Sportsthoughts (12) – where now for Arsene?

AC Milan 4 Arsenal 0.  Ouch!

Arsenal are my second team in football. The family team. And the team that over the past decade have been synonymous with good football, the beautiful game. When they lose it doesn’t hurt in the same way as when West Ham lose.  But when they lose like they did last night, it does hurt.  Because it feels like the dream – that Arsene Wenger could carry on doing it his way – is  over.

Twitter isn’t necessarily the best place to judge the mood, because it’s where all the naysayers, the abusers, can congregate, safe behind their computer screens or mobile devices, and just vent their spleen.  But it is fair to say that hardly anyone was defending Wenger last night.  The Arsenal fans do seem to have turned.

What has gone wrong?

Man, where do you start?

There are three things that I think are worth highlighting: the business model, the football strategy and tactics, and the leadership question.  Blimey! That doesn’t leave a lot, but I think it is all fundamental.   Of course, if Arsenal scrape into the top four this year and win the FA Cup, everyone will breathe a sigh of relief and blame it all on the Man City money. But the roots of the problems are deeper and they need to be addressed.  Not by sacking Wenger.  Or not yet.  He is a brilliant man, the man who transformed Arsenal and transformed English football. Respect, massive respect is due.  But he does need to rethink his ways – just a bit. Otherwise….

The business model

There are two sides to this.  There’s the whole move to the Emirates thing, which I don’t really want to go into.  That side of things looks on track to work. The money has been invested; slowly but surely more and more income will flow in and make Arsenal maybe the healthiest club in English football, financially. Sorted!

But the footballing side of the business model has been blown out of the water. In the early days Wenger inherited a solid English defence and leavened the side with seriously good players: Viera, Petit, Overmars,  then Henry and Pires amongst others. Some had a bit to prove when they joined Arsenal (as did Bergkamp, who was brought to Arsenal by Bruce Rioch), but they had pedigree. That gave Arsenal the platform to dominate English football for a few years, with Man Utd. But then Wenger turned to the self-sustaining model, prompted perhaps by the stadium move and the costs that that involved. An idealistic model too.  Identify players at a young age, from all over the world, get them in and mould them into Arsenal players, playing the right way.  After a while there would be a blossoming of first team talent, a team that had grown up together, fought for each other, invincible.

It almost worked, but then a problem emerged.  Some of the star players were coveted by other teams, with greater resources than Arsenal, at least in this transitional, stadium-moving period. Henry left, maybe before he should have done. And there was speculation every year about when Fabregas would move to Barcelona, until he did.  Likewise Nasri. Arsenal can no longer hold on to their best players. By the time they are in their early twenties they are being tempted by riches elsewhere.  Who will be next to go?  Song? Wilshere? Who knows. But the model now looks more like a financial one: grow talent and then sell it on at massive profit. Good from a short term business perspective, disastrous from a football point of view.

The only way to get round this is to change the buying policy.  Start buying seasoned professionals as well as promising youngsters.  Strengthen the spine of the team, get in a few hard men, some leaders, etc, etc. Arsenal can afford it, but will Wenger be willing to do it as a matter of principle? There was some panic buying just before the beginning of the season, but it needs to be more strategic in future.

The football strategy and tactics

I hugely admire Arsene Wenger for his commitment to the beautiful game, his desire to build a team that is the equal of Barcelona. He clearly knows more about football than just about any other person on the planet. BUT!

He seems to have developed a massive blindspot about defence.  And that’s not just defence-defence, but midfield-defence, attackers tracking back. Defending as a team.

Last night against Milan was a perfect example.  That defensive mindset, the tracking back, the pressing, just didn’t seem to be happening.  There was no discipline in midfield.  And if midfield malfunctions everything else is doomed to fail. It has been a feature of much of this season and a few before.  Wonderful going forward,  hopeless at the basics of defending the line. Song is a great, athletic player, but so often he is surging forward when he should be holding back, ensuring cover.  Is he just indisciplined or does Wenger give him the licence? If he has the licence, then who is the midfield defender?

There have been some complete disasters at the heart of the defence too. Lack of concentration, lack of pace, loss of nerve, you name it.  But if your midfield is not protecting you, it is always going to be a nightmare as a defender, because the opposition will be running at you. At every level of football this is a truism. When will this Arsenal learn?

Leadership

When will this Arsenal learn?

When will Arsene Wenger learn? Or accept that something has to change?

Arsene and Fergie at Man Utd have been around longer than anyone else.  They are testimony to the fact that stability brings success.  But it can also bring stagnation. There is an important way in which Ferguson appears to differ to Wenger.  It is called delegation. Fergie seems to leave more of the day to day coaching to his staff.  He concentrates on the strategy and the people management. Arsene seems to do everything. Earlier this season when Arsenal were shipping goals, especially after the 8-2 defeat against Man Utd, people were asking why Arsenal didn’t have a specialist defensive coach. Martin Keown was mentioned as a candidate. My recollection is that Wenger said he didn’t need one – he was the defensive coach.  Really? Reduce the pressure Arsene: get some help in.  Some fresh ideas. Some focus.

Another example.  Fergie has been top dog for a very long time, but his number two has changed every three or four years.  In recent years Steve McClaren had a go, Carlos Quieroz stiffened the defence,  Mike Phelan is there now. Each time there will be a fresh perspective, a counterbalance, a bit of challenge.  That’s good for any leader.  Arsene has had Pat Rice by his side every day that he has been manager. No doubt he has many virtues.  But does he challenge the great man? I doubt it. Ossification is a risk.

I’ve been a great admirer of Arsene Wenger’s leadership in the past.  His strategy, his calmness in the face of pressure, his love of the beautiful game, his belief in development from within. All still admirable qualities.  But he needs help, new help, and if he doesn’t recognise it, there’s a chance – greater than ever before – that Arsenal will refresh by saying thank you and goodbye Arsene. I’d hate to see that happen, but he needs to act soon to get that help, as well as bring in a few seasoned pros in the next window.

Fingers crossed it will all work out.  Arsenal have played the best football in the Premier League for many years. I want to see them reap the rewards again.

Unless of course West Ham get a sugar daddy and sweep all before them!

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Street sunset distorted

I like taking shots into the sunset.  You get all sorts of images and distortions.  If there’s a tree or two around you get some lovely silhouettes, especially in winter, when each branch can do its own dance.

I found recently, while cycling along the Thames, by Hammersmith in the mist that the iPhone, which doesn’t have the greatest resolution, especially when you use the zoom, can manufacture some wonderful images, precisely because of these defects. See my blog on Misty Thames for a few impressionistic examples. But anything I’ve done is blown away by the images that an Italian guy, who goes by the blogging name of Rubicorno, creates with his iPhones and various apps.  They are amazing – they are more like paintings than photos at times.  Real art. Check his website using the link above.

He’s inspired me to do a few more things with my iPhone.  The selection here has no treatment with apps, as I have no apps just yet.  But it still shows what you can conjure up with a sunset and a dodgy zoom!  Is it art or just a complete mess?  Eye of the beholder…

Here’s one to start which is pretty much the straight view into the sunset. The West London suburban street.

Then zooming in, getting fuzzier…

(You can enlarge these with a click)

Then full distortion, when the boundary between a photo and a painting becomes harder to discern.

I then switched my attention to the lamplight just outside our house.

Ostrich head?

And then a view from my back garden which looks onto an old red brick cinema and beyond that the tall light of a London Underground depot. Like a weird plant. Suburban-industrial.

And finally, switching my sights to the West, some trees that lurk in the park beyond the houses.

The West London suburbs, made surreal by the sunset and an iPhone…

 

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The sadness of the disappearing snowmen

Eight days ago, we had one of our rare London snowfalls.  We’ve had them the last three years in fact, but before that it must have been a decade or more without snow.  My children had never seen it in their own garden, only a ski slope.

The snow brings out the child in all of us.  The wonder at the scenery, the muffling of sound, the serenity.  The chance to chuck snowballs at each other.  The chance to create, to build snowmen. Young and old unite in the task, just like they do on the beach with sandcastles. We all love to build.  And to share in the endeavour. It brings out the best in us, the simple joy of sharing.

Here’s a shot from St James’s Park two or three years ago. Real ingenuity!

This time around, we all went back to work and school and the snowmen started to thaw.  But it stayed cold and they didn’t all disappear overnight. heads were lost, and somehow they became dirty, muddy. I guess there was always muck mixed up with the snow, and the snow melts first.

Yesterday, I walked through Walpole Park in Ealing, on the way to the shops.  There were decapitated snowmen everywhere, scarred by mud. Ready to die, but holding out. Sad to compare these shrivelled shapes with the original creations on that snowy weekend a week ago.

In this one you can imagine a face, sinking slowly into the ground, silently crying at the inevitable.

This reminds me of an octopus without legs.

And how did so much dirt get into this one? And what’s that man doing by the far tree?

(Actually, I think he was playing hide and seek with his young child).

The last remains. Strung out on the mud. An inglorious end.

But it was fun while it lasted.

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Have you heard? – (9) “Wonderwall” by Ryan Adams

“Wonderwall”, as the entire universe knows, is a brilliant song by Oasis. One of their greatest anthems.  Maybe the best of all. At my 50th party, three years ago, we ended on a musical trip which went “Wonderwall”, “Angels” by Robbie Williams and “Come On Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. Two massive anthems and then the one which gets everyone to kick their feet in the air. All three in a circle,  arms round shoulders… celebration.

There have been all sorts of versions of “Wonderwall”.  I even bought a CD single that turned it into “lounge” music.  A bit of a travesty, looking back. But one artist, Ryan Adams, took the song and made it something special. So special that sometimes I think I like it even more than the original. And that is pretty much heresy, even to think such a thought, so good is the original.

Ryan Adams is a great American folky, rocky, even jazzy singer. Incredibly prolific – it is hard to keep up with all the albums. My favourite is “Gold” from 2001, an album full of great American tunes, encompassing the blues, folk, rock’n’roll and the big sound of Bruce Springsteen.

He’s something of a tortured artist, judging by what one reads.  That came through a bit when I saw him perform live at the Barbican last year. It was just him and his favourite, battered guitar. But he wasn’t happy with that guitar.  Constantly re-tuning it, cursing it… loving it.  A man who cared so much about his music that it hurt. It was a wonderful concert.

And his cover of “Wonderwall” continues in that  jumpy, anxious vein.  It’s off an album called “Love Is Hell”, which doesn’t have too many highlights. I think I bought the album just to get “Wonderwall”.  The rest was a bonus… of sorts. But it was worth buying just for “Wonderwall”. What a beautiful rendition of the song.  Stripped to its essence, drawing out the the sadness, drifting along with a simple, echoey, plucked guitar. Ryan’s aching vocals delivering the melody,  a yearning chorus.  Just so touching.

Here’s the song in its recorded version.

I like this live version too, where Ryan gets going with the electric guitar.

And really, how can we not finish with a glimpse of the original Oasis song?  Who knows what it was about.  But it hit the spot in so many ways.  One of the great pop songs, great indie songs, great rock songs. One of the great songs.

And after all

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Sportsthoughts (11) – So Farewell Fabio… and ‘allo ‘Arry?

So Fabio Capello resigned as the manager of England’s football team last night. Brought down in the end by his misjudgement of the John Terry racism case. Clearly a suspicion that the FA manoeuvered him into the position where resignation was the only option – not consulting him on removing the captaincy of the England team, and so on. Equally, if Capello was having bad thoughts about the prospects for England at Euro 2012, this was a brilliant opportunity to withdraw without admitting defeat. So maybe, the resignation suited everyone directly involved.

And it suited the rest of us too.  Capello resigns. Hooray! It felt like a huge weight had been lifted.  Instead of this figure who appeared to have no empathy with English football, we might get a manager who really cares.  Who might inspire the team to better things. And of course everyone said the man was ‘Arry, good ol’ Harry Redknapp. It helped that he was found not guilty of tax evasion the same day!

What went wrong with Capello? He was signed up, at great expense, after the fiasco of Steve McClaren’s tenure.  The failure to qualify for Euro 2008.  The “wally with the brolly” as we slid out of the competition by losing at home to Croatia.  The excessive matey-ness  with Stevie G and JT and Frankie. The same lot who had flopped at the World Cup in 2006 in Germany. The same lot who carried on through Capello’s time. No-one ever worked out how to play two brilliant players – Lampard and Gerrard – in the same team, the same midfield. Why?

At first Capello – with all his Serie A and La Liga and European Cup titles – was greeted as the Saviour. Harsh and disciplined, clear about what needed to be done. Time to sort out the pop stars and their Wags. Focus on the football. Structure, clear roles, no dissent.  It worked for a while.  The press loved him.  Compare and contrast with McClaren. And the results were good. Especially when England destroyed Croatia in Croatia, 4-1, with wonderboy Theo Walcott let off the leash and scoring a hattrick.

But, but… the man didn’t seem to be able to communicate.  His English wasn’t good and wasn’t getting any better. What did he think of English football?  How was he going to get the best out of the players at the World Cup in 2010?  No idea.

The 2010 World Cup in South Africa was a complete disaster.  Now we are used to poor starts in the Group phase.  The last time we were any good in the group stage was 1982, when we trounced France in the first match. (Still got knocked out before the semis, but never mind). But 2010 was a genuine low. Draws with Algeria and USA, a lucky 1-0 win against Slovenia. We came SECOND in a really weak group and as a result faced Germany in the last 16. They thrashed us 4-1. There were unlucky moments, like Lampard’s legit goal that was disallowed which would have got us to 2-2; but really, we were rubbish.  Slow, unstructured, unimaginative, un-everything good. It was so bad!

There had been all sorts of rubbish going on in the background.  Unhappy players, bored from long periods of isolation (the Italian retiri, which just didn’t work for our simple lads). Unhappy about styles of play, unhappy about everything  But when JT sought to lead a mutiny, he wasn’t backed up.

In football terms, a complete disaster. But Capello wasn’t sacked. He was given until Euro 2012. And in fairness, things got a bit better. New players were brought in. Jack Wilshere, until he got injured, looked like the future star. Scott Parker, who should have been in South Africa, got his chance, and provided the defensive midfield cover that released others.  The defence looked solid, and Rooney seemed happy again. There were dodgy moments, but in the end we qualified for Poland/Ukraine quite easily.

So why were we, the fans – and the media – still so unhappy? Apart from being serial moaners of course. Well, because there just seemed to be no engagement from Capello. Again it was the language issue.  After all this time, he still didn’t seem to have gained any fluency. He didn’t seem to be at many Premier League games – he seemed more interested in his art collection. Basically, he showed no respect for English football, or its culture.  Now that culture has its defects, we know.  But the England manager needs to be building on it.  Capello seemed completely detached. Recently we had that great result against Spain in the friendly at Wembley (see my Sportsthoughts (1)). But even then, where was the joy in the managers’s face? He may have been ecstatic. But he couldn’t show it, share the feeling.

England and Fabio Capello. It was a match made in hell. And we all felt so depressed about it.  Just assumed Euro 2012 would be another flop.

And then the split came, four months before the Euros. Ostensibly this must be a bad thing, but why do most of us feel so good?  I think it is because it gives us a bit of hope that the team, inspired by someone who understands and appreciates the culture, the players, their hopes and fears, their motivation, might just inspire them to play to the best of their ability. The last manager who did that was Terry Venables, in Euro 96. Where we went out in the semis, to Germany. A similar fate probably befalls the team in Euro 2012, but if we can see that they have given their all, and just missed out on penalties (again), we’ll feel OK. It’s the sense that the team simply wasn’t a team in South Africa that really galled. The sense of underachievement and not caring. We don’t want that again.

So, we need a motivator. An England manager doesn’t need to teach technique (hopefully) or ensure fitness. The players’ clubs should deliver that. What is needed is vision, strategy, structure and above all the ability to motivate, to engender a team spirit amongst a set of players who all think they are the bees’ knees. We are now in one of our cycles where we think that that means that the manager must be English, so he understand the culture, so that his instructions can’t be misunderstood. I kind of agree with that, though I’d be happy with a foreign manager with Premier League form: Mourinho, or Wenger, or O’Neill. But let’s be realistic, it has to be Harry. It will be by acclamation. He has transformed Spurs.  They are playing the best football in the league. They could still win it.  It is English football: fast, using the wings, Bale supreme, taking risks. But getting the best from the European schemers: Modric, Van der Vaart. Football with a smile on its face. Oh, if that could be England!

When Harry was West Ham manager, I was sceptical. He almost took us down and his tactics at the time seemed to be sling on as many attackers as possible and hope for the best. But he has refined his technique, without losing that joy of attacking football. And now it seems right that he should bring that to the England team. He clearly does get the best out of players, he clearly has a plan and is adaptable as games evolve. We love him.  He is a geezer. With him at the helm in Euro 2012 we will feel good about ourselves.  We won’t win it – Spain, Germany or Holland must be favourites – but if we give a good account of ourselves, play to the max, we’ll be happy. And we’ll do that you never know, we can beat Spain on our day thing.

And you never know….

So, we don’t want to ruin Spurs’ season (well I don’t) so just get Harry involved with Stuart Pearce in the friendly against Holland, and then line him up for the Euros when the Premier League has finished.  If it goes well, make it permanent.  If he decides international football is not for him, let him go back to Spurs…

And send that text to Jose Mourinho!

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The snowy canal

We had one of our rare snowfalls in London overnight.  Cue traffic chaos, cries of “where’s the grit?” and a general lapse into childhood.  A good thing, the latter: see the smiles on the faces of people of all ages as they hurl snowballs at each other or construct elaborate snowmen.  Because it was the weekend, there was less of the moaning and more of the fun. And children cross their fingers and hope a fresh snowfall will give them a day off school. Unlikely.

I love the way our landscape transforms itself with a fall of snow.  It’s the snow on the branches of the trees, the way the white background accentuates the dark contours of everyday structures.  And of course there is the silence – the sound absorption of that white blanket.  All is calm, and bathed in that soothing grey-blue light.

In the afternoon I strolled down to the Grand Union Canal, to see how things looked in the snow and ice.  I left it a bit late and the thaw had begun, but that brought its own delights.  Here are some of the pictures I took.

On the way I went past the London Underground depot in between Northfields and Boston Manor.  It reminded me of the days when I used to read Thomas the Tank Engine to my son.  Oooh, a bit chilly today, Henry!

These next two shots are from when I arrived at the canal, from the grounds near Elthorne Park.

 

A couple more from the start of the walk. The canal’s surface was still frozen in places, but getting slushy on top.

As the thaw took force, holes were opening up in the ice, with cracks extending from them.  They looked like giant spiders, or in one case, a rather magnificent set of antlers.

These disconnected branches repose on the ice.

As the canal winds its way down to Brentford you can never escape the M4, London’s westward artery. Under the bridge, the grafitti has been scraped off (why?) , but it is making a comeback.

I like these shots of the reeds at the canal’s edge.

An old iron bridge carries the Piccadilly Line over the canal, ferrying the Heathrow passengers into London.

As the snow and ice thawed, water droplets plunged into the canal.

The ducks seemed happy with the situation.

A bend in the journey…

Footsteps and holes in the ice.

From various points on the walk you can see the wavy chimneys of what I think is a cement factory – or something similar.

A guard of trees and some surviving snow.

The old iron footbridge over the canal – always a good one to get over on your bike, dropping down the gears – though not today.

Shots from the bridge – that M4 again!

And the other side.

The leaning tree.

Glaxo Smith Kline’s HQ dominates the view around the point where the canal dips under the A4. I find it an endlessly fascinating building, with its points and curves and reflective cladding. In these first two shots it hides behind the trees lining the canal.

The last bridge across the canal before Brentford affords all sorts of views.

Here’s one of the bridge, curving over to Boston Manor Park.

More of GSK…

No rest on this seat today.

The dancing tree, Boston Manor.

And to finish, a couple more shots in Boston Manor Park. the snow and the shapes.

Nature, the weather, and the urban landscape in alliance.  Simple beauty in the everyday things all around us.

You can see a full set of the photos on Flickr.

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Sportsthoughts (10) – The Six Nations is upon us!

The Six Nations rugby tournament is one of the great sporting contests.  In the dark, cold days of winter and early spring it gives us something to look forward to.  The anticipation rises: most years there is no clear favourite, so every country – except Italy – can fantasise about emerging triumphant in March, as the seasons shift and renewal is upon us.

Legends abound of great drinking feats, of fellow feeling, a shared love of the contest, mutual respect, amongst those who attend the matches.  Especially those who travel away. I’ve never done that, but I buy into the legend. It bears out what I see at Quins every time.  Rivalries for sure, but respect and tolerance for the other side.  Banter rather than violence. And a lot of beer!

Compare and contrast with the football, which I love even more, but also despair about.  The greed, the hate, and the recent resurgence of racism. It’s awful. I’m steering clear of the debate on the latter on this blog. I’m in feelgood mode when I write. I’ll leave it to others to put the world’s ills to right. I remember bananas being thrown onto pitches as recently as the eighties. I thought things had changed.  But some of the stuff on Twitter says no, it hasn’t at all.  Football can’t cure society’s problems, but it could have a go at not making them worse. Fine hope. The way things are going at the moment, mostly because of the money, but also because everything is just so hyped, football will eat itself. Somewhere along the line, Michel Platini at UEFA, with his fairplay rules, is probably the saviour. Unless the big money teams crush him – and they might.

The rugby in this context is a retreat to decency and dignity.  Notwithstanding the brutality of the game at times.  On the whole, the limits are understood, and off the pitch, there is mutual respect, amongst teams and fans alike.  OK, in the Six Nations, everyone else likes to see England lose. And sometimes that doesn’t feel good.  But it’s part of the game. Rooted in the history of the UK and Europe. We can deal with it. Hopefully by winning!

So who will win the Six Nations this year? My money is on Ireland. They’ve blown it a few times in recent years, but their line up is so strong, even with the great Brian O’Driscoll injured.   In the Heineken Cup, the truest test of Northern hemisphere rugby, the Irish teams, Leinster, Munster, Ulster, have been awesome. And the bulk of the Ireland team comes from those three teams.  They know each other.  They should gel and blow everyone away.  Look at the back row: Ferris, O’Brien, Heaslip. Frightening. Unstoppable?

The French just beg the cliches.  The most talent, the biggest enigma.  Which team will turn up on the day, etc, etc. Well, they almost won the World Cup even when at each other’s throats.  So if they stay switched on, they’ll be favourites to win the tournament.  But I think there will be a couple of teams – maybe England one of them – that get under their skins and rattle them. Flawed geniuses, as ever.

The Welsh had a good World Cup, with some very good young players coming through. Without that Warburton sending off who knows what would have happened. Maybe they will sweep all before them, but they have a few key injuries at the moment and the brilliant Shane Williams has retired. Might be a “transitional” tournament for them – again.

Scotland I don’t have much of an opinion about.  Brilliant scrappers at the breakdown, rubbish at finishing things off. Same for years.  Will it be different this time? Edinburgh’s achievements in the Heineken Cup suggest things are getting better. We’ll see. First up, Calcutta Cup vs England at Murrayfield. Could be spicy!

Italy.  Last. Again. No offence.  Just the natural order except when Scotland have a stinker and vie for the wooden spoon.  I wouldn’t expect that this time.

And so to England! Massive overhaul since the disastrous World Cup. Some young players brought through and some experienced hands who haven’t had the chance before. I’m excited by the Saracens midfield of Hodgson, Farrell and Barritt. And David Strettle back on the wing. As long as Charlie H doesn’t flake it again. And of course I’m so pleased for the magnificent Chris Robshaw of Harlequins, captaining England in only his second appearance. He will lead from the front. That spirit will be key to victory against the Scots.

It’s really hard to say how this England team will do. I think we will see a strong spirit and some adventure. But will it be enough against the more seasoned campaigners of Ireland, France and Wales? All of whom were forged in the furnace of the World Cup?  So hard to say.  I think they’ll do well, but maybe not enough this time around to win it. Maybe next year, with the added international experience.

So scores on the doors, George Dawes…

This is how I think it might end up. Bound to be wrong, but let’s see come March.

1st – Ireland

2nd – France

3rd – England

4th – Wales

5th – Scotland

6th – Italy

Let’s go!

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Oh no, I just bought Queen’s Greatest Hits! Oh yes, they’re really good!

And the platinum version at that. Three CDs’ worth.

I’ve been resisting that purchase for years.  I’ve got a bit of history with Queen though.  It’s one of those guilty pleasures.

The immediate cause of the purchase was the 50th birthday party I did the music for last Saturday (see the blog I wrote in anticipation). One of the birthday people wanted “Don’t Stop Me Now” to be on the playlist.  I didn’t have it.  Download the track or just go for the whole album?  I twitched,  quivered, contemplated owning “Fat Bottomed Girls”, shut my eyes, gritted my teeth and just pressed that BUY button.  What the hell!

I’ve got history.  I loved Queen’s early albums. The first four, especially numbers three and four. That would be “Sheer Heart Attack” and “Night At The Opera”.

In the mid seventies, when they came out, I was a metal and rock fan first and foremost. Led Zep, Black Sabbath, Uriah Heep, Bad Company, Free, Thin Lizzy, Nazareth, Budgie, Purple, The Sensational Alex Harvey Band, etc, etc. And Queen. They rocked, sometimes.  They flounced too, and they knew how to write a pop song (“Killer Queen”, anyone?) but they did rock.  “Seven Seas of Rhye” off “Queen II” was the hit that introduced them to a lot of people, me included. That rocked.  “Now I’m Here”, “Brighton Rock” and “Stone Cold Crazy” were three of the greatest rockers in my book.  Still are today. “Brighton Rock” is Brian May’s finest moment.  He does a Hendrix and takes his guitar to places where no man has gone before. “Stone Cold Crazy” was covered by Metallica on “Garage Inc”. That’s metal.

“Night At the Opera” is Queen’s finest album.  Of course it is. It’s got “Bohemian Rhapsody” on it.  I still remember how excited I was by that song when it came out, in 1975. There had never been anything like it.  All those different phases, building to the metal wig-out.  Of course that was my favourite bit.  At the time it seemed like perfection. I wanted that riff to go on forever.

The whole album was amazing, with such variety. The “Prophet’s Song” was as adventurous musically as “Bohemian Rhapsody”, and “Death On Two Legs” and “I’m In Love With My Car” gave me my metal fix.  For a short while it was the best album in the world, ever.

Then punk happened and Queen slipped right off the agenda.  Overblown, effete, increasingly self indulgent – that was my take.  I rejected them – though not my old favourites.  They were a guilty secret before we talked about guilty secrets.

And really, from then on, though I absorbed all the hits, I just wasn’t a Queen fan.  And some of the songs were just awful.  I mean, “Fat Bottomed Girls”, “Bicycle Race”. How could the band that made “Brighton Rock” descend to such embarrassing depths, I asked myself. And that video for “I Want To Break Free”. The band that made ‘Bohemian Rhapsody”? Ho, hum.  I did like the bass line to “Under Pressure” and couldn’t resist the hard funk of “Another One Bites The Dust”, but that was about it.

Leave Queen to the masses…

So what changed?

Did I just grow old and get ever more nostalgic?  Well, I grew back into metal when iTunes allowed me to assemble old favourites with a click and a drag. And that included the Queen classics. But not all the other stuff.

Then some other things happened.

1. My kids, when they were a bit younger, really liked “We Will Rock You”.  I grew to appreciate it, especially the riffing at the end.

2. Last year in our summer holiday on the Costa Brava, Spain, we saw a Queen tribute band at our holiday camp, Cala Gogo. The band played mostly the eighties pop classics, rather than my metal favourites. The audience went mad for them, especially a large Dutch contingent.  Never mind that the singer looked like Harry Enfield (British comedian) rather than Freddie Mercury, it was a huge amount of fun.

3. The BBC made a two part documentary about the band and Freddie Mercury’s battle with AIDS. It was superb.  Brilliant about the music and incredibly sensitive and moving about Freddie.  You had to love him at the end of it. I went straight back to the music after watching it. Listened to the albums that I had… and hovered over that greatest hits, the music I’d rejected. I just managed to resist the purchase.

4. And then the party just now.  Suddenly, I thought, what the hell, just get the lot, rather than download a couple of tracks.  I know there’s some good stuff there as well as some complete twaddle. So I did the deed. Pressed BUY.  And “Don’t Stop Me Now” went down so well at the party.  Late on. Amongst young and old. It rocked! As it had when Harry Enfield belted it out on a warm Spanish evening in front of some crazy Dutch people. I accepted the reality.  Queen are a truly great pop band. As well as the brilliant metal band I loved in the seventies.

So, on the tube this morning, as I went into work, I put the Platinum Collection on, on shuffle.  While reading the Guardian on my iPad. I loved it, especially the remix of “Another One Bites The Dust”, featuring Wyclif Jean and Pras Michel from the Fugees. That was really cool.

So there you go.  I’ve succumbed. My resistance is over.  I will maintain that the first four albums were the best.  But I will agree that Queen are actually one of the greatest pop bands ever. And that they still appeal to all the generations.  Not many can do that.

I still draw the line at “Fat Bottomed Girls” though…

God save ’em!

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Westminster Cathedral – a trapped treasure

I work in a tower block at one end of Victoria Street, London SW1, the station end.  It’s fine- in fact it’s good.  The surrounding shops are excellent, there are plenty of restaurants and bars, and the transport links are as good as you can get. Victoria station is hateful in the rush hour, but that’s part of London life.

But something that bugs me just about every day as I walk out to get a sandwich, or a bit of Japanese nosh, is WHY did THEY, whoever THEY were, consent to build office blocks so close to Westminster Cathedral that they have largely destroyed the view of that magnificent building, the home of the English Catholic church?

This is what I mean.

Actually, simply by asking the question you answer it. The English establishment, back in the late 50s and the 60s, probably didn’t give a damn. Booming London – private and public – needed office space. Victoria Street was ripe for redevelopment.  It happened.  Obviously didn’t extend quite extend to the other end of the street, home of Westminster Abbey and the Palace of Westminster. Understandable. The true heart of the British, not just English establishment. Don’t worry about the Catholics though.

I’ll declare an interest.  I am not a Catholic, but I am married into a Catholic family.  But this piece is not about religion: it’s about the assault on the beauty and dignity of a special building. But it is also about how it survives and prospers, and how some of the new architecture in the area brings new perspectives.  So an optimistic story in the end.

A tiny bit of history. The Cathedral opened in 1903, construction having started in 1895. The Archbishop at the time was Cardinal Vaughan, the architect John Francis Bentley.  The design was “Neo-Byzantine”.  (I’m nicking all of this off Wikipedia, of course). The site, centuries before, was part of the Westminster marshes. The Benedictine monks of Westminster Abbey had reclaimed the area, and it was used as a market and a fairground.  Later it was  a space for a maze and a pleasure garden (whatever that is) and a ring for bull-baiting (that doesn’t sound good).  Between the 17th and 19th centuries it seems to have been the site of various prisons, before the Catholic church acquired the site in 1884.  So not the holiest of backgrounds. But ready for redemption.

Anyway, back to the present and some photos to illustrate my theme.

The earlier photos showed how hemmed in the Cathedral is. This one shows how hidden.

(You can enlarge any of the photos by clicking on them)

The sixties blocks are rather ugly, but the juxtaposition with the Cathedral can be interesting.

And once you get beyond the office frontage of Victoria Street, things relax, and there is some beauty. Or maybe grandeur rather than beauty. Here’s some detail:

And there is also harmony with the surroundings when you get away from the hideousness of Victoria Street itself.  The buildings nearby are constructed in a similar style, in red brick. And, as ever, the presence of trees adds to the spectacle.

It’s very stripey. Must be those neo-byzantines!

What I do like is the view from the other side of Victoria Street once you step back a bit. The whole area was redeveloped a few years ago, creating what is now known as Cardinal Place – respect for the Cathedral in that name.  It was clearly designed so that there is a vista of sorts. The old and the new, jarring, but also complementing.

And glimpses through the architecture.

Just for context, here is Victoria Street, shot from the same area as the Cathedral lurks. Nondescript is the best description.  Ugly, maybe.  But not to forget that it does the job.

 

 

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Fiftypartydisconightmareorheavendownload!

I’m doing the music this Saturday night for three very special people who have turned fifty in recent times. One’s my wife; the other two are her close friends all the way back to school days. It will be great.

I have about 22,000 songs on my iPod.  I can cover most situations and have done the odd disco in recent times.  Including my own 50th three years ago.  At that we got pretty nostalgic and I think “Jean Genie” by David Bowie went down better than just about anything. But only just better than “Up Town Top Ranking” by Althia and Donna and “Little L” by Jamiroquai, which are two of my absolute top dance favourites.  And of course we finished the evening with a few anthems: “Come On Eileen” by Dexy’s Midnight Runners, “Wonderwall” by Oasis and “Angel” by Robbie Williams.

Aaah, memories…..

So, more of the same? Well, not quite.

I’m taking requests, and have found a disconcerting number of tracks on the lists which (a) I don’t have and (b) would never download in normal circumstances.  I cringed as I downloaded the following from the iTunes store tonight:

Cyndi Lauper – Girls just Wanna Have Fun

The Weather Girls – It’s Raining Men

Kenny Loggins – Footloose

Lou Bega – Mambo No 5

Ricky Martin – Livin’ la Vida Loca

Katrina – Walking On Sunshine

Don’t Stop Me Now – Queen

Dancing Queen – Abba

But, hey, they’re all good songs really.  It’s just that I’ll be quite happy to be up on the stage just playing the tunes as they come on.  So I won’t have to dance to them.

Mind you, there were a few others that made me think, why haven’t I got this on my iPod already?  Got on vinyl, but never made the translation. The wonderful soca classic from the early eighties, “Hot, Hot, Hot” by Arrow, for example. Belgian pop techno artists Technotronic, with “Pump Up The Jam”. Soft Cell with their sleazy take on the Northern Soul Classic “Tainted Love”.  I’ll dance to any of them!

And we’re having a metal interlude.  How will this go down? Well, if we do it after everyone’s had a few drinks it will probably be a great laugh.  There will be inflatable guitars at the ready.  “Enter Sandman” by Metallica may feature. The best ever metal riff?  “Ace of Spades” by Motorhead! Runs it close. And , er… “We Will Rock You” by Queen. Now if it was entirely up to me, I’d be putting on “Brighton Rock” if we had to have a Queen song.  The one when Brian May went all Hendrix. Loved it the day it came out on “Sheer Heart Attack” in the mid-seventies, still love it today. But I digress…

We might have a bit more 70s rock – classics like “Sweet Home Alabama” by Lynyrd Skynyrd, or “The Boys Are Back In Town” by Thin Lizzy.  But it will be mostly 70s and 80s dance, plus a few new ones, I suspect.  And there is nothing wrong with that. Anyone who can’t or won’t dance to Michael Jackson’s classics – my favourite is “Don’t Stop Till You Get Enough” – or to “Night Fever” by the Bee Gees, isn’t gonna dance.

Some of the younger folk at the party will grimace as they watch their parents re-live their youth, but hey, if you can’t do it when you turn fifty, when can you?

Let’s dance!

(Yeah, we’ll have that one too – if I get my way)

Posted in Music - concerts, lists, reflections, Random stuff | Tagged , , , , , | 8 Comments