Marianne Faithfull - the Royal Festival Hall

Last night we went to see Marianne Faithfull at the Royal Festival Hall on her 50th anniversary tour. She's broken her left hip and thigh and came on with a walking stick and had a big, sturdy chair to sit on to sing a song and ease the pain every couple of songs. Every movement made me wince in sympathy but she still gave us a two hour set of classic Faithfull songs. This is Marianne's 50th anniversary tour and a mere couple of breakages isn't going to stop her.

I've seen Marianne in many modes over the years. I first saw her in, I think, 2002 when she was in rock chick mode at the Astoria (of sticky carpet fame, now demolished) with a heavy band belting out loud guitar music. The last time I saw her was just her and a guitarist giving a very different take on some of those well known songs.

The first album I bought of Marianne was 'Broken English' bought on musi-cassette in the early '80s. Marianne thought she might be dying while recording that album and wanted to leave a legacy behind her and that's the album that revitalised her career and her art. In the '90s I bought her Island Records anthology but it was after seeing her that first time that I started to properly explore her works. And that included seeing her live whenever possible.

When she first came on she came to the front of the stage and out of the blue gave us her Richard III impression using her walking stick before stepping back to the microphone and opening with a raunchy 'Give My Love To London', singing about Kensington and dancing under the moon in Piccadilly and Pirate Jenny. 'Broken English' was introduced early in the set followed by 'Witches' Song' and the explanation that she was doing a mix of her big songs and the lesser known, lesser performed songs because she thought they were worth listening to. They are indeed.

We were given a '60s Corner' with a lovely version of 'As Tears Go by' (obv) and a 'Junkies Corner'  kicked off with 'Sister Morphine' that morphed into 'Late Victorian Holocaust' from the latest album.  In between the corners we had a rocky version of 'The Price Of Love' because she liked the Everly Brothers and a thumping 'Marathon Kiss' that she explained was written for Emmy Lou Harris but given to her to sing (I always like the refrain of 'Fearless when I'm with you').

I've never understood why people think it's okay to shout out at Marianne during her concerts, especially when she'd said at the start that she only hears through one ear these days, but that didn't stop the shouters. I was emphatically pleased when she put down a shouter who shouted out 'name-dropping again' when she named someone who co-wrote one of her songs and she basically said she couldn't make out what was said and please don't do that since it puts her off. That shut people up for a while but then they started again with random shout-outs.

She took her time explaining the background to 'Mother Wolf' from the new album, which is basically based around a book she read while bed-ridden about women and transposed that to Kipling's 'Jungle Book' where she takes the role of the wolf who fights for and brings up Mowgli. She made it clear in the introduction that she didn't have much time for the modern world, hence for the refrain using  the word 'despise'.

Marianne is always worth seeing live if you can and especially on Saturday night. She is a true artist - doesn't necessarily always get it spot on but always worth a listen. And she's lived the life that gives the right to comment on the rock life. I loved 'Broken English' and 'Ballad of Lucy Jordan', 'Sister Morphine', 'Marathon Kiss' and the fearsome 'Mother Wolf.

After a standing ovation and lots of bows Marianne obliged one last song - she was standing centre-stage with her stick while the band marched off stage so it didn't take a genius to realise they'd come back while she stood there. And it was 'Last Song' written with Damon Albarn, with the refrain 'We saw the green fields turn into homes' which is close to my heart since I've seen it myself. More bows from her and the band and then she was gone, slowly and watching her feet, from the stage.

That was Marianne Faithfull y'know, the original rock chick that became an artist and demonstrated a new way for a woman to be a rockster. She's still creating and we should all be grateful for that. I am.

Streatham and SW16 Cushions

I live in London and I'm proud to say that. We've hosted the Olympics three times, more than any other city in the world, and I was an Ambassador at the last Olympic Games. I like my city and it's full of tourists all year round - I am probably famous in Japan and China for being in so many photos around Westminster Abbey. My city is also *old*, with bits of it being around for a couple of thousand years.

We all live in our own bits of London and my bit has been around since Roman times. St Leonard's church has been there for about 1,000 years and it is the centre of Streatham, literally the village (ham) on the street. The old Roman road to the south coast has been there for 2,000 years and is still the site for the annual vintage car rally from London o Brighton.

Streatham used to be the last over-night coach stop on the route into London in the 18th century until London started to expand. Then it became a commuter suburb on the borders of Surrey. Then it became a part of London with all that entails. It's still a major thoroughfare to the south coast and the traffic is ridiculous but that's the price of living in London.

I like living in Streatham and my house is surrounded by trees that provide a nice screen from the road and its noise. I feel comfortable here. I feel even more comfortable having cushions specific to my location.

E.A. Wates on Micham Lane (around the corner from me) has been around since the 1900s and is still producing great furniture and furnishings. I went in there today to get some new cushions - Ive looked at them in the shop window for a few weeks and decided if I didn't buy them now then I probably never would so I took the initiative.

Meera Syal - 'Up Your Hairy Hole'

We went to see the 'platform' discussion with Meera Syal and Rufus Norris at the National Theatre about the new play, 'Behind The Beautiful Forevers'. Meera is the star (obv) and Rufus directed. It was part interview and part audience Q&A on the stage the play is performed on so it had to over in good time for the play to start. Early on we were asked to our hands up if we'd already seen the play (I put up my hand) or if we were seeing it that night (most other hands went up).

During the interview with Sarfraz Manzoor (who, at point, said that Rufus really needed some media training before he took over as overall Director of the National Theatre) had elicited from Meera that some of the language in the play was a bit fruity, to say the least. The character she plays is quite earthy and not shy with her choice of words. That made it even more funny when Meera was asked about whether the strap line to the play was appropriate.

Meera's response was. 'Well, it's better than 'Up your hairy hole'.'

She then realised what she'd said and clapped her hand to mouth in embarrassment and started apologising and giggling as she realised that most people in the audience wouldn't know it was one of her lines from the play. A classic moment! *That* is how I shall remember Ms Syal from now on!

And this is my photo of Meera from a few years ago when she was interviewed at the Purcell Room on the Southbank.

Go and see 'Behind The Beautiful Forevers' if you can - it's on at the National for a few months yet and is well worth seeing. My bloggie about it is here.

La Soiree at the Spiegeltent, Southbank

On Thursday we went to see circus fit for the 21st century and it was good. And rude. With lots of flesh on display. And laughter. And pingpong balls. And a small red handkerchief.

Yes, we went to see the La Soiree troupe at the Spiegeltent beside the Royal Festival Hall on the Southbank and it's as far from a  'tent' as you can imagine. Acrobats, contortionists, hula-hoop girl, juggling, strong men, pole dancing and who knows what else. And none of it is what you might expect. Patriotic gentlemen in Union Jack underpants and a naked lady from Croydon (via Spain, obv). What on earth is going on here?

Sitting only a couple of yards from the small stage-in-the-round meant we had a great view of the shenanigans and we had variations on traditional circus/cabaret acts as well as cabaret delivered in a totally different way. I cite the Blue Bunny as an example of the latter, a tall middle aged bloke in a blue latex bodysuit skipping round the place in high heels bursting balloons. I *like* Scotty The Blue Bunny (but I'd need to lose some of the tum before trying to emulate him in latex).

Jess Love was great as hula-hoop girl, keeping the hoops going with different parts of her body while she performed acrobatics galore. And she was fun in her joint show with Ursula Martinez and the gender and clothes swapping duo who ended up all but naked. By then, of course, we'd already had the demote teasing from a grey suited Ursula and her little red handkerchief. Each time she performed her disappearing handkerchief trick an item of clothing vanished until she was naked and then she did the trick again… where could the handkerchief possibly be…? I shall never look at a little red handkerchief in the same way again.

I liked David and Fofo with their ping-pong balls flashing between their mouths while they performed amazing acrobatics and another duo, Saulo and Anna, flying round the stage in acrobatic passion with their moving pole to clamber around. Another highlight was the comedic juggling of Marcus Monroe who started by juggling clubs and then switched to knives - ouch! There was also the rather naughty 'sexual gentleman' Asher Treleaven and his risqué tales.

They were all great fun and incredibly entertaining. I sat for most of the time with my mouth open in wonder and a stupid smile on my face - how on earth do they do *that*? and how do they do *that*? and *that's* just not possible… I even had Jonathan Burns throw his underpants at me after he'd taken them off without removing his shorts.

The true highlight was The English Gents in their pinstripe suits and bowler hats getting up to all sorts of strongman antics and acrobatics galore. And yes, it's them on the poster for the show with both gents in their Union Jack pants and Denis Lock holding up Hamish McCann with one arm. It's a mix of a strong man act with impossible acrobatics thrown in for good measure. Might I say 'wow'?

And Hamish came back in a solo act to close the show with his version of 'Singin' In The Rain' and using the lamppost for his very own pole dance, holding himself out horizontally from half way up the pole in an astonish show of strength. To repeat myself, how on earth does he manage to do *that*?

There are other acts that are part of the La Soiree troupe but they don't all come on every night. And even those that do appear have different acts so you're unlikely to see the same show twice. I like that. Because I *am* going back! It was such fun and a great way to spend an evening. This is fabulous circus-cabaret, but not as you've seen it before. 

Paul Smith & Peter Brewis - 'Frozen By Sight'

The new collaboration between Paul Smith (Maximo Park) and Peter Brewis (Field Music) is now out, an album called 'Frozen By Sight'. I pre-ordered the album (obv).

Maximo Park were destined to have me as a fan when I heard the energy and life of their first album and a lot of that is down to Paul's voice and lyrics. I've bought every album since and seen them play live lots.  I'd never heard the term 'A4 print-out' in a pop song until I listened to the Maximos. So, my interest in this album is largely around the words and Paul's voice than Peter's chamber inspired music but it's definitely growing.

This album is as far away from the Maximos as you can get and is far closer to Paul's solo album from four years ago, 'Margins'. Some emphatic percussion and sometimes swirling and sometimes strident strings add the background to Paul's words and then come to the fore to take control of the song. It's different but really works well.

The songs are based on Paul's travels around the world with songs like 'LA Street Cleaner', 'Exiting Hyde Park Towers' and 'Barcelona (At Eye Level)'. With some of the songs it's the observed detail in the words that brings the joy. It's almost like moving from the detail in a Burne-Jones painting to the broad brush of a Monet water lilies painting.

This isn't music to listen to on the tube in the morning going to work but will bring many happy hours listening to it in the evening, relaxing, and finding something new in each song with every listen. Thanks lads!

Kim Boekbinder and the Infinite Minute

That there Kim Boekbinder (aka The Impossible Girl) has come up with the daftest idea yet for a Kickstarter campaign - and that's 'daftest' in a totally positive way, obv. She's looking for funding to build a recording studio at her home so she can record her next album (and others after that) and so she's offering to write a one minute song for every $100 raised. And if you pledge $100 you get your very own song to do with as you see fit. If you pledge now, you could even get your very own song in time for Christmas! How's that for an interesting Christmas present for someone? As you'll know, dear Reader, I am a Christmasoholic and the temptation is terrible...

It's the Infinite Minute project and the songs will only ever be available to Kickstarter backers. You don't have to pay $100 of course - you'll be given all the songs even if you just pledge $1 but it gets more interesting as the money pledged increases.

You can read all about it and pledge here and you might want to watch Kim's video about one minute songs in which she performs a one minute song about the project.



Now then, how much do I want my very own Christmas song…?

'Behind The Beautiful Forevers' at The National Theatre

On Friday we went to see 'Behind The Beautiful Forevers' at the National Theatre. It's a new play by David Hare based on the book by Katherine Boo who spent three years in the slums behind Mumbai airport to write it.

It's the tale of two families and their friends in the slums and grinding poverty, of 'pickers' and 'sorters' of the rubbish the world unthinkingly throws away but the inhabitants of the slums collect and sell for a few rupees. Every now and then the shadow of a plane flies overhead to remind us the scene is outside an airport with luxury hotels. At one point we're told that the ashes from the slums dung fires fly over the walls into the swimming pools of the hotels and the two worlds collide.

At the centre of the play is Meera Syal who plays a strong women watching her family gradually become 'rich', at least by the standards of the slums. This is largely through the work of her expert 'sorter' son, Abdul, a quiet and gentle soul who is exceptionally good at his job. This leads to friction with her neighbours who sam to think it's unfair that her son is so good at his job. The friction escalates until one of the neighbours - a lady called 'one leg' because of her disability' - douses herself in paraffin and sets fire to herself, blaming Meera's family and others use this as an opportunity to attack the family. Father and son are arrested and beaten by the corrupt police and legal system, then the daughter is also arrested. The family's meagre wealth gradually dwindles through the daily bribes to see them all in prison and to take them food.

The other family is led by another strong woman who plays the 'go-to' woman in the slums. If you have a problem you go to her and she might be able to find you money to help or intervene with the police if you're in trouble. This is her job and she mercilessly extorts money from people who need her. Later in the play we see the price she, herself, pays for being in that position. Her daughter gets an education through her work and the daughter in turn tries to spread her learning and knowledge of the world outside the slums. Very little turns out well.

We also meet the 'pickers', those young men and boys who carry on the family tradition of picking through the rubbish that's dumped outside the airport and hotel complexes. It's dangerous work, with gangs and violence but the rewards can be so tempting to those who have nothing. At one point there's a great scene with Abdul sitting sorting in the centre of the stage and the shadow of an areoplane flies over and suddenly a huge amount of plastic bottles miscellaneous rubbish are dropped onto the stage just behind him. That's a great image for our unthinking pollution but, on the other hand, it generates an income for those in the slums.

The staging was quite simple and the stage itself was strewn with rubbish most of the time. The stage rotates so that we can have scenes in the slums and, when the stage turns, scenes in the hospital and police station just outside the slums. It's not a pretty set but was very effective.

The stand out actors for me were Hiran Abeysekera who played Sunil, the young lad 'picker' whose fortune keeps changing but he had a warmth about him that meant I was on his side throughout. He also closed the play in a most spectacular fashion (which I won't say any more about). Stephanie Street was great as the 'go to' woman, Asha, back rigid in her sari, all so proper and fiercely businesslike but the facade slips when she has to leave her birthday party laid on by her family. Shane Zaza was excellent as Abdul who plays the skilled 'sorter', the still centre of the play and friend of Sunil. Quiet and honourable amongst the noise and dangers of the slums, going to the prison to give himself up in place of his father, there was a quiet, sad dignity throughout his time on the stage.

But, of course, it's Meera Syal who gets most kudos, moving from a brazen matriarch to a humbled woman who freely admits that she's made mistakes and her previous impervious and decisive decision-making led to problems. It's a slow transition and, in part, marked by an increasing use of her scarf to cover her head as she needs to present a different face to the world. Meera is a very talented actress and I was massively impressed with her touching performance as 'Shirley Valentine' a few years back and her commanding presence as Beatrice in 'Much Ado About Nothing' in 2012. I'd love to see Meera take on more stage roles. There was a great interview with her in the Independent last week.

One of the little joys of the production for me was the music, particularly playing a song from the film 'Om Shanti Om', my favourite Bollywood film. As the song 'Deewangi Deewangi' started playing I glanced around at the audience and thought, 'I might be the only one in the audience who knows what this is…'. Part of me hopes I was the only person - but now a whole lot more people know it!

This production is well worth seeing - it's at the start of its run so there's plenty of time to see it. Head over to the Southbank and be prepared to be surprised.

Poppies at The Tower of London

This evening we went to see the poppies installation at the Tower of London. It's only going to be around for another few days before it starts to be taken down so it was a case of see it or miss it. The pavements around the Tower were packed with people taking photos of the installation and a jolly good sight is is too.

Tube from Westminster to London Bridge, walk down Tooley Street (with a slight detour into the all-year Christmas Shop) and down London Place to City Hall. Across Tower Bridge and there they are in the moat of the Tower of London, the enormous poppies installation with some great views of the lights of London behind the Tower.

There's a ceramic poppy for every British soldier that died in the First World War and the poppies are planted in the lawned 'moat' of the Tower. A sea of red surrounding the Tower, some bits lit up and others not. It wasn't really planned for an evening viewing but, so popular has it become, that it was mobbed with people and cameras. Everyone seemingly wants to see the poppies.

It really is quite spectacular and the photos don't really do it justice. A sea of red around the Tower walls and thousands of people wanting to see them at any given time. The place was so packed it was difficult to walk round, particularly since most of the walkways and pavements aren't really lit for crowds in the dark. And it was very crowded.

Anyway, here are a few photos of the poppies installation taken with my phone. And doesn't Tower Bridge look splendid!

Patrik Fitzgerald - 'Safety Pins, Secret Lives and The Paranoid Ward'

In the important news category, you need to know that a new compilation of the songs of Patrik Fitzgerald will be released by Cherry Red on 24 November 2014. It's called 'Safety Pins, Secret Lives and The Paranoid Ward' with 52 tracks from 1977 - 1986. Head on over to Cherry Red to see the track list.

I've blogged about Patrik before, of course, notably after seeing the documentary about him, 'All The Years Of Trying' back in 2009. I'd love to see him play live - that's something I never managed to do back in the day and I've mentioned before how I missed him playing the Oranges & Lemons pub in Oxford back in 1978.

Come back to London Patrik?

A First World War Tale

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin…

It's the late 70s and a Heroine of the Resistance died. She went underground in 1940 and fought against the German occupation of her country. She was forced underground because her name was in Hitler's little black book, someone to be arrested on sight, just as Virginia and Leonard Woolf's names were in the British version if Germany ever invaded. That book was in the exhibition about Virginia Woolf at the National Portrait Gallery earlier this year.

The death of a great heroine was a noteworthy thing in the late 70s and her passing was noted in national newspapers. The telling of her life explained how she came to be in the black book.

She grew up on a farm in northern France at the start of the last century and later, as war came nearer, the farm ended up ruined and in no-man's land between the trenches. People ran for their lives but she hid in the ruined barn when the bombardment started. At some point, a wounded British soldier crawled into the barn for shelter and passed out from his wounds. A German soldier came into the barn to shoot the British tommy but for some reason she attacked the German soldier and fought him off. At the end of the battle she somehow helped the British tommy get back to the British lines, delirious from the pain and unable to express any thanks. She left him at a field hospital and vanished.

The German soldier was Hitler who clearly had a long memory and, when he came to power he had the resources to find that French farm girl and add her name to his list. Fast-forward to 1940 and the girl, now a woman, vanished into the underground and once again fought German invaders. She somehow survived five long years of war and was rightly celebrated and honoured when her country was free again.

Fast forward another 30 odd years to articles about her exploits in the newspapers to commemorate her passing. The articles caught the attention of researchers working for an old soldiers charity who decided to try to track down any British soldiers that might have fought alongside her. So they scoured old army records for any sign of events that might match her exploits. They managed to find the name of the British tommy from that ruined farmhouse and found out that he survived the war and was still alive, living in an old soldier's home on the edge of the town of Crieff in Scotland.

They got in touch with him to tell him the story of the woman who saved his life. He knew nothing about it, being either delirious or unconscious the whole time and had no idea how he got to the field hospital he woke up in without one of his arms. The old man was now in his 80s and had an important part of his lost past pieced together. There were articles about the British soldier saved from being killed by Hitler and the old man became a minor celebrity in old soldiers circles for a short time. He even went to a royal garden party at Buckingham Palace. He was invited back a couple of years later but declined. Ten years later the old soldier passed away.

The old soldier was my grandfather.

This Remembrance Sunday I will remember those who survived the war, maimed and hurt in ways I can't image. I will remember that old soldier and raise a glass to my Granda.