Happy Christmas

It's been nearly a year since we got Norbert and he worked his way into our hearts very quickly and still continues to charm us daily.

People like me will make the decisions on how crap your lives are going to be...

I am bothered. Now that is not unusual. I am angry, that is also the norm but this is a festering anger that is reaching the point of "lividity" (it sounded better that angridity or furiousility).

Last winter I was angry about the numbers of old people that would die because of the cold. This is the First World, how can that even be the slightest part of a problem? We do not live in a poor Country, sure there was recession and deficit but it is relative to the size of the wealth in the UK, surely we would support the elderly, the infirm and the young from illness and death before forking out to kill a few badgers or to subsidise the lack of tax from big business or to pay £millions in studies for a railway that the public is opposed to? But alas and alack the Government have different values and priorities to me.

Amazingly enough this year there will be the same problem. Thousands of pensioners, those that have paid the longest into the state, will be made to suffer with crippling heating bills and the Government won't do anything about this, still spending money on killing badgers, still planning the £120 Billion railway to shave an hour off the journey from London to Scotland, still allowing big business and wealthy individuals to dodge tax whilst they cut mental health services, benefits and housing..
A week or so back a young lad tried to abduct a young girl from the Churchyard in Aylesbury. 3.30 in the afternoon and he had a knife. There were enough people around to stop him and he was caught. I have heard that he has mental issues caused by drug and alcohol problems.
I am seeing lots young people homeless and begging on the streets. It is all within the last year, never before that have I seen so many homeless people in Aylesbury. Why is this? The local Council managed to fund the £46 Million Theatre (that is running at a loss). They are also continuing to ruin the Canalside with monstrous buildings for the sake of it. There is nothing being built that will bring business or money into Aylesbury, infact that latest building was planned with the investment of some "celebrity" from the Dragons Den but he pulled out, yet the Council went ahead anyway and it is now to be a college of some description, despite the fact that we already have a college that was extended very recently, is in a far better location and it takes some pressure off the already terrible and over stretched road system in Aylesbury town centre.

With all of this frivolous waste of money I have to assume that these homeless young people have chosen their situation. That Aylesbury has a drink and drugs culture and a homeless problem that has sprung up over the last year, not because of cuts to policing and heath services but because people are just taking more drugs and alcohol and prefer to sleep on the streets in the freezing cold.

This occurred to me the other day: whatever happens next in the World I have lived a life and experienced life and despite what a teenager or twenty odd year old might think, in their naivety they may think that they have too but I am afraid for them because the lives they are about to lead are going to be tough and fraught with tough decisions taken on their behalf by those that know better, those that have already had a life, people like me, and that scares me.
For those of you younger people, the future should be yours yet it is still mine. People like me will make the decisions on how crap your lives are going to be and believe you me things don't get any better, life is tough and it only gets tougher. The problems you have now are different to the problems that I had or those of my Dad, we don't understand and never will yet we will be making the decisions on your future.

In a democratic society you would be making the decisions with an army of advisors, older people to give you the benefit of their experience but you are stuck with a cabinet of posh public school boys who don't have a clue about the majority of lives in the UK, they were born into money and power and play at working for a living. This is the same for all the four big political parties. Education does not mean they will make the right decision, particularly when they surround themselves with friends and family and other people with vested interests in the decisions that are made, those that can benefit from certain decisions.
Young people can stop this, they can mobilise themselves, something that they have a handle on through social media, they can make a difference to their own lives. Don't listen to politicians and don't listen to fools like Russell Brand, these are all people that are in the limelight to push their own agendas, none of them can be trusted, and I will tell you this, I can't be trusted either, the moment you start your revolution I will complain because I won't like it but conversely that is a good thing, you need to be revolutionary and rebellious, if you're not that, then you're not living your lives to the full. You need to be full of vim and passion, full to bursting point with the injustice of it all. This is your life, it is the only one that you have, if you can't be angry about what we have done and are doing to you, what will you get angry about?

...animals are more important to the planet than we are.

After a few of years of furious debate, I ran out of arguments and finally became a vegetarian a couple of weeks ago.

I have spent the best part of nearly 2 years arguing with myself about this. It went from arguing the reasons to go vegetarian to arguing the reasons to remain a carnivore. Eventually I was at the point where the only remaining reason was my love of the taste of meat, and that was the big one, why ditch something that you love? It needs a good reason.
From being oblivious to the World around me, I have grown to love nature with a passion, partly due to running and photography and partly due to the badger cull and much down to Malachi. I do believe that animals are more important to the planet than we are. We destroy whereas they live. Our lives are complicated by the need to own and dominate based on wealth and power whereas their need to dominate is based on natural selection, strength and the ability to father strong young. Despite our best efforts to demean animals as being greatly inferior, dolphins use more of their brains than we do and animals play, have fun and love, maybe in different ways to us, but what is the difference? I see it in our cats, they instinctively know cat people and they love their people, I can vouch for that at 3am when our kitten needed cuddles and was licking my face and purring,

None of this is the reason that I quit meat, that reason was far simpler: when calves go to the slaughter they are so scared that they try and suckle on the fingers of the slaughter men.

Somethings are there to break a heart, others are there to get a reaction, this was both of those rolled into one for me.

Remembrance Day 2014

Today is 11th November 2014, an important day and an important year. It has made me reflect on time and how it changes as we get older. Growing up in the '70's, WW1 seemed an age away and I suppose it was, I was younger and the 60 odd years since the war was a long time in a  young life but looking back now, not so far in history. I grew up with the generation that fought, still alive and now we regret not having those first hand accounts. I remember, at the age of 6 or 7 we used to walk past the Captain's house, an old sailor that served in WW1, I don't know how we knew that, he never spoke of it and perhaps that is why it is not  documented more, they never volunteered their life stories and we never asked.

100 years doesn't seem very long ago but I always related to WW1 through history but the BBC have done an amazing job of bringing it to life. They made a short series, "Our World War", three episode (so far) that have made WW1 real. It has a modern soundtrack and the characters are real, not figures in history but young lads reacting the way that young lads always do. It is breathtaking, wonderful, heroic and tragic, I recommend this series to everyone, even my youngest daughter watched an episode and the more outrageous it got, the more we watched until the end when it told us that these were true stories, the bravery and carnage wasn't fictional, it was an account of events that happened.

It is always difficult to find more to say on an event that happens every year, it is always poignant, it always gives pause for thought and reflection but this year is special of course, 100 years is a milestone and it puts WW1 into perspective historically, the first of the modern wars, the first war that used aircraft, tanks and more efficient methods of mass killing. It was the first mechanized war.
I have been wondering what happened after the war, what was the feeling in the UK and the Commonwealth? Was it celebratory or sadness? The lead up to the war had a World in relative peace, economies were strong and life appears to have been lived without too many worries, certainly no one saw the coming doom.

It is worth noting that this will be the strangest of Remembrance days, we celebrate the end of WW1 at the beginning, in this the centenary of the start of the war, we still have 4 years of war to go.

Anyway, on this most special of days, here is my commemoration to WW1. I bought this poppy at Paschendaele in Belgium and on Sunday, as the sun set, I put it to the sky:

...I went to Bournemouth Airshow...

Ypres did knock me for six, I couldn't think of what else to write after that because it all seemed inconsequential, and still does really. Something as immense and World changing as WW1, the art that it inspired through tragedy, adversity and horror, the changes in the way that wars were fought and the technology that it spawned, are all echoed in the World today.

I have often thought about history and the evolution of man. Often looking at earlier versions of us as somehow being inferior because they weren't as technologically advanced. What I have realised as I've gotten older, is that technology has changed and we haven't, infact we've probably become less able to cope, we no longer know how to hunt or what is safe to eat or how to build a dwelling on the fly etc. In my mind I understand that we don't progress, we evolve to suit our surroundings, we are no more intelligent, clever or capable than historical man, we are simply an extremely adaptive species.

Anyway, this post isn't about my ponderings on humankind, it is about the Bournemouth Airshow 2014. It is the only thing I felt I could follow WW1 with because it was a testament to some things that are truly British and reasons to be proud.
Let me explain, last year I went to Clacton Airshow but this year, due to many things beyond my control, I went to Bournemouth Airshow instead. I have to say that the shows are both incredibly similar and you could flip a coin between them as they are both great places to visit. Both shows had the Battle of Britain Memorial flight and the Vulcan and the Red Arrows, the 3 things that bring on the awe and pride of Britain past and present. It is beyond doubt that the Spitfire, Hurricane and Lancaster Bomber saved Britain. They were precision crafted marvels of the air, piloted by brave young men whose sacrifice we can never repay and the BBMF is wonderful testament to them. These are iconic aircraft that mean so much to Britain but unless your Country has ever stood on the brink of invasion and defeat, you can never understand what these aircraft truly mean, they are as important and iconic as HMS Victory, that saved us the last time these shores were threatened with invasion by Napoleon.
Then the Vulcan, I have no idea why I love this aircraft so much, it is just beautiful and the noise is like the God of Thunder's rage, a noise that explodes out of silence and shreds the sky.
Finally the Red Arrows, the best pilots on this planet, serving RAF pilots that craft some of the most incredible, dangerous and breath taking stunts. We just take them for granted but from my vantage point last weekend, I suddenly realised how incredible they are and how close they get.

I'm not going to waste anymore words, see for yourself:

This is not funny and it seeing it from this angle, it is incredible. On one of the passes, one of the pilots twitched a fraction to avoid hitting the other plane, that is how close this gets and how skilled these pilots are. I have incredible respect and more than a little pride in this amazing display team. Check out the 50th Anniversary tail decorations.

To see the Red Arrows 2 or 3 years ago with a 7 plane display after they lost 2 pilots, was truly heartbreaking. I grew up with the Red Arrows and for part of my life I forgot about them and I know many other people have also forgotten about them. Go and see them display, they will take your breath away.

There are many habits that I intend to get into, eating more veg, running more, communing more with nature and seeing the Red Arrows, the Vulcan and the BBMF at least once a year.

Known unto God.

Who could not but shed a tear,
The lists of nations and regiments,
The longer lists of ranks and names,
All lost, unknown and unmarked.

The scattered graves in the fields,
Marked and buried where they fell,
Honoured in death,
More so than in that short life.
The unknowns rest next to names
In death where all are equal.
I hope there is comfort in numbers,
I hope that you didn't have to walk
Alone and unknown...

Now gazing forever over the water,
Ghostly in the mists,
Wraiths upon their battlefields.
Etched upon the walls
And scratched upon village greens,
Monuments to lost souls,
Souls that spent precious few years
In the Country they fought and died for,
Buried in a foreign field as a Century passes.

Names honoured behind a rail
Crested and guarded with iron lions
The irony is not lost as we honour you daily
And shed silent tears in your memory,
Though we never knew you.
Would it make you happy to know
That we didn't forget you?
That Britain's sons are honoured still?
That you achieved immortality in death?

All so young and all gone within seconds,
Minutes and moments of one another.
Row upon row that mark out a battle,
Famous now in history but here and now
The reality is in that inscription,
Known unto God.

I saw my first two unknown soldier graves......

It is peculiar to think that 100 years ago, the War to end all Wars, started. Less than 20 years prior, Britain had been engaged in the Crimean War and the Boer War and 20 years later, World War II. It may even have a bearing on Chamberlain's appeasement of Germany and it most definitely shaped Churchill after his tenure in the trenches and his firsthand experience of modern warfare.

There is something about tragedy that can bring a calmness to a place, I saw that at Auschwitz and I saw that at the Menin Gate. At 8pm I saw the Last Post Ceremony and that was quite something. There were several hundred people around me and on the other side of the Gate, I would assume, a similar number and they all appear to be British. The ceremony is about 1/2 an hour long and it is  moving, I saw a few people leave in tears.

 
Afterwards we walked under the Gate and looked at the long list of names, the Commonwealth dead from Ypres. These are the names of the dead that were never recovered, 56,000 inscribed here and another 36,000 further up the road and that wasn't all of them.

I ran in the mornings, a mile from the hotel to the Gate and along the outside of the Ramparts and back in through the Lille Gate entrance, stopping the visit the small rampart cemetery just inside Ypres. I saw my first two unknown soldier graves and looking around the cemetery, every soldier was killed in 1915, all of these men most likely died in the same battle.

On Sunday it was grey and misty in the morning and that is when I found the Edmund Blunden poem etched in stone to one side of the Menin Gate. It amazes me everytime I read the works of any of the Great war poets, they know how to weave pictures and feelings into such deceptively simple poems.

Later that morning I visited the Passchendaele Museum, that was OK, it had some trenches to show what a clean and less waterlogged trench would look like.

It didn't cover the battles of Ypres/Passchendaele in any detail and that was a shame as the bravery, particularly on the part of the Canadians earned them the nickname of "Stormtroopers" from the German troops.

We did drive past "Gas Corner" and the huge stone megalith that has the top carved in the upper torso of a bowed Tommy, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Julien_Memorial, and I was told that the youngest soldier killed was buried a little way down a main road. He signed up at 14 and was killed at 15.

It was odd to see the graves in fields, a random sporadic scattering in one place and then one or two elsewhere and then another in a different field. There were fields of wheat growing with a cleared circle around a single grave. It was explained that this was a possible battle site or just simply the front. Many soldiers were buried where they fell and graves erected over them. The Belgium people have honoured them, not moving the final resting places and simply working around them, keeping the graves clear.

It is difficult to think that such a war only existed as a strip of battle across several Countries and 100's of miles. It didn't encompass the whole of France or Belgium, it was a strip of red blood across a map, a strip of mud, trenches, guns and gas that took a generation and robbed it of youth and light, leaving a World darkened and scared. After 1914, nothing would ever be the same, a war that used modern technology and old world practises.

The Menin Gate at night is beautiful, but it is all about the names, that long list of names of the Commonwealth troops that served and died, their bodies lost. As far away as it seems and 100 years is a long time, it felt so fresh. I saw people picking out their surnames, related or not and the ages, these young men hadn't lived a full life, they'd barely scratched the surface before death took them.

I found it all more startling and real than it should have been. Time hasn't dulled this and I am pleased for that. I was also pleased to see the large numbers of British people there, it is a testament to our collective memories that we don't abandon the young men of yesteryear, they deserve far more than we could ever give them.

The Great War - The Menin Gate, Ypres

"Can you remember?" by Edmund Blunden 
 
Yes, I still remember
The whole thing in a way;
Edge and exactitude
Depend on the day.

Of all that prodigious scene
There seems scanty loss,
Though mists mainly float and screen
Canal, spire and fosse;

Though commonly I fail to name
That once obvious Hill,
And where we went and whence we came
To be killed, or kill.

Those mists are spiritual
And luminous-obscure,
Evolved of countless circumstance
Of which I am sure;

Of which, at the instance
Of sound, smell, change and stir,
New-old shapes for ever
Intensely recur.

And some are sparkling, laughing, singing,
Young, heroic, mild;
And some incurable, twisted,
Shrieking, dumb, defiled.

This poem is to one side of the Menin Gate.

I met "Simone from Rome..."

Just a really quick post as I had a very strange experience yesterday, partly my fault for being English though. I was in London for a concert that my eldest daughter was participating in. Walking down the street to find a Pizza Express and I saw a chap leaning against a lamp post or some such street sign-age. I did a double take as I walked past because I recognised him. I said to my wife, did we just walk past "so and so" but as she's blind to even people that she knows on the street, she had to look back and confirmed my thought.
I went back to check and started with the stupidest line that exists, I said, "Excuse me, do I know you?" Even as I uttered the words I could hear the most obvious response in my head, if someone asked me that question..."How the hell would I know that?" But he was more polite than that and said something along the lines of "I don't know" so I asked him his name and he said "Simone from Rome". Being English and even despite the obvious little white lie, the reason I had gone down this line of questioning is because we don't like to impose or to embarrass people. I am old school, we are reserved and don't really like to harass celebrities.
He then asked my name so I told him and we shook hands and I told him it had been nice to meet him and left.
On getting in the pizzeria, my daughter and her friend were there and they both had a look down the street and both confirmed that I had the DNA of Johnny Depp on my hand.

So I met "Simone from Rome" on the streets of London and didn't ask for an autograph, didn't get a "selfie" and didn't embarrass the poor chap, I hope, and to Johnny Depp, thank you for "Edward Scissorhands", "Benny and Joon", 'Sleepy Hollow", "Sweeney Todd" and "The Lone Ranger" all great films that I have enjoyed immensely and for Captain Jack Sparrow, a great character that I am pretty sure that is an anagram for Simone from Rome but English was never my strong point...

As an addendum, someone else did get a selfie of themselves with Johnny Depp in London yesterday, bugger.

This made me laugh.

http://thedailyedge.thejournal.ie/pornhub-germany-brazil-1562743-Jul2014/

Genius!

My canvas...

My canvas is carved in morning light with the smell of freshly cut grass, a sea of green and blue with a deceptive breeze that disguises the coming heat.
The sounds of birds whispering on the wind, the warning of me, the flit and flutter of delicate wings as they chase and live for the thrill of flight, the purity of simply being.

My canvas is made up of motes of light that glimmer and glisten across the water, each individual sparkle placed there for me to witness. The gliding ducks that create indiscernible ripples across the breezy surface, nature with its character and humour, yet hardy and flourishing.

 

My canvas is made up of music that lightens my soul, that reminds me of the beauty around me and starts my day with a heart stopping moment that marries the sights and smells with the sounds that make me happy, a moment that I captured today and I am sharing with you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vwb4kpOKw9I

Greetings, it's been a while.

I have been very quiet this year, partly because I haven't done a lot so far and partly because I can't seem to get my lazy behind in gear to write something.

This is just a selection of my musings, thoughts that occur and disappear but seem a shame to waste.

My first thought is how much I love summer rain. We have had a few warm/hot days and today is grey and overcast with drizzle in the air but Britain never looks more beautiful than those moments, the trees filled with green leaves, flowers in full bloom and the contrasts between the bright and dullness, it is magical. I was walking in it today, trying to work out why it is beautiful because it shouldn't be. I suspect it is the complete sensory experience, the drizzle of water on my clothes and hair, the contrasts to the eyes and the sweet smell of the flowers mingled with the damp smell of grass and tarmac, bliss.

I will only mention the World Cup this once, diving is cheating, it is as simple as that. Mueller from the German squad is nothing but a cheat. He cheapens the German side and whatever skill he has is forgotten as all I can see is a cheat. The same goes for Greece, I was supporting them until the diving started and I changed allegiance. It sickens me to the pit of my stomach. In rugby the ref has to send a player off for treatment because they won't leave the pitch, blood pouring from an open wound. The blood is staunched, the wound dressed and they're back on to play.
I would start giving yellow cards for diving, it wouldn't take more than a couple before they stopped.

My running has started to go well. I haven't really gotten back into it properly until two weeks ago. This week I upgraded from a shuffling old man gait to an old man jogging gait and it feels pretty good. I had forgotten the running pace and to finally upgrade to it from jogging pace is a break through, maybe now I will start burning the lbs (or stones) that I gained over the last 2 1/2 years!

A few months back I was told by my wife, that I had to stop using Imperial Leather soap as it was staining the bath orange, unless I wanted to scrub the unwanted colour from the bath. Being a typical male I made the change to shower gels and in the process made a discovery. Actually, 2 discoveries, the first is that it wasn't the Imperial Leather that was responsible for the orange bath, the second is that women get all the good flavoured shower gels. Men get things with names like "refreshing aqua" or "sizzling metal", all of which smells the same. I guess it's supposed to be macho smelling, I'm sure they've researched their demographic and I guess that I'm just not it.
Now, living in a house with 3 women, I have to buy them their shower gels and I have fallen in love with their shower gels, particularly the  "refreshing shea butter and ginger" and the "coconut kiss". Then I had an epiphany, both of these smells should be mixed together. So there I stand, a dash of "coconut kiss" in one hand and a dash of "refreshing shea butter and ginger" in the other, creating alchemy, pure smelling gold. Radox, if you ever read this, please make a shower gel out of both of these, I am taking longer and longer in the shower and all anyone can hear from behind a locked door is the sound of me moaning as the aroma assails my nostrils.

I was on Facebook for a while but ditched it when someone tried to censor a post. It was inconsequential but I was livid. I decided to leave Facebook rather than fall out with anyone and I have to say that life after Facebook is a lot better. It takes me back to pre-PC's, back when I was younger and we didn't have the Internet. I really don't miss being connected to a PC or my phone when I should be experiencing life. I don't feel the need to share everything as it happens, experiences come to those that venture forth from behind the barricades and seize them.
Facebook divided my life, as it does with most people that use it regularly, you have your virtual life and real life and my brain doesn't cope with that too well.
I told a friend to have more adventures and I say that to everyone, go out and see more things, experience more things and live more in the real world. This isn't Facebook bashing, this is a suggestion that life happens whether you like it or not so try and get your head out of your PC or phone to enjoy them before they are gone forever and you missed them. Life can pass through your fingers if you don't pay attention.

Finally I will mention the World Cup just once more. England, you did your best, you created chances and you played some beautiful football but without a Lineker, Platt, Owen or Suarez, basically, without a goal hanger, you are screwed and so you were. I think it was a good squad and hopefully they will be given some years to mature and gel as a unit before someone chops and changes it back to the same old crappy defensive formation that we've had for far too long.

Better to go out in a blaze that submit with a whimper.

Both the Damned and the Wildhearts showed me the real punk attitude...

It's been awhile since my last post, quite a while, so apologies. Not a lot has changed, we have a new kitten, my eldest daughter will be going to Trinity Music College in Greenwich, London, her first choice and I am getting older, fatter and greyer.

This post is about music.

I never got punk the first time around. It could have been an age thing, being too young to appreciate the rebelliousness of the movement and the depression of young people at the time, the Sex Pistols et al were alien to me, I didn't get it, or it could simply have been that it didn't appeal to the Elvis and Eddie Cochran fan that I was at the time.
My life progressed and there was no reason for me to get. I enjoyed the pop punk movement but it wasn't real punk and then my wife took me to see the Damned but this was at a time when they were between the Captain and whilst they were amazing, they weren't a real punk band at the time, despite being the first punk band to release a record. Please don't mistake what I am saying, they were incredible live and I saw them a number of times.
Then the Captain rejoined and their career went off the rails as it has done many times and they were playing smaller venues. A number of years back they were playing the "White Horse" in High Wycombe, relatively local, so I went.
This was the night that I finally "got punk". They were incendiary from the first note to the last note, I finally understood real punk and what it meant. It was attitude, fire, fun and violence. This wasn't new age punk, this was old school, the real McCoy. Captain Sensible was the punk element of the Damned, Dave Vanian is a fine singer, underrated as a singer and a front man but it is the two them together that make it so good. They always had a better ear for a tune than their peers, "New Rose", "Neat,
Neat, Neat", "Love Song" and "Smash it up"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J0ZhofmhIug

(As a note, they released an album a few years back, "So, who's paranoid?" A great album and well worth owning.)

Let me put this blog back on track, I needed to explain my relationship with punk and my definition of punk so you weren't confused with modern punk.

On Thursday last week I took my youngest daughter, all 15 years of her, to see the Wildhearts supported by the Von Hertzen Brothers and Hey Hello. All the stars had aligned for this one night, it was at the Electric Ballroom in Camden, the final night of the tour and the next day was a bank holiday. We got there early and chomped our way through Honest Burger in Camden, they do gluten free burgers, have a vegetarian option and are simply superb, the best burgers I have tasted. They don't do the American style burgers, the tastes can be subtle and the rosemary fries are just...words fail me and dribbling on the desk isn't one of my more attractive traits. Enough to say that if you are in London, they have 5 locations around the town, I've been to 3 of them and I recommend them.

Anyway, on to the gig. I love the Electric Ballroom, it is small and the atmosphere is always good. Hey Hello opened the show and they were great, good fun, lots of crowd participation and I can't wait for them to tour in their own right. This was the perfect  way to start the night, Ginger supporting himself with a contrasting band in the middle but Victoria Liedtke of Hey Hello is the secret weapon, she has attitude and a voice, there is nothing more that need be said, Ginger sat back and let her handle the masses, she was both awkward and confident and I really hope she enjoyed herself as much as we did.

The Von Hertzen Brothers were also very good but different to the other two bands. I enjoyed them but wished I'd known more of their music, that in itself is a testament to them.

The Wildhearts hit the stage and the crowd started bouncing and they simply didn't stop. It was an epic gig, possibly the best I've ever been to, it was punk, real old school punk with pop, metal etc hooked into these huge choruses that the crowd sang, drowning out any chance the band had of being heard and all the while the moshpits were opening up but it was all smiles, none of the intent to hurt apart from the obligatory bruises. We estimated that my daughter was the second youngest person there but with an average crowd age of about 45, it wasn't difficult to spot the youngsters there with their Dads and that leads me to my biggest complaint, the Wildhearts should have been massive, they write huge pop choruses that are welded to worthy words and are easily one of the best live bands I've ever seen (very possibly the best) and they've even had chart success yet they are still unknown, it is criminal.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QQ8gE6VQ518

My daughter loved it and believes it is the best gig she's ever been to, sorry Green Day but you are simply not the real deal anymore, The Wildhearts are aptly named and I recommend that they be seen live the next time they tour.

We both sat there on the Friday, depressed and coming down from an amazing night. I haven't had that feeling after a gig in many years, so roll on May 31st and the Camden Festival as Ginger is doing a solo set and the plan, at the moment, is to see him there.

But just to finish, punk is an odd thing. I understand it better than I ever did and I realise that it is a live experience, you couldn't possibly capture it on vinyl or even a DVD, you have to be there and then you will get it. Both the Damned and the Wildhearts showed me the real punk attitude and it doesn't matter how old we get, we never really get any older than the music we listen to...that's a bit tough on my wife, she loves Bach.

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I said the Wildhearts meld big hooked choruses to worthy words, just illustrate that point, the lyrics and a link to the video of "New Flesh" by the Wildhearts:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KuFGsDl0kLw

We are born into a time of innocent Americans attacked for trying to do a job while some Bin Laden motherfucker takes the credit, but instead of heading to Afghanistan to take him out they went to bomb Iraq and kill some families.

Children die because of some imaginary weapons and to find one of the many, many terrorists upon the planet meanwhile the psychopaths accountable for killing every innocent are all sitting safely out of range. 

Armageddon orchestrated, televised and exaggerated.

We were lied to and we won't get fooled again. 

We are the new flesh, we are the only ones left.

We're the dog you beat down once too much.

We're the cornered rat that will fight back. 

We are born into a time our population is divided, poor and hungry people share the planet with the wealthy and the multi-billion industries pay politicians, actors and musicians more than it would take to shelter all the homeless, and the governments ignore the under funding of researching into mental health, allowing over 70% of people under-educated while the suicides per annum keep increasing and narcotics keep the treated pacified. 

Fame and fortune un-donated by the over paid and the over rated.

We were lied to and we won't get fooled again. 

We are the new flesh, we are the only ones left.

We're the dog you beat down once too much.

We're the cornered rat that will fight back.

This virus breeds inside your system.