1. The Road
2. Blue Valentine
3. This is England
4. The Mist
Still worth a watch though.
Monday 26 September 2011
That Magnificent Sound of Britain
I'm accustomed to writing a blogpost a month. This month seems different. I'm listening to The Sensational Alex Harvey Band after watching the Old Whistle Grey Test on friday night with my dad. It occured to me that what I consider the sound of the country is probably radically different to everyone elses and so on, and so forth.
I grew up in a house where sound only counted as music if a guitar was being strummed in it, or the Rocky soundtrack. So I grew up on Beatles and 60s music alongside Queen up to a point. Then Sabbath, Maiden, Floyd, Zepplin and that ilk. The Clash, The Specials, Madness and more. Those are my magnificent sounds of Britain.
I know some people were put more modern music as part of their view on national identity, but to be far, I was never a fan of it in the first place. Kids my age were listening to Steps' 'Tragedy' and I was always the one saying the original was better (and it was). I was the one who knew the song my schoolteacher was singing in class and joined in (This was junior school), the song was Lazy Sunday Afternoon by The Small Faces.
The only two bands from my teenagehood have since split up, the only modern bands I followed. Hell is for Heroes and The Music.
I bet some people place Ultravox in their Sound of Britain... Craig David... Ick.
I grew up in a house where sound only counted as music if a guitar was being strummed in it, or the Rocky soundtrack. So I grew up on Beatles and 60s music alongside Queen up to a point. Then Sabbath, Maiden, Floyd, Zepplin and that ilk. The Clash, The Specials, Madness and more. Those are my magnificent sounds of Britain.
I know some people were put more modern music as part of their view on national identity, but to be far, I was never a fan of it in the first place. Kids my age were listening to Steps' 'Tragedy' and I was always the one saying the original was better (and it was). I was the one who knew the song my schoolteacher was singing in class and joined in (This was junior school), the song was Lazy Sunday Afternoon by The Small Faces.
The only two bands from my teenagehood have since split up, the only modern bands I followed. Hell is for Heroes and The Music.
I bet some people place Ultravox in their Sound of Britain... Craig David... Ick.
Sunday 25 September 2011
Hate #2
So, this new blogpost has been in my head since wednesday night. Why? Well, what a difference 6 years make. Just hanging out with my brother and a few of his mates before Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy and I go to the toilet, whilst washing my hands, I turrn to my right and the guy washing his hands was in my english class at school from maybe years 9-11 or 10-11.
I haven't seen many or any of the people who I went to school in 6 years, they all went to a sixth form and I went to a college an hour away to study performing arts. I didn't miss them, there were a few who I was still good mates with and then we all went our seperate ways.
Anyway, this guy, I'm going to call him Mick (that isn't his name, but what does it matter, I doubt he remembered mine).
Me: Alright.
Mick: Oh, alright Badger.
Me: Really??
Right then and there, I thought about landing a right hook on his temple. I don't know why I was ever called it, it didn't bother me too much but to just go out right and call me that? Fucking juvenile is what it is. I wasn't the smartest guy at school, I didn't care for school, I survived it. In between the exams, the fights, skipping classes and feigning sickness. I didn't want to learn anything, and most of the people at school were twats who I never socialised with. I reckon I learnt more outside of school than I ever did in it.
I've come along way since school, a really long way. I am completely different to how I was back then, my year 7-8 self was radically different to my years 9-11 self and so on. I don't even consider my time at school at part of me, it's almost like it happened to somebody else, I put it all behind me, I didn't need it and I never will.
Anyway after a while, we've in the pub talking for a minute about what we're doing and I'm talking like I did in school, not knowing what to say, looking all over the place apart from at him. The whole thing threw me off from what I'm usually like, more importantly, I didn't want to talk to him.
I tell him what I studied at Uni, "oh maybe you can get me to act in one of your films". The amount of pressure exerted by comments like that to me is bad, I hate talking about writing, apart from when I'm with friends because we all understand the process.
People expect the best from me when I tell them I want to be a professional screenwriter. My dad the most always asking when I'm "going to be sending off the script to Spielberg", how I never working on anything. I am just slowly thinking things through.
Anyway, Mick is a twat.
I haven't seen many or any of the people who I went to school in 6 years, they all went to a sixth form and I went to a college an hour away to study performing arts. I didn't miss them, there were a few who I was still good mates with and then we all went our seperate ways.
Anyway, this guy, I'm going to call him Mick (that isn't his name, but what does it matter, I doubt he remembered mine).
Me: Alright.
Mick: Oh, alright Badger.
Me: Really??
Right then and there, I thought about landing a right hook on his temple. I don't know why I was ever called it, it didn't bother me too much but to just go out right and call me that? Fucking juvenile is what it is. I wasn't the smartest guy at school, I didn't care for school, I survived it. In between the exams, the fights, skipping classes and feigning sickness. I didn't want to learn anything, and most of the people at school were twats who I never socialised with. I reckon I learnt more outside of school than I ever did in it.
I've come along way since school, a really long way. I am completely different to how I was back then, my year 7-8 self was radically different to my years 9-11 self and so on. I don't even consider my time at school at part of me, it's almost like it happened to somebody else, I put it all behind me, I didn't need it and I never will.
Anyway after a while, we've in the pub talking for a minute about what we're doing and I'm talking like I did in school, not knowing what to say, looking all over the place apart from at him. The whole thing threw me off from what I'm usually like, more importantly, I didn't want to talk to him.
I tell him what I studied at Uni, "oh maybe you can get me to act in one of your films". The amount of pressure exerted by comments like that to me is bad, I hate talking about writing, apart from when I'm with friends because we all understand the process.
People expect the best from me when I tell them I want to be a professional screenwriter. My dad the most always asking when I'm "going to be sending off the script to Spielberg", how I never working on anything. I am just slowly thinking things through.
Anyway, Mick is a twat.
Monday 19 September 2011
Nothing's happening
Should I be surprised? As soon as I leave university, I guess I had some sort of hope instilled in me. Home drains me and my aspirations, of course I am more to blame than my current surroundings. I am currently living a part of my life all over again. Old friends don't live here anymore, I don't have anything to do and I want a job.
Whinge, whinge, whinge.
The idealised version of myself doesn't exist at the moment. No targets, no goals, no enthusiasm. I miss Uni. Being surrounded by people with the same interests and just talking the things we care about helped me.
The funny thing is, I can't relate to many people back home. I couldn't give a shit about football even if you paid me and that seems like the main things people talk about.
I know where I want to be, I just don't know how to get there. Another thing is, am I ready? Rent, food, laundry, I don't have to worry about these things, whilst some of my friends have to figure out how to suppliment their lifestyle whilst they move towards writing something.
Like the song, every day is exactly the same. A treadmill of mundanity.
I need a job that makes me want to get write my way out of it. Here's hoping I get something soon, and I'm fairly confident I shall.
On the brightside, it was good to see friends in Brighton last weekend.
This was another self indulgent broadcast.
Whinge, whinge, whinge.
The idealised version of myself doesn't exist at the moment. No targets, no goals, no enthusiasm. I miss Uni. Being surrounded by people with the same interests and just talking the things we care about helped me.
The funny thing is, I can't relate to many people back home. I couldn't give a shit about football even if you paid me and that seems like the main things people talk about.
I know where I want to be, I just don't know how to get there. Another thing is, am I ready? Rent, food, laundry, I don't have to worry about these things, whilst some of my friends have to figure out how to suppliment their lifestyle whilst they move towards writing something.
Like the song, every day is exactly the same. A treadmill of mundanity.
I need a job that makes me want to get write my way out of it. Here's hoping I get something soon, and I'm fairly confident I shall.
On the brightside, it was good to see friends in Brighton last weekend.
This was another self indulgent broadcast.
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