I only post occasional reviews that I write for the Nottingham Post – they have their own website, after all and it used to be easy to find everything I’d written for them. However, yesterday, when I checked to see what I’d said in my review of Belly at Rock City less than two years ago, I found that that review, along with loads of others, had gone. Nothing before October 17, which means nine years of reviews gone. I don’t know if this is connected with a recent change of policy, whereby only gigs likely to attract a high number of clicks get reviewed. Which also means that this is probably the last time I’ll review a Rescue Rooms gig*. Pity. Here’s what I…
A week’s break on a Greek island (escaping a kitchen refit) followed by a bank holiday weekend has meant that I could catch up on my reading, albeit with a stringent weight limit. And, unlike many of these blogs, where I read books I’ve saved up, most of the reading I did on Skiathos was guided by serendipity. One of my Children’s Literature student lent me The Hate You Give, which recently shared the Children’s Book Award at the Nibbies with The Lost Words. This longish YA novel, inspired by Black Lives Matter (& Tupac’s THUGLIFE tattoo) has won numerous other awards. I was a hundred pages in and polished off the rest of it on the flight and the following morning by the pool. This…
Bit late putting this up, but I think it’s worth preserving my Hollies review on this blog. A slightly extended take on April 25th’s show, originally for the Nottingham Post, whose Kevin Cooper took the photo above. Manchester’s Hollies are in their fifty-sixth year. They formed in 1962, around the same time Ringo Starr joined The Beatles. OK, their Paul (Graham Nash) left in 1968 (wonder what happened to him?), and their John (Allan Clarke) retired 18 years ago. But they still have two, very recognisable original members, drummer Bobby Elliott with Tony Hicks on lead guitar and backing vocals. They still have a catalogue of great pop songs most modern groups would kill for. And they still pack the Concert Hall. I first heard…
I wrote the following for my MA students’ annual anthology, ‘Bystanders’, last year, inspired by its title, but got the ending wrong. I only remembered what I’d forgotten to include, which told me how it needed to end, the one time I read out the piece, at the anthology launch. Good example of why I always tell students the best way to work out what’s wrong with a piece is to read it aloud. THE WIRRAL LINE: 1973 Aged fifteen, I spend a lot of my Saturdays in Liverpool, mostly in record shops. Usually Probe, on Clarence Street. I sometimes stop by the store that used to be Brian Epstein’s NEMS, on Great Charlotte Street. Often Hairy Records on Bold Street. Always Virgin Records, also…
I have a confession to make. Even though, after Hamlet, it’s probably my favourite Shakespeare play, I’d never seen Julius Caesar on the stage before last weekend. I studied it for A level. Large parts of it have stuck with me, not least because A levels coincided with my political awakening (I briefly joined the Young Liberals, who, in my neck of the woods, were a small cabal of anarchists. I also got involved in the referendum to join the EU). So why did I miss it? Well, I went to a working class comprehensive that never organised theatre trips (though we did have one daytrip to London, where I bought my first Nick Drake LP, and they put on a Gilbert and Sullivan every…