Monday 12 December 2011

And we are done

Name the year
That's it for me and Everton. I don't go much now anyway but Saturday's pathetic display at Arsenal has finished me off - specifically when Louis Saha was replaced.
Yes, he'd done fuck all but come on - give him something, anything! And bringing on Sylvain Distain means basically you're declaring at 0-0. Oops, and not for the first time.
What made the whole thing doubly annoying was the pub we'd been in pre-match actually had the game on. It's fitting that it was at Arsenal where I finally decided enough's enough. They compare their ticket prices to things like the theatre.
I'm going on Saturday to watch The Ladykillers - tickets were about the same as Saturday (£35) but with the theatre or a concert or whatever you have an idea of what you're getting. You make an informed decision based on reviews, experience, word of mouth.
It's not like that with football. What other part of your life do you pony up real money, knowing that it's going to be shit? You voluntarily do this week after week.
We were predictably insipid on Saturday. And yes, most teams go there and lose but it's different with Everton. We used to swat them aside. And now what - we (ie David Moyes) treat a 1-0 defeat as some kind of success.
Well we all know where we stand now, and I'm done with it. Fuck you Moyes, fuck you Bill Kenwright and chums, and fuck you Dermot O'Leary (whom I just don't like).

Thursday 24 November 2011

Last night's nerd togger - righteous!

Attacking
I've held off LNNT since Nerd12 came out but last night's was too ace to keep to myself.
I've found myslef bumping between divs eight and seven.
Was two points off promotion to div six once with three games to go but lost all three and got relegated.
I tend to bounce straight back though and L story S last night found myself needing a point to stay in div seven. My opponent was Santos and they, like that Russian lot Eto'o plays for, are tricky fast little buggers.
I've only been Everton on live nerding up to now so I never play United, Bayern and the like, but these two seem the pick of the teams at Everton's level.
Anyway I went one up double quick thanks to Osman, but they hit back with three quick goals - each one a lesson in idiocy from nerd Tim Howard - to put me 3-1 down with 25 nerd minutes gone.
So I went for it and switched to my legendary 3-1-3-3 formation (above), with Coleman and Baines either side of Jerjelka, a midfield of Fellaini, Drenthe (left), Osman (right), Cahill pushed forward, and Saha, Anichebe and Magaye up front. Late on Bilyaletdinov comes on for Osman or Drenthe, with Cahill going in their position and him centre, because he's ace at long shots.
I'd hardly had a shot before making the switch but from then on I was all over him with Fellaini pulling one back with a crisp low finish from the edge of the box right on half time.
Second half I blitzed the 'mother' with two goals in 10 nerd minutes. First a Saha header from a Baines corner, then Mugaye slithered through to crash home.
By now my opponent was sliding in all over the show - first rule of nerd togger, don't lose your rag - and I was dancing through at will. Cahill picked up a loose ball on the edge of the box, spun his marker and smashed home to make it 5-3 to Captain Cool.

Monday 21 November 2011

Thus far and no further



Seriously, just fuck off
Five pounds fucking 50 for a pint of lager! That was the astonishing deal I was bummed with on Saturday eve. I was meeting Mrs Biff for some grub in Shoreditch's trendy 'Shoreditch' and had 20 minutes to kill so nipped for a quick pint.
Found some gaff called the Redchurch Bar on Redchurch street. Looked okay inside, quite dark, lots of deep red furnishings. Gang of girls to the left as I went in, couple of blokes to the right, few people scattered around the back by the bar, to which I headed.
One pint of Sierra Nevada lager ordered and the fella drops the price bombshell on me, prompting the now customary 'how much?!'
He repeated the price and all I could stammer was 'why?'.
And it's a fair question - what possible business has anyone asking £5.50 for a pint? They've not even paused to admire the view from £4 a pint mountain - which is outrageous anyway - they've just hurtled on, busting straight through the previously-theoretical £5 a pint barrier and landed plum 'twixt a flim and six pounds UK.
I bought it like because I didn't want them thinking I was poor or a mingeo, both of which are true.
Fold
The thing with this gaff was, the crowd didn't look particularly well off or even very 'Shoreditch'. And there was at least one student in (I heard him talking about his course) so how can he afford to sup there?
This comes tepid on the heels of being charged £8-odd for a pint of Peroni and a small Baileys at the Hen & Chickens by Highbury Corner - a scandalous amount for two drinks but a bargain compared to the Redchurch deal.
These places are supposed to be - at least nominally - neighbourhood establishments but they're charging the sort of prices people who've visited Scandinavia come back weeping about.
Presumably it's an aggressive move to ensure people like me don't go in places like that. Well that's fine, but eventually more people will start thinking, is this really worth it?
I've lived in London 11 years and I'm braced for the price of most things but if we're seriously saying that a tenner might not be enough to secure two pints then the whole thing's gone to shit. This should be hover-packs-for-all in the future, not here and now.
Anyway the grub at the Hoxton Furnace was dead on - pizzas were v tasty and passed the fold test. Rubbish picture I know. The service was pretty hopeless though. Slow drinks, slow bill, not a huge deal but a bit wearing.
Funster in 'da house'
Then it was off home and a chance to marvel at this idiot's shoes - he was being loud and wacky, even by East London Line standards. I think he was foreign.


Tuesday 15 November 2011

Stapes and Browns, where's all the fun

Mayhem
It's easy to forget, under this new insanovision Coronation Street, that Fiz's family used to be funny, and Chesney was very cute.
This was before that small mole started trying to get out of the end of his nose.
But gone are the knockabout larks of yore - even Chez's mate Kirk's been dragged into the abyss lately.
This is a family that, off the top of my head in the last two years or so, has seen Fiz convicted of murder - for which she's just been bailed pending appeal (!) - for a crime she didn't commit. Okay so she might have covered up the body - or was that the other one? But the actual killing was done by her (now late) husband John.
That's Stape, who has killed one person (Charlotte the Smash robot) by caving her in the head with a hammer - whose body, actually she was still alive at this point, he dumped in the rubble caused by a train wreck outside his gaff - and let another (Colin Fishwick) die in his house, before burying him under the knicker factory floor, so he could continue living under John's name, thus allowing him to teach.
The reason he couldn't teach - his old job - under his own identity is he had an affair with a schoolgirl (Rosie) and then kidnapped her - can anyone remember why? So he nicked Colin's identity.
While in prison for at least some of that, and diagnosed with acute mentalness of the cranium, he and Fiz get married. Outside of nick John gets a stalker, and L story S, it's Charlotte.
John and Fiz have a kid which develops a hole in the heart, John also kills Colin's mum to stop her shouting after he confesses to her what he's done (up to that point).
Then Fiz nicks the mum's legacy, meanwhile John is pretending to Charlotte's parents that he (as Colin) was going to marry Charlotte. Chesney susses it so John holds him and Charlotte's parents hostage in the basement for a bit until Fiz - who STILL won't turn John in - rescues them. At some point in all this John had stopped taking his mental pills.
But before that John gets a job digging holes for Chesney's girlfriend's dad Owen - he's only about to dig up Colin! Luckily he gets Fiz to help him sling the body in the canal.
After that she rescues Chesney and the parents before the police turn up and John then nicks his and Fiz's baby. Fiz then gets run over, John comes back the hozzy, gives her the kid, goes to the roof, falls off it and disappears.
Then he comes back a bit later and kidnaps Rosie again before crashing his car with her dad Kevin in hot pursuit. John then dies in hospital but not before he videoed a confession supposedly exonerating his wife of all crimes.
As of last night Fiz was still in nick, but about to be bailed. She's been found guilty of one murder and possibly she got done for nicking the old girl's money, although that bit seems to have been forgotten.
While in nick, Fiz has been accused of being a grass, had her baby threatened, grassed, and bashed the woman who threatened her baby.
And just to round things off about two weeks ago they (the government?) gave the dog Schmeichel (a great Dane - I only just got that) cancer. The dog. Got cancer. This is how you want to get people watching, ITV?
He died last night, but only after Chez had nicked the money his bird's dad had given her to pay the rent, which was late so a bailiff came round, on vets bills and medicinal bonio and the like. Was the rent really bailiff late though?
I think that's about it. Now, is it just me or does that all seem a little far fetched?

Monday 7 November 2011

Onwards and crudwards

Gone (he isn't mentioned anywhere here you know)
To business. What we saw at Sames' Park on Saturday was Everton's problems simply nutshelled. Can't score goals, can't defend, tippy-tappy it around a bit in the middle to no great effect.
The excellent executioners bong website says we're only three points worse off than the same stage last season, when we went on to finish seventh.
Yes we are, but we're also really shit. I mean, needing-a-priest-to-get-out-of-it shit. We seem incapable of regularly getting the ball and some of our players around the opposition box - it's one or the other. Jack Rodwell's goal shows what can happen if you get people forward.
At the back we can't keep crosses out, and this is where we're letting goals in from. Maybe it's because the full-backs aren't getting any protection - I don't know.
Let's not dignify playing Seamus Coleman on the left with any discussion, but generally he's been poor this season. He works had, and yes he was cheap, but he isn't very good. Running fast is great if you're strictly in the running fast business, but he isn't. He's in the controlling the ball and doing something with it business.
On the other side Royston Drenthe is clearly lively and quick and actually a good player, but he's also an idiot.  Prone to wander in, leaving Leighton Baines - our one truly excellent player - on his own. With Drenthe you probably have to budget for one major cock-up a game. Like if your mother was a hen.
Generally the problem seems to be we're going out hoping to get something, rather than forcing things. David Moyes has always been a reactive manager with Everton - rarely changing things early, even if we're playing shit. He's also been generally a conservative one, favouring 4-5-1 most of the time.
It worked well while we had good players but now we don't. Louis Saha - and it's an abject dereliction of duty to leave your team relying on him for goals - is isolated in most games or ends up going out wide to pick the ball up, leaving us with nowt up front.
Goal!
Newcastle had two up front on Saturday and it meant that our centre halfs couldn't settle, whereas we are content to sit back and defend from the halfway line. This can work but wouldn't it be better to have some pressure further up the pitch?
This formation got the best out of players like Mikel Arteta, Steven Pienaar and Tim Cahill, but two of those have now gone and the other one is struggling for form.
Cahill's not scored for Everton since - you'd think this would be easy to find what with that internet and all but it isn't. I think it's about a year. Anyway, coincidence?
We look like a team struggling, not just for form, but for confidence. If we concede one everyone knows there's little chance of us scoring two.
Look at how Newcastle defended on Saturday, they did just enough most of the time. Like against Manchester United we never really looked like scoring - there were few occasions where you'd think, he should have scored.
Newcastle look half-decent but that's about it, we look slow and knackered. They had more than enough for to keep us out.
Moyes has obviously been dealt a shitty hand on transfers but he has to get on with it because if this team gets stuck down the bottom I doubt it has the quality or the oomph to get out of it.
Moyes seems to send them out looking to keep it tight until half time and go from there. He needs to send them out to attack because lately we look like we're hoping to draw, and it isn't working.

Friday 4 November 2011

This week's top search terms

Search
Ever wondered how other right-thinking individuals end up on the website that lets men breathe out and scratch the bits that don't scratch themselves?
Here are this week's top search terms which landed, well you get the idea:
happy festivus
night club
chucky 1
festivus
gaddafi medals
santiago bernabeu
bernabeu night
big tits ass club dance
ugly kopite

Nick in here, a celebration

Can you guess?
I work with two fellows called Nick. They're both idiots but main Nick has an incredible capacity for blather - one unmatched in any human animal I have encountered.
Steve Martin's rant at the fat fella out of Uncle Buck whose name I forget could have been written for Nick.
Anyway, presenting this week's Nick in here gold (all material is from him, where a conversation ensues it is marked accordingly).


'As soon as you stop looking for something you always find it dont you?'


'If he's having a fag break hell be outside having a fag wont he?' 

In conversation with other Nick: 
Nick: 'I can't believe its November already.' 
Other Nick: 'It is.' 
Nick: 'It's incredible.' 
Other Nick: 'I know.' 


'It's amazing, isn't it?' (This didn't appear to be aimed at anyone or anything)


In conversation with me: 
Nick: 'Bless you.'
Me: 'That was a cough, it doesn't count.'
-An hour later-
Nick: 'Bless you' (barely audible, behind his hand and facing into the corner after I sneezed)
Me: 'What?'


'I wonder how much time I've wasted...' (Tailed off at this point - a cry for help? UNHEEDED)


'I've watched every episode of Smallville.'


'I went twice. But in the end I just put it under the door. Ha ha ha!'


In conversation with other Nick: 
Nick: 'She goes and moves her car every couple of hours.'
Other Nick: 'Who does?'
Nick: 'Sheila.'
Other Nick: 'Why does she do that?'
Nick: 'It's the meters. A few people do it.'
Other Nick: 'Oh, the meters.'
Nick: 'Yes.'



Sunday 30 October 2011

Everton v Manchester United REPORT!

Takeaway
Manchester United bounced RIGHT fucking back from last Sunday's humiliation at the golden hands of Manchester City by dispatching Everton with minimum fuss.
Everton had a go at it for about 15 minutes and went close, then United scored and Goodison deflated and sagged like Nigella Lawson after her 'best' girdle splits. Does that work? I'm not sure it does.
Anyway half time came and people didn't even bother discussing the match because no one really cares any more, I mean what's the point?
This happened to Everton against United even when we had a half decent team, but now? We've now sold all our best players - Fellaini? Oh fuck off - and signed the Argentinian Ashley Ward as back up for two perma-injured layabouts and a Greek lad who looks slightly embarrassed to be there.
Be honest, have you ever seen anyone look so awkward as Aspostolos Velios after his two goals, which I think make him joint top scorer for the Blues. Fucking two.
There was a - ACTUALLY THIS DIDN'T HAPPEN AS UNITED WERE HAPPY TO LET EVERTON HAVE THE BALL BUT IF THEY'D SCORED A SECOND I THINK IT WOULD HAVE - brief rally at the start of the second half, from the players and the stands, until United popped in the second on the hour, leaving the Goodison support with a stark choice - early dart or stay to boo?
It'll probably stay 2-0 because, if we're honest, it's a result which suits us all - points for them, and at least we didn't get fucked by a team that, horror of horrors, spends money. Ooh, the rotters.

Everton: Howard, Hibbert, Jerjelka, Distain, Baines, Coleman, Osman, Fellaini, Rodwell, Cahill, Saha. He'll have Coleman on the right, Osman on the left and the other three fannying around in the middle with Saha looking like a fella starved of attention 30 yards further up the pitch.
Okay, so Cahill was injured but the Russian came and showed us all what a superb piece of business he was. I've never seen anyone so adept at making sure there was an opposition player between him and the ball at all times.
Also does Fellaini ever pass it forward? You too, Rodwell. Either/or with those two I think.

Friday 28 October 2011

Everton v Manchester United - PREVIEW!

No chance
Manchester United will bounce RIGHT fucking back from last Sunday's humiliation at the golden hands of Manchester City by dispatching Everton with minimum fuss.
Everton will have a go at it for about 15 minutes, maybe even go close, then United will score one and Goodison will deflate and sag like Nigella Lawson after her 'best' girdle splits. Does that work? I'm not sure it does.
Anyway half time will come and people won't even bother discussing the match because no one really cares any more, I mean what's the point?
This happened to Everton against United even when we had a half decent team, but now? We've now sold all our best players - Fellaini? Oh fuck off - and signed the Argentinian Ashley Ward as back up for two perma-injured layabouts and a Greek lad who looks slightly embarrassed to be there.
Be honest, have you ever seen anyone look so awkward as Aspostolos Velios after his two goals, which I think make him joint top scorer for the Blues. Fucking two.
There'll be a brief rally at the start of the second half, from the players and the stands, until United pop in the second on the hour, leaving the Goodison support with a stark choice - early dart or stay to boo?
It'll probably stay 2-0 because, if we're honest, it's a result which suits us all - points for them, and at least we didn't get fucked by a team that, horror of horrors, spends money. Ooh, the rotters.
Everton: Howard, Hibbert, Jerjelka, Distain, Baines, Coleman, Osman, Fellaini, Rodwell, Cahill, Saha. He'll have Coleman on the right, Osman on the left and the other three fannying around in the middle with Saha looking like a fella starved of attention 30 yards further up the pitch.

Wednesday 19 October 2011

How many lists make five? A list, a list, a list and a half...


Lists
Back to the well in a little feature I like to call: Pitched ideas that may or may not have been picked up by magazines a few years ago. 
It's a rich vein of material and no mistake, if this sizzling stack of lists sent to the now defunct and much-missed Jack magazine is any guide. 
Not sure how many they used but these would have been done in about 2004 and give a fair insight in to the mind of the 30-something male of the day. 
I'd not long given up smoking and had recently rekindled a rampant love affair with chocolate (oh! Smarties bars and loneliness...) 
And don't forget, Eccles Cake or Egg Custard, while you're here.

Jack Lists
 Five National Lampoon’s Vacation things:
  • Cousin Vicki: “I'm going steady, and I French kiss.”
    Audrey: “So? Everybody does that.”
    Cousin Vicki: “Yeah, but Daddy says I'm the best at it.”

  • Rusty: “Oink Oink, my good man!"

  • Rusty: “Dad, I think he’s gonna pork her!”

  • Rusty: “So I says to him, I said "Get your own monkey!”

  • Cousin Eddie: “I haven't seen a beatin' like that since somebody stuck a banana in my pants and turned a monkey loose.”
          Clark: “Thanks for the pick me up Eddie.”


Ha ha ha!
 Five awful sports brands:
  • Troop
  • British Knights
  • K – Swiss (original five stripes? You’re fooling no one)
  • Pony
  • Skechers
 Five modern crisp classics:
Yummo!
  • McCoy’s Thai sweet chicken
  • Golden Wonder sausage and tomato
  • Rib n’ Saucy Nik Naks
  • Bugles – all of them
  • Sweet chilli Doritos
 Five incredible contemporary confectionery treats
  • Kit Kat Kubes
  • Mars Delight
  • Cornetto love potions
  • Peanut Lion bar
  • Smarties chocolate bars
 Five things you never got for chrimbo:
Fucking  A
  • Big Trak
  • Millenium Falcon
  • Diamondback BMX
  • TCR
  • Battery-powered car you could sit in and drive

Five 70s rockers you won’t admit you like:
  • Steely Dan
  • Electric Light Orchestra
  • The Eagles
  • The Doobie Brothers
  • Peter Frampton
Matt Smith wrote Jet Set Willy 

Five great football teams:
  • Everton 1984 – 1987
  • Manchester United 1994 – 1999
  • Liverpool 1976 – 1984
  • Arsenal 1998 – present
  • Leeds United 1968 – 1974

Five great Spectrum games:
  • Jet Set Willy
  • Skooldaze
  • Chuckie Egg
  • Match Day
  • Attic Attack

Five ace words to say:
  • Undies
  • Trump
  • Blubber
  • Crud
  • Balderdash
10 Gatwick airport things:

Roomy
  • Thinking “you’d better be foreign” at Nike Extravago-shod youths
  • Departure screens all over the show - but no clock. Anywhere.
  • An ill-advised wink at the passport control chap
  • A double brandy
  • A seven paaanddd brekky
  • Yanks trying on flat caps
  • The anxiety of a bearded man going through customs
  • Stag dos going to Amsterdam, smiling
  • Stag dos coming in from Amsterdam, smiling nervously
  • Cavernous disabled toilets


Monday 17 October 2011

(Not even) the best of the rest

The best
"It's a sign of how far we've come...' is one of new football's most irritating phrases. Kenny 'Kenny' Dalglish said it the other day in reference to drawing at home to a Manchester United XI.
Evertonians said it about us for a bit, but not now.
When we were the 'best of the rest' the underlying fear was, given the lack of dough, what would happen when we fell away. Now we're seeing it.
After the 2009 FA Cup final - this was straight after, in the pub - a pal said it would be the high water mark, and clearly he was right.
But less realistic members of Everton's super hunky support reckoned with just a few tweaks we could still do something.
Those tweaks were generally regarded as getting shut of Tony Hibbert and Leon Osman, widely regarded as being not quite good enough for the mythical 'next level' - in our case fourth.
Of the two, it's Osman's current standing which is interesting. A midfield which once seemed a little over-fed has now shed its two leading creative types - Steven Pienaar and that RAT Mikel Arteta - to leave Osman as arguably the main schemer.
Osman's a fine player, but has looked a bit lost of late, although it could be argued he's never really been that good in the big games.
Marouane Fellaini can be a brilliant player but he's been really off it this season, and he's clearly leaving, so we appear to be preparing to heap more pressure on Osman.
It's a sign of how far we've fallen that he's the creative mainstay of a team that, until quite recently, looked on the verge of doing something.
In fact you might say Osman has now become 'the best of the rest'. You see, kids. This is how the pros do it.

Thursday 6 October 2011

What the deuce?

Moments later the rule book was in shreds
Just having me dinner then (pictured) at the Trafalgar Cafe in Greenwich. Sat at one of those two-seater tables that is only suitable for one person reading the paper.
I was just tucking in to the first act of my mega-sarnie - chicken salad, toasted ciabatta, mayo on side - when this old woman marches up and sits down opposite me. And to make it clear she wasn't marking time she whips out her own paper, forcing me to move mine right to the side and rearrange my food and beverage. There were seats available at more ample tables.
Now I'm all shoved in the corner like an immigrant in a shipping container while she unfolds her Daily Express and takes delivery of a full roast dinner if you please. On a Thursday! The raised eyebrows of the woman on a neighbouring table were but a whisper of the full horror that was unfolding.
I had to eat part two of me sarnie trying not to catch the eye of my companion, lest her withering glance turn me to stone. She probably thought as she'd made it this far in life - at least 80 - there's no point wasting time with excuse mes or general niceties, and I salute her for that. Not a single word was exchanged between us during the 10 l-o-n-g minutes.
Wanker
After that I got to see a clamper in action. I then hung around to see him greet his 'fly' with ill-hidden glee. The wanker.

Monday 3 October 2011

Why does the sun go on shining?

Dignified

Let's keep this brief. It is my contention that there is a reason things like Jack Rodwell's sending off keep happening to Everton. And it's down to the way the club portrays itself, as the plucky victim.
Liverpool get a few decisions they don't like and what happens? They demand answers from the very overlords of refereeing, because how dare anyone do anything they don't like?
Whereas Everton have been wringing their hands and apologising for making the place look a mess for so long they expect to get the shitty end of the stick, and are rarely disappointed.
That utter gobshite Graham Poll was interviewed on the official Everton website last week. Here's what he said about the pressure the Goodison crowd puts on the referee: "If a decision goes against Everton early in the match the crowd can really get on your case. 
"I find referees tend to react in one of two ways - they're either slightly influenced by the crowd and Everton get one or two decisions. The other kind probably dig in and think ‘I’ll show you – you can’t put pressure on me’. Nobody would deliberately go against a team, but subliminally you might."
Now how many times have you seen a referee at Goodison - especially against Liverpool or Manchester United - do the latter? I’ll stick my neck out here and say it doesn’t happen very often at Anfield or Old Trafford (to the home team, obviously). 
The only reason I can think of is, it’s not expected to happen, so generally it doesn’t. Opposition teams rarely get penalties at Old Trafford, because it would be 'wrong'.
So how do Everton change things? In the week leading up to a big game David Moyes should be banging on about the need for a strong ref, one who doesn't want to be friends with ‘Stevie’ or ‘Wazza’. He should be pointing out that we've had some appalling decisions in these games – just keep banging on and on and on.
And yes I know there’s something to be said for being stoic and just getting on with it, but we’ve done that and this is what happens. Maybe we should try and play the game, wretched as it is, a bit more. 
Because the records don’t show that convention dictated Liverpool throw the ball back to West Ham in the last minute of the cup final. They show the result after Liverpool - quite rightly - played on, Steven Gerrard equalised and Liverpool went on to win the cup. 
Do we want to be nice or do we want to win?  

Tuesday 20 September 2011

Hats off to... Inspiral Carpets

Cool
So uncool they were cool as fuck, the recently-reformed - with new material and tours promised - Inspiral Carpets are one of the best bands this superhunk has ever seen live.
They were cracking value all round - brilliant t-shirts, 'cool as milk' milk bottles, supremely entertaining interviews (including referring to themselves as 'the new young govnors' while digging at the Happy Mondays for guest editing Penthouse, or something) and leaping to the aid of a lad in Coventry charged in 1990 under the 1981 Indecent Displays Act for wearing a 'Cool As Fuck' T-shirt. They made some ace records too.
I first got in to them when Trainsurfing came out on the group's own Cow label. It's still my favourite record. Four ace tunes (Butterfly, Causeway, You Can't Take the Truth, Greek Wedding Song), a nice thick slab of vinyl and a bright blue and yellow sleeve. All for about £3. 
My group recorded a demo at Out of the Blue in Manchester, at least partly because Trainsurfing was recorded there. No Nick Garside that day, Adam Lesser I think it was. Nice lad.
The tunes were all fast and catchy, with fairly economic bass and guitar lifted by Clint Boon's keyboards, Craig Gill's machine-gun drumming, and Stephen Holt's vocals. Added to this, they looked like a gang of lads who go the match, which is important to an 18-year-old lad who goes the match.
From there I went backwards and got the Dung 4 cassette - with patronage from the likes of Joe Royle and Cyril Smith ('friends, not my scene') - and a tape of the Plane Crash EP (home taping is killing music). 
And that was all they released with Holt and original bass player David Swift, who both left (Holt at least on good terms - I can't find any reference to Swift.) and formed the Rainkings. They released two brilliant EPs on Playtime records - soon to be re-released according to @StephenEHolt on the popular website Twitter.  
Masculine
But I digress, Holt and Swift were replaced by Tom Hingley and Martyn Walsh and the next single out was Joe, another cracker with fine work elsewhere on the disc (Directing Traffic, Commercial Mix and Commercial Reign). 
Hingley's the better singer but I always preferred Holt. He just sounded more 'normal'. He can hold a tune, no danger there, but his voice really suited those earlier garage-sounding releases. It was heads down, no messing around fast tuneful stuff.
I first saw them live at the Hacienda in 1989, I think when Move grazed the charts. The place was heaving and they were brilliant (supported by the not-bad-at-all Bridewell Taxis) with a mad slide show and the five of them cramped on the Hacienda stage. They were clearly not going to be playing a place that small next time round.
When the first LP, Life, was released on Mute they'd already made the charts with This is How it Feels, and toured the album at bigger gaffs. I saw them at the Royal Court in Liverpool and they were mustard.  
The second album Beast Inside was a less 'immediate' affair as Clint Boon mentions in an interview on John Robb's website
I remember Boon telling (I think) Pete Mitchell on (I think) his ace Piccadilly Radio Saturday aftternoon show that the album represented where they were at the time it was made. But Caravan, and its b-side with religious overtones Skidoo are both crackers.
They continued banging out singles, highlights included the Island Head EP, Dragging me Down, Saturn 5 and I Want You (with Mark E Smith of t'Fall - if you haven't read Renegade, you're failing yourself) and two more albums, Revenge of the Goldfish, and Devil Hopping (named after producer Pascal Gabriel's pronunciation of the word "developing".)  
Errant apostrophe alert
And that was largely it, they split up without my realising it in the mid-90s before re-emerging in 2003 with the Cool As compilation, which is ace. If you've not got any of their stuff you could do worse than start there.
The Inspirals never quite had the same caché as their peers but I could never understand why. The Stone Roses first album is great but it sounds dated now, and the Happy Mondays released some real gash along with the good stuff. The Inspirals just carried on releasing consistently good pop music - nothing too clever, but who wants that?
A few questions though:
Why did they change the lyrics in This is How it Feels from the Peel Session version for the album version? 
Why did David Swift leave, was it amicable, and what's he up to now?
Did Twitter have any role to play in Holt getting back with the group?
Should I tell Mrs Biff I've got a derby ticket or should I just go anyway then insist I told her, thus planting memory-loss seeds for future schemes?


(I've pinched all the above pics off various blogs so if anyone's distraught by this I'll happily take them down.)




Thursday 1 September 2011

Deadline day, as it happened

Cunt
Wow! Well how was it for you? Another incredible transfer deadline day - or 'season long loan', if you will - is over.
As ever your favourite lifestyle website for top boners was all over the big stories. If you missed any of it, here's what the nation's top Twitter feed revealed yesterday. 
Read from the bottom up to get a sense of the how things unfolded, or from the top to take a trip back in time. 
All spelling and grammar has been left as is to give you a sense of the urgency and drama we professionals are in the middle of on the day when football teams do the same thing they do for many months of the year, only with more shouting. 


LAVA move on hold! delivery of burning torches diverted from goodison to emirates. angry mob mulling options


 





FLANGER: man eats pig! stock market rallies!





 









  
An Evening With Sir Terry Pratchett featuring the same story over and over again. via





biff bifferson