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Life as we know it

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Image by <a href="https://pixabay.com/users/friis-236854/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=333574">Philip Friis</a> from <a href="https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=333574">Pixabay</a>Well now… I figure that I owe all good, gentle and most patient readers something like half of a story – and as I aim to be a man of my word…

No recaps! If you want to catch up click here to revisit the last post and thus glean all there is to know up to this point; I’m just going to plough straight on ahead.

So – ‘Go West’ were recording in Gary, Dave and Rod’s studio, with Gary producing and Dave doing the synth programming and keyboard work. This was the early 80s, the era of synth-pop, the which had come about because of the advent of such seminal keyboards as the Sequential Circuits Prophet 5, the Roland Jupiter 8, the Yamaha DX7, the Korg M1 (of which I still have one which sits next to me as I write) and the ground-breaking Fairlight – so Dave’s particular talents were suddenly much in demand.

Gary and Dave worked on demo versions of two ‘Go West’ tracks – “Call Me” and “We Close Our Eyes” – which so impressed the record companies to which they were submitted that there was virtually a bidding war to sign the duo. ‘Go West’ became – for a while – pretty big in Europe (if not in North America) and toured there and as far afield as Japan. Needing augmentation for touring and recording they took on Gary and Dave as ‘permanent’ members. I remember Dave sending me a postcard from Japan when they were touring there.

As with many such genres synth-pop slowly faded from musical fashionability and ‘Go West’ faded with it – though the various constituent members are still working as far as I can tell (as would seem to be the case with many 80s bands).

Now – you may ask – why do I bring this all up right now? The answer is that – as mentioned before – the pandemic and associated lock-downs has led to a certain introspection and backward-looking – a certain affectionate wallowing in nostalgia, if you like. Long story, short – having lost touch with Dave at some point in the mid-80s I recently spent some time on the InterWebNet trying to find out what happened him. As is often the way in such circumstances I discovered some things that I had not previously known.

The band that Gary, Dave and Rob had formed back in the early 80s was called ‘Radar’. At the point at which they were swept up in the whole ‘Go West’ circus they were approaching the end of recording their own first album which was to have been titled “Lost in the Atlantic“. With everything else that was happening to them at the time that work was put on the back burner – and subsequently the album was never released…

…until now! This very year – just over a month ago – it finally came out in a limited release on a specialist label – Escape Music. You can read all about it here – and should you be an enthusiast for mid-80s synth-pop you might just care to give it a listen.

On a personal note it seems to me a somewhat strange synchronicity that – having lost touch with Dave at around the time this music was being created – I should next think to track him down (virtually!) at the point that it was finally released nearly four decades later.

Funny old world – ain’t it?

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As promised in my last but one post – an anecdote with a strong element of nostalgia… for me at any rate.

Back in the day (promising start – though we need not concern ourselves as to exactly which day) I played in a variety of bands in and around London in the UK. My very first band – in which all concerned cut their teeth as musicians – stayed together for around eight years, which really is pretty good going first time out. Amongst our other achievements we became connected to a Young People’s theatre company for whom we were invited to write a musical… and then another… and another… By the end of the 70s we had played our part in the creation of three musicals – two of which had been taken to the Edinburgh Fringe.

By that time the band had reached the point at which it was clearly time to go our separate ways. As a farewell ‘tour’ we managed to land a week of gig bookings back in Edinburgh at the Fringe Club and a night Upstairs at Ronnie Scott’s in London. This was to be our swan-song.

Now, at that point there were two brothers in the band who both played keyboards, but who were – for reasons I do not now recall – unable to make the trip north. We decided to do that which bands in the UK were wont to do in such situations – we advertised in the Melody Maker for someone to fill in. The ad was answered by a keen young chap who will for the purposes of this piece go by the name ‘Dave’ (for that was his name!). He was young (about seventeen I think) and precociously talented. He was also a really nice guy.

He duly came to Edinburgh with us – played Ronnie Scott’s with us – was appropriately sad when everything came to an end and we resolved to stay in touch – the which for a while we duly did.

Now Dave had left school by this point and was looking for somewhere to work. As it happened I was a regular gawker (and occasional customer) at my local music shop in Surrey and one day I saw advertised there the position of keyboard salesman. I drew this to Dave’s attention; he applied and got the job.

The guitar salesman at the store was a chap called Gary. He was somewhat older than Dave and had ambitions in both production and to play in a band. He and Dave and a vocalist/bassist called Rod quickly started working together. They built themselves a small studio (a lot more difficult in those less technical days) and set about writing and recording. They attracted some interest and soon gained a publishing contract.

At about this time various other local bands started to avail themselves both of the studio and of Gary’s production talents. One of these outfits was a duo that went by the name ‘Go West’.

Now – this story is clearly going to make for quite a long post, so I think it best to split it here and to finish it off in what I promise will definitely be the very next post…

See you then…

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It should perhaps be unsurprising in such times as these – that is, both when the winter is yet dragging its feet and noisily denying a platform to the incipient spring – and when the pernicious pandemic, still charging ahead at pretty near full throttle, keeps us cowering, heads well down, in our cardboard castles – that our thoughts turn to other and (in our memories at least) more gentle times.

Yes – it is for such ages that nostalgia was invented. This post (and quite possibly the next) will be devoted to the subject of just such wallowage (a word which appears in abundance on the InterWebNet but which may not be located within any dictionary as far as I can see).

At this point two years ago we were excitedly preparing for our last visit to the UK and to Europe (now, of course, sadly different things!). As that was to be our first trip back since moving to Canada in 2015 it is not surprising that revisiting old haunts and re-uniting with loved ones – both family and friends – featured prominently on the agenda.

Having done so within these postings on more than one occasion I am not about to recount yet again our doings on that trip but more to dwell upon the aftermath thereof… the echoes, should one prefer. I wrote at the time of the friends and family with who we had been re-united and I also waxed extremely lyrical concerning the long-lost contacts that were remade – particularly with those with whom I had at one point been fortunate enough to have created music or theatre.

Quite delightfully many of us who re-kindled associations on that trip are still in touch by one means or another – but mostly, it should be said, courtesy of the InterWebNet. Some keep in touch by email – some follow this blog (and on occasion respond thereto) and others have formed or joined the sort of online groups that may be used to share memories of people, places and events from our shared pasts.

Quite apart from the pleasures to be enjoyed by the recollection of the treasured memories that may thus be evoked this does give me – at least (though I suspect others also) – pause to consider just how rich were the experiences that we shared and the relationships that we formed. In my view we were – and still are – lucky, lucky people…

The next post will concern one of those odd little twists of fate that perhaps all lives throw up… (or perhaps not)!

On with the nostalgia…

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“With COVID-19, we’ve made it to the life raft. Dry land is far away”

Marc Lipsitch

It has now been a year since the advent of the COVID-19 pandemic changed all of our lives utterly. Some – of course – have been far worse affected than others and our hearts go out to those who have lost loved ones or whose lives have been dramatically and negatively impacted in any way by the virus and the resultant disease.

I am sure that the gentle reader will have – as have I – been keeping abreast of the situation by following news stories, reading articles and watching documentaries… or perhaps you have had enough of it all and just want to keep your heads well down until things return to ‘normal’.

I watched an excellent Horizon documentary on the estimable BBC the other night which I thought summed up pretty well where we are, how we got here and how things are likely to unfold in the months ahead. I thought I would just take the opportunity to summarise the key points therein – as I saw them – the which you can choose to take or leave as you will.

The first thing to say is that there has clearly been a step change in the technology of creating and developing vaccines. We now have newer and more sophisticated means of developing and testing vaccines which have given us an advantage that we have not previously held. Not only should this give us renewed hope for an abatement of this pandemic but will arm us for other similar situations in the future. Given the huge amounts of work and brilliance that have gone into this work let us fervently hope that it is not undone by frankly ‘wacko’ conspiracy theorists persuading good folk not to welcome these developments.

The science has done well in many regards during the lock-down. We now understand many things about this virus that we did not before. It seems clear that the virus does not spread evenly, but that certain individuals infect a much greater number of others than might be expected. It would seem that this comes down to two criteria – the stage of the infection in the spreader (the which determines how virulent it is) and the particular circumstances in which that individual comes into contact with others.

The lesson to take from this is of course that the recommended precautions should be followed at all times. The chance of getting infected from any particular interaction may be lower than might be expected, but should the encounter be what has been described as a ‘super-spreading event’ then the odds will be much higher. No such chances should be taken.

Fears concerning mutations are valid, but it appears that more such occur when the virus remains in an infected individual for an extended period. Knowing this should enable – with the help of effective contact tracing – the rapid tracking down and eliminating of many new variants.

How will it all end? It seems to be the thinking that we could find ourselves in a position in which the Corona virus will need to be treated in the way that flu viruses are; that there will be a season in which routine jabs will protect us from infection. That – along with greatly improved treatments for those who do become infected – should at least enable us to evolve a ‘new normal’ that looks a fair bit more like the old one.

In short – continue to take care and stay safe!

 

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“Feminism isn’t about making women strong. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.”

G.D. Anderson

March the 8th is International Women’s Day!

The Kickass Canada Girl – though certainly by far the ‘kickass-iest’ that I have met – is certainly not the only lady to whom the epithet might be applied (with appropriate permission of course). As an irreflective member of another gender I would just like to say a heartfelt “Thank you” to The Girl and to all other women who by their indefatigable efforts help to make the world a better place.

I hope that you have a good and productive day.

March 8, 2021 | No comments

A very dear friend here in Victoria gave me for Christmas a copy of Bob Woodward’s 2020 book on Donald Trump – ‘Rage‘. This friend is building an excellent reputation for giving me thoughtful and imaginative gifts – particularly in the form of books that should be read – and this is no exception.

Now – some readers might well demur.

Trump is gone – thank heavens!” – they may say. “Why would you not just consign all thoughts thereof to the dustbin of history?“.

The reason for not so doing, of course, is that one must always be on guard and must without fail be able to recognise the enemy. That Trump was elected in the first place is scary enough. That he might be so again – or that someone in his image could so do – is an ongoing, clear and present threat.

At one point in the book Woodward recalls an English professor at his college who advised him that – to be an effective biographer – the writer must find true ‘reflectors‘ of his subject – ie: those who know the subject intimately and can provide perceptive character assessments. Woodward toys with the notion of casting Jared Kushner (Trump’s son in law) in the role, but decides that he is too much in thrall to the man himself.

What changes his mind is advice that Kushner gives to unspecified others on how to understand Trump. He points them in the direction of four texts:

  • A piece on Trump by Pulizter Prize-winning columnist from the Wall Street Journal – Peggy Noonan. Noonan writes:

We are not talking about being colorfully, craftily unpredictable, as political masters like FDR and Reagan sometimes were, but something more unfortunate – an unhinged or not fully-hinged quality that feels like a screwball tragedy.

Noonan continues: “Crazy doesn’t last. Crazy doesn’t go the distance. Crazy is an unstable element that, when let loose in a stable environment, explodes.

  • Kushner’s second text is ‘Alice in Wonderland‘ – and specifically the Cheshire Cat! Kushner paraphrased the cat:

If you don’t know where you are going, any path will get you there.

  • The third text is Chris Whipple’s book – ‘The Gatekeepers: How the White House Chiefs of Staff Define Every Presidency‘. In a section on Trump added in 2018 Whipple wrote that:

Trump ‘clearly had no idea how to govern’ in his first year in office, yet was reluctant to follow the advice of his first two chiefs of staff – Reince Priebus and John Kelly“.

  • The final text is Scott Adam’s (the creator of the Dilbert comic strips) book – ‘Win bigly: Persuasion in a World Where Facts Don’t Matter’. Adams argues that:

Trump’s misstatements of fact are not regrettable errors or ethical lapses, but part of a technique called ‘intentional wrongness persuasion’Trump ‘can invent any reality’ for most voters on most issues and ‘all you will remember is that he provided his reasons, he didn’t apologise and his opponents called him a liar like they always do’.”

Kushner adds:

Controversy elevates message… A controversy over the economy – and how good it is – only helps Trump because it reminds voters that the economy is good. A hair-splitting fact-checking debate in the media about whether the numbers were technically better decades ago or in the 1950s is irrelevant“.

Remember that these are texts that Kushner – a fervent acolyte of the then-president – volunteered by way of trying to help others to understand Trump. Woodward concludes:

When combined, Kushner’s four texts painted President Trump as crazy, aimless, stubborn and manipulative. I could hardly believe that anyone would recommend these as ways to understand their father-in-law, much less the president they believed in and served“.

We would be wise – to quote Thomas Cranmer – to: “Read, mark, learn and inwardly digest…

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Fragile

“If only these treasures were not so fragile as they are precious and beautiful.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe – The Sorrows of Young Werther

I watched the other day – on the splendid but disturbingly imperiled BBC – the latest in Alan Yentob’s arts strand – ‘Imagine’. The most timely subject of this episode was the delicate state of the arts in the UK (but by extension also throughout the western world) as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic.

The point was well made that the case for spending government monies to protect the arts at a time when the health service is all but overwhelmed and when old people are dying in care homes (as was certainly the case at the start of the pandemic) is extremely difficult to make. It is – of course – always difficult to mount any such convincing justification for the arts in times of crisis and disaster.

Except that – whereas Mazeroff’s ‘Hierarchy of Needs’ certainly depicts our physiological and safety needs as comprising the broad base of the pyramid, as one heads on upwards towards the top where love and belonging, esteem and self-actualisation are to be found, we once again rapidly discover (as a by-product of our unwanted incarceration through lock-down) that life without the arts, with all their magnificent variety and substance, loses a surprising measure of its meaning.

If that were not case enough for protection of our priceless and precious artistic assets then let us fall back on that ever reliable argument – economic benefit. In the UK alone the arts and culture sector contributes nearly £11 billion a year to the UK economy on a turnover of more than £21 billion per year – supporting in excess of 260,000 jobs. Even given that some £900 million of funding flows each year from central government into the arts and culture, the recuperation from the sector of £2.8 billion a year in tax revenue represents a very decent return.

The UK government has at least recognised the urgency of supporting the arts sector – the which was by and large the first to close in the COVID-19 lock-downs and will in all probability be the last to re-open – and has made £1.5 billion in funding available to keep companies and venues afloat.

All very reasonable as far as it goes – except that the arts is considerably more than just famous actors and musicians, well-renowned companies and grandiose venues. The majority of those who work in the arts and culture sector do so, in fact, as freelancers and as such are not covered by the government’s emergency funding arrangements. Anyone who has even tenuous connections with the arts world (as do I) will know of people whose livelihoods have all but disappeared overnight. If they are forced out of the arts for good a large chunk of the arts economy will disappear with them.

Please do spare a thought for such folk and do whatever you can to support them.

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“If you want to test your memory, try to recall what you were worrying about one year ago today.”

E. Joseph Cossman

So very much has happened in the last year; it is difficult sometimes to ‘get one’s head around it’. These photos were taken a year apart! Where would I rather be?…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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I promised that I would cover a second sporting matter in addition to the encomium regarding Scotland’s excellent  Six Nations achievement of last weekend that featured so prominently in my last post… and as I am (where possible) a man of my word – here it is…

When The Girl and I first became what is charmingly called ‘an item’ some decade and a half ago, one of the many things to which I determined to introduce her – as a means of binding our futures more closely together through mutual understanding and appreciation – was the supreme sport of cricket. Long time readers of these meanderings will be well aware of my enduring love for the game – as well as my complete mediocrity as a practitioner thereof.

I will not impose on the gentle reader at this point either an attempt to explain the game’s mysterious appeal, nor to exhaustive catalog our history with its regard. I will mention – however – the now legendary 2005 Ashes series between England and Australia… that being the year that England finally regained the Ashes after nearly two barren decades of trying. They did so – further – against one of the greatest of all Aussie sides.

Clearly this outstanding achievement – which was played out over five gripping five day test matches – was the perfect opportunity to introduce The Girl to the delights of the game. This was made all the more easy by the fact that – in those days – test cricket in the UK was given routine live coverage – for the whole of every one of those twenty five days – by the BBC. We would arrive home from work, switch on the TV and be immediately gripped by the sheer drama with which those encounters were completed. The Girl – who is a huge sports fan anyway – became a convert.

The timing was fortuitous, for the very next year the England Cricket Board (ECB) – in grevious pursuit of filthy lucre – sold it’s soul to the rebarbative Murdoch and the broadcast rights to Sky TV. Live coverage of international cricket disappeared from television over night for those unwilling to render their shilling to the appalling antipodean.

This state of affairs has remained the case ever since. Shockingly live coverage of the English national game cannot be seen on free-to-air TV by the youngsters who might some day play a part in its future.

Or at least – that was the case until this year. Finally, Sky grew tired of featuring the game and Channel 4 picked up – at the last moment – the broadcasting rights for England’s winter series in India. As things have only been put in place at the very last minute it all looks a little low-tech, but we can once again follow every ball in time-honoured fashion (even here in Canada).

Delightfully, the England team responded brilliantly to this development in the first test (which finished earlier this week) by playing a blinder and beating India in India for the first time in yonks. India are one of the very top sides and at home (this being a country that regards the game almost as a religion) they are virtually unbeatable.

Well done England!

 

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“The only way to prove that you’re a good sport is to lose”.

Ernie Banks

I changed my mind several times as to the form that this post should take.

The early 1980s are relevant both to the immediate topic and to something else on which I intend shortly to write – the current Channel 4 TV mini-series – “It’s a Sin“. It rapidly became apparent, however, that trying to link these particular two topics together would simply not work – diminishing them both.

Concerned that I have English readers and that I do not wish to offend any of them (unnecessarily!) I could have chosen to tie my main topic in with another related sporting matter – thus giving everyone something to cheer about.

In the end, however, I decided – “What the heck!“. I should leave all other topics for further posts and just go for it! To that end… English readers of a sensitive disposition may wish to look away now:

Yesterday saw the start of the 2021 Rugby Six Nations Championship. The second fixture of the day (once the French had dealt harshly with the ever eager Italians) was the Calcutta Cup fixture between England and Scotland at the home of Rugby – Twickenham.

And here is where the 1980s come into things; the last time that the Scots beat the English at Twickenham was in 1983 (the year that the US invaded Grenada, the year that Thatcher was first re-elected Prime Minister in the UK, the year that BC Place was opened in Vancouver, the year that McDonalds invented the McNugget!) – thirty eight long years ago!

Two years ago they came close in what proved an extraordinary game – the English leading at one point in the first half by 31 – 0 before the Scots scored 38 unanswered points to lead the match with five minutes to go. The English finally woke up and squeezed out a converted try to tie the game.

This time was a much more straightforward affair in some ways, though perhaps no less astonishing in terms of the way the contest played out. The Scots might consider themselves a little unfortunate to have finally broken their hoodoo and won a famous victory by a mere 11 points to 6, particularly given that the game was actually pretty one-sided in almost every respect. Scotland had 65% of the possession, 70% of the territory, made 11 clean breaks to England’s 0 and missed only 11 tackles to England’s 29.

Yes – the Scots probably should have won by a wider margin and indeed they left a number of points out on the field because their goal kicking was below par. This was, nonetheless, a famous and wonderful victory and – given that this year the Scots have three home fixtures still to come – they really ought to be able to do something a little special in the remainder of the tournament.

Well… special in terms of their recent record in any case.

Come on you Scots!

 

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