Thou shalt love this choon

Fucking brilliant...

- Dan Le Sac vs Scroobius Pip, "Thou Shalt Always Kill"

Recent sound waves to tickle my ossicles

Or, to use more grammatically incorrect parlance: new tunes what I been listening to:

Dobotsu Bancho, Alexanders Dark Band (DC Recordings)

Perusing Bleep.com one day (curse them and their ever-growing catalogue of innovative, eclectic independent music!) I clicked a random album cover from the "featured" section. I scanned the track-list until my gaze fell upon the song title "Space Donkeys On Crack". "I'm fucking havin' that," I thought. The brainchild of Jonathan Saul Kane (Depth Charge, Octagon Man) Alexanders Dark Band layer farty bass lines and quirky melodies over crunchy breakbeats. The end result is a whole lot of funky electronic fun, eccentric yet accessible. Anybody who enjoys their electronica with a healthy dollop of humour will get a blast from this album. And it's got a track on it called "Space Donkeys on Crack" - what more do you want?

Foley Room, Amon Tobin (Ninja Tune)

I hate Amon Tobin. I hate him because I listen to his stuff and think, "I am never going to produce anything this good. How the hell does he do that?" I know in theory how he does it. His previous albums have been produced by deconstructing lots of old jazz, funk, soul, bossanova records and rebuilding them into entirely new pieces of music. And what wondrous, beautiful music it is. For his latest album, however, he tried a new method of working: going out into the world with a bunch of microphones and recording anything that had percussive potential from factory machines to tigers, motor engines to insects. Add to that contributions from guest musicians (including Kronos Quartet) and Amon created a new palette of sounds to play with. The result is predictably (and infuriatingly) gorgeous. Walking down the street and listening to the track "The Killer's Vanilla" on my MP3 player I found myself on the verge of weeping with joy that, despite all the hate and stupidity and mediocrity in the world, there are human beings capable of producing truly beautiful music such as this. Amon Tobin's music genuinely makes me glad to be alive.

Having said that, there are a couple of tracks on the album such as "The Kitchen Sink" and "Foley Room" that feel more like exercises in percussive sound design rather than complete pieces of music and, while interesting, I can't imagine that I will return to them often. That is but a minor criticism when we are talking about an album that contains the utterly wonderful "Bloodstone", "Esther's", "The Killer's Vanilla", "Big Furry Head", "Always" and "At The End Of The Day". A bloody brilliant album.

Rediscovery Of The Month: Living Colour

I first heard of Living Colour when the Soulpower Mix of "Love Rears Its Ugly Head" found its way into the singles chart in 1990. I didn't actually realise at the time that they were a metal band, albeit a metal band flavoured with funk, soul and hip-hop. I've finally replaced my copies of Time's Up and Stain and - dagnabbit - they are class albums: excellent musicianship, intelligent lyrics laced with a pleasing black humour, Corey Glover's powerful yet soulful vocals and plenty of heavy guitar riffage (heavier than I remember, come to think of it). Basically, Living Colour rock like a muddy-funster and you can stick yer whiny emo cobblers up yer proverbial.

More work blah

Hmm, my recruitment agency specialise in supplying IT professionals, financial consultants and engineers, people who command 30K-50K per annum and beyond, people for whom it makes sense to sign up with an umbrella organisation.

What my recruitment agency don't deal in is lower-end office admin staff. They are clearly not the agency you go to fill such positions and yet that is what my employer did. Rather than tell my employer, "Um, actually, we don't really deal in that area,"£ they simply took the money and said, "No problem."

No wonder they farmed my payroll stuff out to an umbrella organisation: they simply handled me in exactly the same way as they handle the high-flying consultants on their books even though it is completely inappropriate for a £6.00 an hour admin temp.

Never mind: I've been offered another position by an agency who know what they are doing. And this position offers more money. And the daily bus ride is cheaper. And the job should be more interesting. So, fuck it: I'm outta' here.

I also found this very handy page on the BBC website about how to claim back those excessive penalty charges from evil banks. They even provide a template letter you can use that outlines all the legal precedents that support your demand for a refund. Splendid.

Bah, this whole thing is boring now. Time for a drink.

ADDENDUM: Hooray, Just heard about the new job and they want me to start on Monday. If I hadn't already bunked off work at lunchtime, I would tell the boss to stick the job up his arse and walk out triumphantly. I suppose I could go back to work just to tell him to stick the job up his arse and then walk out again. Or I could go to the pub.

UN-REVIEW: INLAND EMPIRE

I've been trying to fathom how to write a meaningful review of David Lynch's new film for over the last week since I saw it but I just don't know how. I could explain that it begins with Laura Dern playing an once popular actress whose career has settled into a rut. She secures the lead role in a movie that she hopes will rejuvenate her career but it comes to light that the movie is a remake of Polish film that was never completed because the lead actors were murdered.

That synopsis covers about the first 45 minutes of Lynch's film... except that I forgot to mention the sitcom with the rabbits who talk in stilted non-sequiturs but whose words are greeted with hysterical canned laughter. Oh, and the crying woman watching said bunny sitcom on a TV in a hotel room. But apart from that the first 45 minutes of INLAND EMPIRE kinda' makes sense.

And then after that Laura Dern goes on some kind of nightmarish journey where the real world, the fictional world of the film she is making, the Polish film upon which it is based and the true story of that film's making collide, merge, blur, overlap and loop back on themselves.

But I was expecting that so before I went into the cinema I resolved to not attempt to make sense of the narrative as it went along and simply allow INLAND EMPIRE to happen at me. And I loved it, all three hours of it. INLAND EMPIRE is a natural successor to Lost Highway and Mulholland Drive in its multiple layers of reality and fiction and Lynch's immense skill in wringing every ounce of tension and terror from the dark spaces in familiar, ordinary environments. The film is shot entirely on digital video and some critics have complained that this results in an cheap, amateurish look. Personally, I found the look of the film wonderfully disorienting. No, it doesn't have the look of traditional film stock, it is something different, something that is visually striking in its own right. The sound design, as always in Lynch's films, is tremendously atmospheric and greatly contributes to the sense of unease that pervades the film.

In conclusion I can conclude nothing. One viewing simply isn't enough to take it all in and start to process the information. As with all Lynch's films, there is no definitive interpretation of what it is and I suspect that it will take many subsequent viewings on DVD before I will even begin to formulate an opinion on what it's all about. As I watched it, I felt some subliminal intuition that INLAND EMPIRE does make some kind of sense, that it is actually about something on not just a load of random weirdness that Lynch has thrown at the screen for a laugh.

Laura Dern gives a wonderful and varied performance that is by turns timid, awkward, angry, bitter, heartbroken, compassionate, distraught and disturbed.

Many people would find this film utterly infuriating, maybe even those who have enjoyed some of Lynch's work in the past. It is therefore a difficult film to recommend. All I can say is that I am so grateful that, despite the dearth of imagination and rabid pursuit of commercial success that dominates contemporary culture, people like David Lynch are still sometimes able to get their mad ideas out there into the world. At a time when I feel that dogmatic rules dictate mundane formulas for what films and books and music and art should be, I needed something as wilfully barmy and disobedient as INLAND EMPIRE to come along.

Thank you, David.

Limited umbrella clarification

I lied... I think. I'm not a limited company after all, I am a PAYE employee of the umbrella company employed by the recruitment agency employed by the company I work for. As far as I can ascertain, this is the worst option for me in terms of tax and National Insurance contributions. Or is it? Would it make any difference if I was simply on the recruitment agency's payroll? I have no idea but I am certain of one thing: whatever advantages there are ta an umbrella company to handle my wages, those advantages benefit the recruitment agency and not me. I'm going to get some legal advice about all this.

Whatever I find out, though, I ain't paying the £50 umbrella set-up charge.

Meanwhile, I have discovered this very useful page on the BBC's website about how to claim back bank penalty bank charges for, say, exceeding your overdraft limit for one day. They even provide a template letter for you to send to the bank invoking all the legal precedents that back up your complaint. That'll be going in the post this week.

Panic over. I have some money now and I am of a mind to kick some arse. It's all good.

Lonesome no more

Self portrait from 'Breakfast Of Champions'

Kurt Vonnegut Jr.
1922—2007

REVIEW: Sunshine

I have a strange relationship with Danny Boyle films. I always feel a little underwhelmed immediately after seeing them but, in the days that follow, they stay with me and I eventually feel compelled to see them again. This happened with Trainspotting and 28 Days Later in particular. My opinion of both films grew with subsequent viewings. I believe the same will be the case with Sunshine.

Boyle directs an Alex Garland scripted tale of everyday astronauts travelling to the sun while strapped to a massive nuclear bomb. The sun is dying, y'see, and if our eight space-faring heroes can't reignite it with aforementioned bomb then all life on Earth will die. No pressure, then.

The first thing to say is that this film is gorgeous. Danny Boyle fills the screen with some truly awesome imagery. The vessel upon which our heroes make their journey, the Icarus II (no, really), is a beautifully rendered modular spacecraft hiding behind a massive umbrella-like reflective shield. But the real star of the film is the sun itself. I can't remember ever seeing the scale or power of the sun so impressively presented on the cinema screen with such deserved reverence. It is, after all, the source of all life on our planet and this film certainly does it justice. Indeed, this is one of the film's major themes. What's even more impressive is that the budget for the film was a modest $20 million - you could easily believe that it cost ten times that amount. The visual splendour of the film is complimented by brilliant sound design that makes an invaluable contribution to the sense of space and atmosphere.

The performances too, from the likes of Cillian Murphy, Michelle Yeoh and Chris Evans, are strong and believable even if the characters do feel like archetypes rather than complex human beings. Indeed, Sunshine suffers from a problematic script such as the decision to call the ship Icarus II. Even the least superstitious of scientists wouldn't call a spacecraft heading for the sun Icarus II - that's just asking for trouble, isn't it? And please note: that's Icarus II. Yes, this is the second mission to the sun called Icarus. The first mission, Icarus I, set off seven years prior to the events in this film and disappeared without trace. Didn't anyone think that maybe calling not one but two missions to the sun Icarus was perhaps tempting fate?

There are bigger problems, though. The film-makers seem to be unsure of what kind of film they are trying to make. It is clearly influenced by many sci-fi predecessors - 2001: A Space Odyssey, Solaris, Silent Running, Alien, Event Horizon - but can't settle on whether it is a philosophical rumination of the nature of humankind's relationship with the universe, a taut psychological thriller or an horror flick. The answer is that it flips from one to another and doesn't quite satisfy as any of them.

Having said all that, it is definitely worth seeing, especially in the cinema. As well as the aforementioned beauty of the ship's journey to the sun, director Boyle sustains the tension throughout brilliantly as one disaster after another afflicts the mission. There are some brilliant moments such as the spacewalk across the ship's gigantic shield where cameras inside the space helmets create a true sense of claustrophobia. It is only in the final act that he seems to loose his way and bombards you with frenetic, confusing weirdness.

I was lucky enough to see Sunshine at a special "bloggers' preview" about a month ago (thanks to Suw Charman for swinging that for me). I was quite down on the film when I came out. But, as I mentioned at the top of this review, I feel more sympathetic towards it and, now that it has a nationwide release, I want to see it again. It is, without a doubt, a flawed piece of work but it is an intelligent sci-fi film for grown-ups with some thought-provoking ideas and some truly stunning imagery. And it's a British film.

Britain delivers damning verdict on Blair's 10 years

So says The Observer newspaper this Easter Sunday morning. And how do they know how the entire British public feels about Blair's reign? Because they ran an exhaustive nationwide poll... of 2,034 people.

Hmm, right. 2,034? I see. In July 2006 the population of the United Kingdom was 60,609,153. So that means that the poll canvassed approximately 0.0034% of the nation

From the opinions of 0.0034% of the nation one can extrapolate the result across the entire nation and conclude that "Britain delivers damning verdict on Blair's 10 years"? Am I the only one who thinks that such a leap is totally absurd and and nothing more than an exercise in sensationalising an insignificant poll result into big, important news?

And this is what passes for broadsheet journalism in this country.

And he's on the floor again...

BAM! Another £60.00 in bank charges for breaching my overdraft limit by... let's check... £11.50. It's a fair cop.

Hang on, everybody - if I just... bend over a little more... and sort of... put my legs apart like this... then you can all fuck me in the arse at once.

And, once again, it all goes to ratshit

To summarise recent events, then, the combination of not getting paid when I should have been paid by my recruitment agency and being bludgeoned with a fistful of extortionate bank charges has left me utterly fucked, financially speaking.

Wait a minute, there's something I forgot to mention, and this is a doozy. I don't actually get paid by the recruitment agency. No, no, no. I submit a timesheet to them (or, at least, try to), timesheet then gets sent to an umbrella company, umbrella company raises invoice, sends invoice to recruitment agency, recruitment agency pays umbrella company, umbrella company pays me. I mentioned earlier that I have been set up as a limited company. The one detail that I have actually forgotten throughout this debacle is that I have to pay umbrella company £50.00 for setting up my payroll. Yes, that's right: I have to pay them to pay me. Er... right.

I could understand all this faffing around to set me up as a limited company if I was a freelance copywriter or consultant on £20.00 an hour but is it necessary for a lowly admin assistant on a pissing £6.00 an hour? What the fuck was I thinking? How could I have been so fucking stupid to have thought that this was a deal worth accepting? Oh yeah, I desperately needed to be earning some fucking money. Except, of course, I haven't yet been paid a fucking penny anyway so I may as well have stayed at home and waited for another position from an agency who don't piss around with umbrella companies to pay their temps.

I am so mad at myself right now. How could I have been such a dumbarse fuckwit? I pondered this all day at work today and it made me angrier and angrier, so much so that I had to leave early because I thought I would throw up. I've been fucking shafted by a bastard recruitment agency again - except that this time I let them fucking do it.

It's all gone to fucking ratshit. How did I let this happen?

Bunch of bankers

The Office Of Fair Trading announced an investigation into UK bank charges last week. This follows an informal six-month look at how much banks charge their customers on current accounts for, say, exceeding their overdraft limits.

This issue is of particular interest to me because I was recently shafted by Halifax.

During that slightly precarious period between leaving the council and securing this 12-month job contract, my cashflow was interrupted. I had a bit of money dribbling in from a couple of short-short-short-term temp assignments - three days of shifting office furniture; that was fun - but my rent was due and I simply didn't have it. So, much to my chagrin because I hate sponging, I placed a call to my emergency cash lenders, i.e. the parents. They were, of course, only too willing to help me out and promptly sent a cheque.

So, cheque from parents gets paid into account and would take three days to clear but - ach! - I make a mistake in my calculations and set up the standing order to pay out my rent one day before my parents' cheque clears.

What happens? Halifax kindly inform me that a payment I attempted to make took my account over its overdraft limit and so they were going to charge me £39.00. Except that I didn't go over my overdraft limit because the transaction failed and the money didn't actually go anywhere. Halifax didn't charge me for spending money that still had one day to clear into my account but merely for attempting to spend money that had one day to clear into my account. OK, sure, I made a mistake for trying to spend money that hadn't yet cleared but to incur a charge of £39.00? A little harsh, perhaps?

Oh, but that's not all. On the same day that I attempted to spend £400 that hadn't cleared, a monthly direct debit that I set up to donate some money to a charity for orphans went through. Halifax did cough up to cover this payment and, in doing so, I did exceed my overdraft limit. And how much do I donate to the orphans every month? £3. Yup, three... whole... English... pounds. How far over my overdraft limit did this staggering act of philanthropy take me? Oooh, about £2.46. Halifax charged me £30 for that as well.

£69.00 in total. For exceeding my overdraft limit by £2.46 (because, let's not forget, the rent transaction failed to go through). For one day. Thanks, Halifax. You can take your jolly, suited, soul-singing bank managers and "Xtra Value" and stick 'em up your arse.

"I'm not saying banks are perfect, but surely they do not deserve to be hated."
- Angela Knight, chief executive designate of the British Bankers Association (BBA)