Sir Charles Mackerras is not, as we described him in a review, page 36, September 4, "well into his 80s". He is hardly in them at all. He was 80 in November last year.
In Racism is an everyday reality etc, page 24, G2, September 4, we said that the main character in the television series Life on Mars is "a 1970s cop thrown into the modern world". It is the other way round: he is a modern cop thrown into a 1970s world.
A correction, page 34, September 2, correcting the spelling of canvas, in a report about Munch's painting The Scream, was, it turns out, academic. The painting is on cardboard.
In an article headed Britain's new foodie paradise (G2 page 20, September 1), we implied that the restaurant critic Jay Rayner believed the article's hypothesis: that Marlow is becoming the country's new gastronomic hot-spot, ahead of Ludlow. Though Rayner did say the town was "shaping up nicely" as quoted in the piece, when asked whether he thought Marlow was the new Ludlow, his initial answer was "How about 'no'." This quote was not used in the finished piece. Apologies.
Monday, September 11, 2006
All apologies
Some recent highlights from The Guardian's clarifications and corrections columns:
Sunday, September 10, 2006
A Saturday night tableau
I'm in a working men's club in Widnes at the post-wedding party of an ex-lesbian who my girlfriend met in Australia, and a quiet tattooed skinhead, who is wearing a white suit and writhing around on the floor wrestling with one of his new wife's lesbian friends, as various family members look on.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Close listening: I Got You Babe by Sonny and Cher
0.01 It's Groundhog Day! Seriously, will you ever be able to hear those opening bars without thinking of Bill Murray under tightly wrapped covers in that B&B?
0.06 Cher's droning monotone kicks in. "They say we're young and we don't know…" I don't believe Cher was ever young. Even when she was 9, she was a woman.
0.16 Sonny interjects: "Well I don't know if all that's true…" Sonny doesn't think Cher's young either.
0.26 A clarinet! How many mainstream pop songs do you know with one of those? Captain Beefheart doesn't count.
0.35 "They say our love won't pay the rent". They're right! It won't! Listen to their sound financial advice, you fools!
0.39 "Before it's earned our money's all been spent." I know it's the '60s, but that really is no way to live your life.
1.05 The strange and very hippy middle eight. "I got flowers in the Spring / I got you to wear my ring," coos Sonny foolishly.
1.18 Cher cuts in, incredibly out of tune. "And when I'm sad, you're a clown..." But she sings it without the comma, so it's like she's saying she's sad that her lover is a complete fucking clown.
1.21 She continues: "And when I get scared, you're always around." Which actually sounds terrifying. Like her boyfriend is some kind of omnipresent puppy.
1.42 "Then put your little hand in mine," suggests Sonny soppily. On the words 'hand' and 'mine', we realise just to what extent Sonny is impersonating Bob Dylan. It's shocking. Though Dylan would never write or sing such a drippy lyric.
2.01 There's this weird instrumental couple of bars, when it sounds like someone should be singing or playing a solo, but has forgotten. Possibly everyone's still shocked by Cher's out-of-tune singing, or Sonny's shameless Dylanising.
2.11 Sonny sings a quiet and subtle line - he clearly wants to do a building crescendo to the end (à la Oh Come All Ye Faithful). Cher doesn't realise that this will require the singers to start quietly. She lets rip with a ridiculously loud and harsh slug of a line.
2.17 Cher takes control, apparently stealing Sonny's bits. No more alternating lines – the woman wants all of them. Now it's like she's singing the words of love to herself. "I got you to talk to me," she continues. No reply from Sonny there.
2.28 She's still going. "I got you / I won't let go" seems to sum it up.
2.38 The song ends with the devoted pair singing that last grammatically dubious "I got you babe".
2.45 No it doesn't. It comes back. Something approaching the crescendo Sonny was clearly hoping for at 2.11 begins to take place, but it fades out even before it's come back. We're left loving it all and hating it all, but certainly wanting to hear it again. Frustrating and brilliant.
0.06 Cher's droning monotone kicks in. "They say we're young and we don't know…" I don't believe Cher was ever young. Even when she was 9, she was a woman.
0.16 Sonny interjects: "Well I don't know if all that's true…" Sonny doesn't think Cher's young either.
0.26 A clarinet! How many mainstream pop songs do you know with one of those? Captain Beefheart doesn't count.
0.35 "They say our love won't pay the rent". They're right! It won't! Listen to their sound financial advice, you fools!
0.39 "Before it's earned our money's all been spent." I know it's the '60s, but that really is no way to live your life.
1.05 The strange and very hippy middle eight. "I got flowers in the Spring / I got you to wear my ring," coos Sonny foolishly.
1.18 Cher cuts in, incredibly out of tune. "And when I'm sad, you're a clown..." But she sings it without the comma, so it's like she's saying she's sad that her lover is a complete fucking clown.
1.21 She continues: "And when I get scared, you're always around." Which actually sounds terrifying. Like her boyfriend is some kind of omnipresent puppy.
1.42 "Then put your little hand in mine," suggests Sonny soppily. On the words 'hand' and 'mine', we realise just to what extent Sonny is impersonating Bob Dylan. It's shocking. Though Dylan would never write or sing such a drippy lyric.
2.01 There's this weird instrumental couple of bars, when it sounds like someone should be singing or playing a solo, but has forgotten. Possibly everyone's still shocked by Cher's out-of-tune singing, or Sonny's shameless Dylanising.
2.11 Sonny sings a quiet and subtle line - he clearly wants to do a building crescendo to the end (à la Oh Come All Ye Faithful). Cher doesn't realise that this will require the singers to start quietly. She lets rip with a ridiculously loud and harsh slug of a line.
2.17 Cher takes control, apparently stealing Sonny's bits. No more alternating lines – the woman wants all of them. Now it's like she's singing the words of love to herself. "I got you to talk to me," she continues. No reply from Sonny there.
2.28 She's still going. "I got you / I won't let go" seems to sum it up.
2.38 The song ends with the devoted pair singing that last grammatically dubious "I got you babe".
2.45 No it doesn't. It comes back. Something approaching the crescendo Sonny was clearly hoping for at 2.11 begins to take place, but it fades out even before it's come back. We're left loving it all and hating it all, but certainly wanting to hear it again. Frustrating and brilliant.
"Life GPS"
Charlie Brooker in The Guardian today writes about how he'd like a GPS implanted in his head which, instead of giving directions, would tell him "what to do next". And to top it all, the device would speak with the voice of Jack Bauer. Read it here
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Miscellany
Is it me, or does the guy who played kitchen hand Everton in Chef bear a striking resemblance to one, or both, of the Outhere Brothers? Or did I just imagine it?
***
Saw a large vehicle this evening the size and shape of a mobile library. It was a deep purple colour and had the words "Net Navigator" painted on the side. I wanted to stop it and tell the drivers "Guys, you don't need one of those to surf the internet! You just need a laptop and a phone line!" I could just imagine the poor fools driving all the way to California just so they could access an American website.
***
Some embarrassing recent iTunes purchases:
Jesus He Knows Me - Genesis
My Sharona - The Knack
I Got You Babe - Sonny and Cher
Devil Woman - Cliff Richard
Happy Together - The Turtles
Think I'm going to have to listen to four hours of Joy Division to purge myself of this string of naffness.
***
After Blair's announcement this afternoon, Sky News had up on screen a list of 'hot political newcomers'. On the right of the screen, Jon Cruddas, on the left, Ed Balls. There's a filthy joke in there somewhere, screaming to get out.
***
After waking up this morning with the word 'liminal' in my head (don't know why), I put the music on and got the best lyric I've heard in ages. By the brilliant Super Furry Animals, from their song Hello Sunshine:
"I'm a minger
You’re a minger too.
So come on minger
I want to ming with you."
***
My review of the new album by power-pop indie-kids Silver Sun is online - have a look (spot the Back to the Future reference).
***
Saw a large vehicle this evening the size and shape of a mobile library. It was a deep purple colour and had the words "Net Navigator" painted on the side. I wanted to stop it and tell the drivers "Guys, you don't need one of those to surf the internet! You just need a laptop and a phone line!" I could just imagine the poor fools driving all the way to California just so they could access an American website.
***
Some embarrassing recent iTunes purchases:
Jesus He Knows Me - Genesis
My Sharona - The Knack
I Got You Babe - Sonny and Cher
Devil Woman - Cliff Richard
Happy Together - The Turtles
Think I'm going to have to listen to four hours of Joy Division to purge myself of this string of naffness.
***
After Blair's announcement this afternoon, Sky News had up on screen a list of 'hot political newcomers'. On the right of the screen, Jon Cruddas, on the left, Ed Balls. There's a filthy joke in there somewhere, screaming to get out.
***
After waking up this morning with the word 'liminal' in my head (don't know why), I put the music on and got the best lyric I've heard in ages. By the brilliant Super Furry Animals, from their song Hello Sunshine:
"I'm a minger
You’re a minger too.
So come on minger
I want to ming with you."
***
My review of the new album by power-pop indie-kids Silver Sun is online - have a look (spot the Back to the Future reference).
Rules for eating
From Edmund, something to read at lunchtime, about lunch. Find out how to create 'a linear future' from a bagel, and so on.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Steve Irwin RIP
Crikey, it's like Diana all over again. I've deliberately posted this two days after the death of the 'Crocodile Hunter' because I feel it's important we keep the memory of Steve Irwin alive. If we don't, the stingrays have won.
Onward crisping soldiers
A necessary truth: if you don't like salt and vinegar flavoured crisps, multipack purchases become either monotonous, or untenable.
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Saturday
Due to the paucity of posts of late, I thought I'd document a day in my life in minute detail. I had no idea it would happen like this. But that's life I guess...
(With insincere apologies to Ian McEwan.)
8.51am Wake up, go to toilet and fill empty water bottle.
9am Ponder why I’m unable to lie in any more. I used to be able to sleep for hours and hours. Get annoyed about this.
9.20am Sit up and start reading the next chapter of James Robinson’s The Gospel of Gideon Mack. At the moment this vicar – who is about to go mad after meeting Satan – is talking about long-distance running. I used to run a lot when I was 17, 18, 19. But no more.
9.40am Decide to go for run. Make necessary preparations.
9.45am Walk out the door of the flat and start stretching. Go outside and start running towards Clapham High Street. I'm running! I aim for the Common, but I'm pretty knackered by the time I get there. I run across the Common, go into the library and look through the books. I think it’s just an excuse to have a rest. I walk up the high street then hop on an empty bus which carries me back towards Stockwell.
10.30am Get back. Drink lots of Orange juice. Have shower. Get dressed. Feel quite empowered thanks to the run – like I can have a genuinely productive day. Wow!
11.05am Flick TV on. Music videos are playing on E4. I don't normally watch music videos, but The Smiths' There is a Light that Never Goes Out is playing. Lots of shots of Morrissey and Morrissey look-alikes riding bikes through Salford.
11.10am Make tea and beans on toast.
11.20am Stick on Bob Dylan DVD. Watch it eating beans on toast. Things Have Changed video is fab. It nicely intercuts shots of Dylan singing with scenes from the Wonderboys film, making it look like he's turning into Michael Douglas's character and back. It nicely sums up the role of the artist - both living a life but also outside of life commenting on it. Another great thing about the video: Bob tries to 'do facial expressions'.
11.31am Phone rings. A foreign lady says "Good morning." Pause while I wait for the sell. Realise I'm expected to say 'good morning' before this can proceed. "Good morning," I say. She's trying to get hold of someone whose name I will never be able to spell. Something like, "Mr Dhordonashyenaleandethon". Wrong number, I say and hang up.
11.33am Phone rings again. The woman is crazy! "Who is this? This is the number they give me to ring." We try to work things out, but her poor grasp of English means we don’t really get anywhere. I start to get annoyed that she doesn’t seem to believe I’m not harbouring this Dhordonashyenaleandethon character. "I'm afraid you're going to have to sort this out for yourself," I say. She doesn’t understand. "Goodbye," I say emphatically, and hang up.
11.38am Phone rings again. I wonder whether to answer it. I decide not to.
11.39am I give in and answer it. "I want to speak to Tony."
"There's no Tony here!" I say.
"Dhoni, dhoni."
"No! Wrong number!"
"Okay," she says in a resigned voice.
11.51am Watch more music videos. Radiohead’s Just. Radiohead playing guitars! Those were the days. Then Work It by Missy Elliot - "It's yr fribaderba yep yep".
12.05pm Hear the key in the door. Jamie is back from a night in Glasgow. Work flew him up there to go drinking with XFM people. No, I don't know how he does it either.
12.07pm Try to finish off this review I’m writing. It’s 400 words about the new album by an obscure ambient electronica duo called Infantjoy. Not particularly easy to write.
1.15pm Dan arrives at the flat – we're going to see Onto the Streets, an exhibition of contemporary London street photography in Brixton. Apparently there's a house party later in Marylebone, which I have inexplicably not been invited to.
1.30pm Me, Jamie and Dan leave the house to go to Photofusion ("London's largest independent photography resource centre"). The exhibition is great - particularly the pictures by Nick Turpin and Matt Stuart - but small. We're only there for about 10 minutes. What now? I unwisely suggest the pub.
2.20pm We go to Living and get some beers in. No one has change, so we have to do rounds. Jollity ensues. For three hours.
5.25pm Get to Circle bar to watch England v Andorra. We meet Badger who's annoyed because we're late. He tells us about a recent holiday where missed a flight and had to spend 15 hours at the airport. To survive, he got wrecked on vodka and because of a lack of space, ended up trying to sleep on an air hockey table, loading it up with pound coins because he thought it would be more comfortable with air blowing out the holes. Badger is in the anecdotal zone. Later, Dan to Badger: "So you're onstage in Moulin Rouge getting off with a girl? Shut up! Shut up!"
6.35pm England are winning 5-0. I leave Circle bar and get the tube to Charing Cross. Wow, I'm quite drunk. That's what happens when you drink on an empty stomach, apparently. I'll never learn.
7.05pm Get to Fire and Stone trendy pizza restaurant – we're celebrating Macca's last day in London (he's moving to Bristol). Macca knows I'm pished, so introduces me to people quickly and ushers me away from them so I don't say anything that'll offend them or embarrass him. The restaurant serves pizzas all named after different places in the world. I order a Peking. Service is slow. Spend most of the time talking to someone called Julia about myself. Poor girl.
10.15pm We all split the bill. Ian is livid. "Twenty-three quid for a pizza and a glass of wine?" he rages. I knew this would happen. That's why I had a starter.
10.30pm We walk to Soho and go to a barclub called Lupos. The promised lashings of Bon Jovi are not forthcoming. But the shots of sambuca are. Now I'm really drunk. I tell Macca's brother's girlfriend that I own the single I Like to Move It Move It by Real 2 Real featuring the Mad Stuntman on cassette. She is well impressed. The music begins to get cheesier.
12.58am The DJ plays Johnny B Goode. I phone Dan and yell down the phone "Chuck? Chuck! This is Marvin! Your cousin? Marvin Berry? You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well listen to this!"
1am Most of the group have left, and it’s all gone a bit coupley. Me and Hugh Dennis lookalike James stand at the bar smoking Lucky Strikes. I leave, hoping to head up to Marylebone for a house party. Phone Dan, but he says the party's over. Doh.
1.02am Start drunken dialling while walking down Oxford Street. Phone Sarah, Kearns, Sharma, Birdy and Jamie. None pick up.
1.12am Birdy phones back from a noisy club and yells, "Will! I’m in Po Na Na! In Brighton! Will! I can't hear you! Goodbye!"
1.40am Text from Jamie. "We're back at the flat, have booze & poppers. Expect mess."
2am I get home. I stagger into the kitchen and see Jamie and Eddie and two girls I don't know. Jack Daniels is being drunk and poppers sniffed. I talk shit for about an hour, and lurch around.
3.15am I've sobered up a bit now, though all is relative. Go into the lounge and play the guitar while Run Lola Run plays on the TV. As I watch the flame-haired German running through city streets, I realise that I was doing the same thing 18 hours earlier.
4.02am I say my goodnights to the kitchen revellers, who're trying to work out how to get home. I go to bed.
(With insincere apologies to Ian McEwan.)
8.51am Wake up, go to toilet and fill empty water bottle.
9am Ponder why I’m unable to lie in any more. I used to be able to sleep for hours and hours. Get annoyed about this.
9.20am Sit up and start reading the next chapter of James Robinson’s The Gospel of Gideon Mack. At the moment this vicar – who is about to go mad after meeting Satan – is talking about long-distance running. I used to run a lot when I was 17, 18, 19. But no more.
9.40am Decide to go for run. Make necessary preparations.
9.45am Walk out the door of the flat and start stretching. Go outside and start running towards Clapham High Street. I'm running! I aim for the Common, but I'm pretty knackered by the time I get there. I run across the Common, go into the library and look through the books. I think it’s just an excuse to have a rest. I walk up the high street then hop on an empty bus which carries me back towards Stockwell.
10.30am Get back. Drink lots of Orange juice. Have shower. Get dressed. Feel quite empowered thanks to the run – like I can have a genuinely productive day. Wow!
11.05am Flick TV on. Music videos are playing on E4. I don't normally watch music videos, but The Smiths' There is a Light that Never Goes Out is playing. Lots of shots of Morrissey and Morrissey look-alikes riding bikes through Salford.
11.10am Make tea and beans on toast.
11.20am Stick on Bob Dylan DVD. Watch it eating beans on toast. Things Have Changed video is fab. It nicely intercuts shots of Dylan singing with scenes from the Wonderboys film, making it look like he's turning into Michael Douglas's character and back. It nicely sums up the role of the artist - both living a life but also outside of life commenting on it. Another great thing about the video: Bob tries to 'do facial expressions'.
11.31am Phone rings. A foreign lady says "Good morning." Pause while I wait for the sell. Realise I'm expected to say 'good morning' before this can proceed. "Good morning," I say. She's trying to get hold of someone whose name I will never be able to spell. Something like, "Mr Dhordonashyenaleandethon". Wrong number, I say and hang up.
11.33am Phone rings again. The woman is crazy! "Who is this? This is the number they give me to ring." We try to work things out, but her poor grasp of English means we don’t really get anywhere. I start to get annoyed that she doesn’t seem to believe I’m not harbouring this Dhordonashyenaleandethon character. "I'm afraid you're going to have to sort this out for yourself," I say. She doesn’t understand. "Goodbye," I say emphatically, and hang up.
11.38am Phone rings again. I wonder whether to answer it. I decide not to.
11.39am I give in and answer it. "I want to speak to Tony."
"There's no Tony here!" I say.
"Dhoni, dhoni."
"No! Wrong number!"
"Okay," she says in a resigned voice.
11.51am Watch more music videos. Radiohead’s Just. Radiohead playing guitars! Those were the days. Then Work It by Missy Elliot - "It's yr fribaderba yep yep".
12.05pm Hear the key in the door. Jamie is back from a night in Glasgow. Work flew him up there to go drinking with XFM people. No, I don't know how he does it either.
12.07pm Try to finish off this review I’m writing. It’s 400 words about the new album by an obscure ambient electronica duo called Infantjoy. Not particularly easy to write.
1.15pm Dan arrives at the flat – we're going to see Onto the Streets, an exhibition of contemporary London street photography in Brixton. Apparently there's a house party later in Marylebone, which I have inexplicably not been invited to.
1.30pm Me, Jamie and Dan leave the house to go to Photofusion ("London's largest independent photography resource centre"). The exhibition is great - particularly the pictures by Nick Turpin and Matt Stuart - but small. We're only there for about 10 minutes. What now? I unwisely suggest the pub.
2.20pm We go to Living and get some beers in. No one has change, so we have to do rounds. Jollity ensues. For three hours.
5.25pm Get to Circle bar to watch England v Andorra. We meet Badger who's annoyed because we're late. He tells us about a recent holiday where missed a flight and had to spend 15 hours at the airport. To survive, he got wrecked on vodka and because of a lack of space, ended up trying to sleep on an air hockey table, loading it up with pound coins because he thought it would be more comfortable with air blowing out the holes. Badger is in the anecdotal zone. Later, Dan to Badger: "So you're onstage in Moulin Rouge getting off with a girl? Shut up! Shut up!"
6.35pm England are winning 5-0. I leave Circle bar and get the tube to Charing Cross. Wow, I'm quite drunk. That's what happens when you drink on an empty stomach, apparently. I'll never learn.
7.05pm Get to Fire and Stone trendy pizza restaurant – we're celebrating Macca's last day in London (he's moving to Bristol). Macca knows I'm pished, so introduces me to people quickly and ushers me away from them so I don't say anything that'll offend them or embarrass him. The restaurant serves pizzas all named after different places in the world. I order a Peking. Service is slow. Spend most of the time talking to someone called Julia about myself. Poor girl.
10.15pm We all split the bill. Ian is livid. "Twenty-three quid for a pizza and a glass of wine?" he rages. I knew this would happen. That's why I had a starter.
10.30pm We walk to Soho and go to a barclub called Lupos. The promised lashings of Bon Jovi are not forthcoming. But the shots of sambuca are. Now I'm really drunk. I tell Macca's brother's girlfriend that I own the single I Like to Move It Move It by Real 2 Real featuring the Mad Stuntman on cassette. She is well impressed. The music begins to get cheesier.
12.58am The DJ plays Johnny B Goode. I phone Dan and yell down the phone "Chuck? Chuck! This is Marvin! Your cousin? Marvin Berry? You know that new sound you’re looking for? Well listen to this!"
1am Most of the group have left, and it’s all gone a bit coupley. Me and Hugh Dennis lookalike James stand at the bar smoking Lucky Strikes. I leave, hoping to head up to Marylebone for a house party. Phone Dan, but he says the party's over. Doh.
1.02am Start drunken dialling while walking down Oxford Street. Phone Sarah, Kearns, Sharma, Birdy and Jamie. None pick up.
1.12am Birdy phones back from a noisy club and yells, "Will! I’m in Po Na Na! In Brighton! Will! I can't hear you! Goodbye!"
1.40am Text from Jamie. "We're back at the flat, have booze & poppers. Expect mess."
2am I get home. I stagger into the kitchen and see Jamie and Eddie and two girls I don't know. Jack Daniels is being drunk and poppers sniffed. I talk shit for about an hour, and lurch around.
3.15am I've sobered up a bit now, though all is relative. Go into the lounge and play the guitar while Run Lola Run plays on the TV. As I watch the flame-haired German running through city streets, I realise that I was doing the same thing 18 hours earlier.
4.02am I say my goodnights to the kitchen revellers, who're trying to work out how to get home. I go to bed.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
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