Voyage to the End of the Road

Had a lovely time at the End of the Road festival in Dorset at the weekend. Cider, cigs and silliness, plus music in the form of The Young Republic (fantastically raucous cover of Dylan's 'Isis', did THREE sets), Laura Marling (overcame the Big Top's rubbish sound and only being, what, five years old to play a storming set, if you're allowed to call folk "storming", although I guess the heavens had just opened so it sort of works), Jeffrey Lewis (I was standing in a puddle in a ditch behind a very tall man, but still bought his album as soon as I got home), Kimya Dawson (so cutesy, she's capable of making very cute bunny wabbits look, um, very uncute), The Wave Pictures (really fantastic and, wow, David Tattersall's guitar-playing is as clever and inventive as his lyrics, which is to say very clever and inventive indeed), Bon Iver (made me like the album, which I was previously a bit iffy about, so tres Bon, hyuk hyuk), Mercury Rev (epic, camp, hard to understand when you've just swallowed a gallon of cider), Devon Sproule (not quite as interesting as her name would suggest), Conor Oberst and the Mystic Valley Band (my feelings about this are to complicated to be explained in parentheses, but I both loved and hated it), Noah and the Whale (the sun was out, they're in the charts, it was fun), A Hawk and A Hacksaw (only caught a couple of songs, but suitably confusing), Richard Hawley (his usual mesmerising self, and started his set, brilliantly, with the line, "Okay, let's ballad."), Calexico (surprisingly danceable Sunday night headline action), and, finally, Zombie Zombie (seemed to play just one song lasting 45 minutes, but with much pizzazz and yelping).

But that's just me. Luke, who fed us some Jagermeister when we were flagging, has penned a nice write-up here.

Visually, this:

Tonight on Virgin1: I Want To Work For Diddy

I Want To Work For Diddy? Er, no, you really don't. Rapper turned business fatcat Sean Combs is looking for a PA for his company Bad Boy Entertainment, you see, and unfortunately the ability to type at 50 wpm won't cut it. Read more...

Lessons learned from... Man on Wire

Tightrope walking gets you chicks.

Tonight on Channel 4: When Women Rule The World

Herland, Charlotte Perkins Gilman's classic feminist novel of 1915, imagined an idyllic country ruled over by women, in which trouble and strife were non-existent, with an asexual version of womankind reproducing without the need of men and living together in peace and happiness. Right on! CPG would undoubtedly be delighted to hear that the dream has come to Channel 4 – in the form of new reality show When Women Rule The World. Read more...

"Dr King's dream is now a reality"

Portrayal Of Obama As Elitist Hailed As
Step Forward For African Americans

Last night on ITV1: Lost in Austen

I've always quite liked Jemima Rooper. Anyone who decides that their next career move after playing George in The Famous Five should be to portray a smack-addicted child prostitute (in gruelling Melvin Burgess adaptation Junk) is alright in my book. And frankly my Sunday mornings still feel a bit empty without As If. Read more...

The X Figures

If the last series of The Apprentice was remarkable for repeatedly using the mathematically impossible phrase "110 percent", the current run of The X Factor is outdoing its rival reality show by a factor of about, um, 150 percent. Saturday's edition gave us:

Louis, to auditionee Laura White: "One million percent yes."
Cheryl: "Two million percent yes."
Simon: "One billion percent yes."

While we're on the subject, does anyone else find Simon Cowell's new habit of cooing, "Love you" to successful contestants as they leave the room a teensy bit disturbing?

Anyway, my favourites so far:

Overheard (in my head)

"The Blind Boys of Alabama, yeah, they're really good at what they do. They're not so good at the things they don't do, like cover versions of Bloc Party songs, which is probably why they don't do them."

Taking the Michael

I'd forgotten what a good magazine Empire is. There's a good little interview with Michael "Mr Blonde" Madsen in this month's issue, this bit a particular highlight:

Who's the best James Bond?
Sean Connery, of course. I met Lazenby once. It was really bizarre. I was in an airport on my way to do Die Another Day and this old guy walks up and goes, "Hey Michael, how are you doing?" Shakes my hand. "Love your work!" I'm like, "Thanks very much." He just stood there staring at me. I felt very embarrassed because I thought, "This guy knows me and I don't know him." Then, five seconds later, it was like, "Holy shit! You're George Lazenby!" And he was like, "YES, I AM!" I said, "Wow! I'm on the way to do a Bond film right now!" He goes, "Put a word in for me, wouldja? I think I should be a Bond villain - don't you think I'd be a great Bond villain?" I said, "I'll mention that to Barbara [Broccoli]."

Did you?
No.

Düning up

Herman Düne will doubtless never escape the breezy brilliance of 'I Wish That I Could See You Soon' – but I did enjoy this verse their forthcoming album, 'Next Year in Zion':

And then we were in Stockholm
And it was beautiful in July,
And the day after, this famous Swedish director Ingmar Bergman died.
All the national papers had some special issues,
with beautiful pictures and interesting interviews.
I figured it was unlikely that they would gather all this stuff overnight
They must have needed much more time than this to write.
And it felt rancid.
And you said, "David,
David, don't you know about obituaries?
They keep them at hand for the death of celebrities."
And I said, "I will never get used to how twisted news can be."
Someone knows better than me.
Someone knows better than me.

(from 'Someone Knows Better Than Me')