Soon after discovering the joys of Adnams beer at the tender age of 20, my pals and I pledged to make a group pilgrimage to Southwold (home of the aforementioned sacred beverage) to take the Adnams Brewery tour. We were never organised enough to get it together in those days though and another 30+ years would elapse before I eventually took the tour in 2013 - and it's well recommended if you ever find yourself in the area, but then I would say that wouldn't I? On Saturday, my 56th birthday, I fulfilled another similarly long-held ambition in the very same seaside town, when Mrs S & I climbed the iconic Southwold Lighthouse. The 113 steps to the top, spiral up around the internal wall of the structure, with just a handrail to separate you from the void. Mrs S, who isn't great with heights, had a very big wobble half way up (and a pretty much continuous wobble all the way down at the conclusion of the visit), but we made it and were rewarded with excellent views, in spite of the general miserableness of the weather on the day. (Click on any photo to enlarge)
Looking up at the climb and looking down towards the pier.
In the distance, Dunwich & Minsmere and down there............
..........the Adnams brewery. It must be time for a pint.
Here I am, blowing out the candles on my birthday cake in 1966. There'll be no candles today though, it's too much of a fire risk. But I might go mad and have a slither of cake with my afternoon coffee. Well, you're only 56 once aren't you?
I saw Teleman play in a small sweaty club the other evening, where they offered up a faultless set that blended selections from their 2014 début LP 'Breakfast' with the brand spanking new 'Brilliant Sanity'. Now there's a bunch of lads who know a good hook when they write one - and it seems that they just can't help themselves. I grabbed a printed set-list on the way out, complete with additional informative handwritten prompts - 'Rock Flashy' anyone? Here's a bit of 'Fast', some 'Pop Med' and a portion of 'Jammy'.
Some may remember that
Rozi Plain's 'Friend' was my favourite LP of 2015 - and if you're still to fall for that album's many and varied charms, please take a few minutes to check out the tunes I posted from it last year (here and here). Next week sees the release
of a companion piece to 'Friend', appropriately titled 'Friend of a Friend', which gathers together a selection of
alternative versions, session tracks and remixes from the project.
The haunting 'Marshes' is the first taster.
As a man of a certain age, I can't help but notice that many of life's niggling aches, pains and minor discomforts that once I could swiftly shake off, now have a habit of sticking around for a great deal longer, rather like an unwelcome guest at a party. Indeed, after feeling a twinge just the other morning I ruefully mumbled to myself that I was gradually falling apart. On a positive note, that one
idle thought inserted a splendid earworm into my noggin for the entire rest of the day, 'Every Day I Fall Apart'
the 1997 single by Scottish band Superstar.
Superstar were lead by Joe McAlinden and traded throughout the 1990's, during which time I managed to
accumulate a number of their releases and catch them in concert on three separate occasions. Joe slipped off my radar
following the band's split at the turn of the century, but after humming 'Every Day I Fall Apart' for about
10 hours straight, I decided to find out what he's been up to lately - and I'm very glad I did. His current project is Linden, which
has so far yielded two long players, the Edwyn Collins co-produced 'Bleached Highlights' in 2012 and last
year's 'Rest And Be Thankful'. I listened to both of the albums and they were so good that I bought them straight away.
Each record is crammed with more glorious pop moments than you can shake a stick at and come warmly recommended. This is the title track from the most recent LP. You can check out the whole thing here.
Mrs S & I get a great deal of pleasure from the birds that visit our garden - and, luckily for us, the visitors are rarely
in short supply. On one memorable afternoon last summer I actually had go out and remove the fat-feeder for a while,
as we had over 40 Starlings causing a screeching cacophony on and around it. Large numbers of Sparrows nest
under our roof tiles, performing chirruping tap-dances on the ceiling to wake us each morning - we sleep at the top of
the house, directly beneath them. We have a resident pair of Collared Doves.
Dunnocks, Blackbirds and Thrushes all stop by. So too do Robins, Great Tits
and Blue Tits. Until we had the fence erected a couple of years ago, a group of Wild Chickens occasionally
wandered in from the fields to create havoc. Once or twice we've even had the slightly surreal experience of a Pheasant inadvertently landing in the garden - it's always a toss-up who's more surprised, us or the Pheasant.
With all this activity, it feels a little unappreciative to complain, but (with the honourable exception of the Robins
and Tits) up to last year, we'd seen very few splashes of colour amongst our visitors. A friend advised us to try
filling a feeder with sunflower hearts. I gave it a go and, very gradually, they came. New visitors this year have
included Goldfinches, Greenfinches, Coal Tits, Siskins and, my favourites, a seemingly inseparable male and female
Chaffinch.
I bring the feeders in each evening, particularly during the winter months, to dissuade any Rats who might roam in off the marsh in search of food. Every morning when I take the feeders back out, various groups of birds are sitting waiting
around the fence, shuffling excitedly. They all pounce the moment I hook up the feeders and are already
stuffing their faces by the time I get back indoors to my breakfast. On a couple of mornings this week I had a camera on hand as I watched them tuck in.
On Saturday we had to make an emergency 15 mile round trip to pick up essential art supplies for Mrs S and, as she rummaged
around the shop, I thought about the many artists and creative people I've been lucky enough to know over the years. The
creative process is a thing of wonder to me and I've always tried to be a sympathetic and supportive encourager of talented
people - whilst frustratingly not having a single creative bone in my body. It could all have been so different though, as evidenced by a recently rediscovered early work. I give you, 'Self Portrait 1969', by Your Humble Blogger (Aged 9).
Since fronting Race Horses from 2005 to 2013, Meilyr Jones has played with Gruff Rhys, Euros Childs, Stealing Sheep and Cate Le Bon. Last summer Meilyr released his first
solo single 'Refugees', which was followed towards the end of the year by the fantastic 'How To Recognise A Work Of Art'.
His debut LP, '2013', finally arrived a couple of weeks ago and is a rumination on the tumultuous year that saw both his band and relationship come to an end - a very fine piece of work it is too. Autobiographical Chamber-Pop never sounded so good. If you like what you hear, check out the whole album here.
