The Stone Roses, Heaton Park, Manchester, Saturday June 30, 2012

The first Stone Roses song I remember being aware of is Love Spreads. The lead single from their long-awaited second album was released when I was 14 and still truly to fall in love with music. But that song caught my ear even at that age, when it was played on the radio amongst the reggae pop, Take That and Wet Wet Wet.

But as with almost all music I heard at that age, it slipped from my memory when the radio playlists moved on to something else.

It wasn't until 1996 that I rediscovered The Stone Roses, by which time they'd finished dragging the sorry remains of their carcass around the festival circuit, a poor imitation of the band that had once had the world at their feet.

The first Stone Roses album I owned was The Complete Stone Roses, a compilation of their output on the Silvertone label that was a birthday present from my Mither. As introductions go, it was more than enough to ignite a love for the band that has never diminished in the intervening 16 years.

Shortly afterwards, I picked up from Groucho's in Dundee a second hand copy of The Second Coming, the album that transformed the Roses from jingly-jangly psychedelic pop gods into thunderous Zeppelin-inspired rock gods. It was John Squire's cocaine album, the riffs and egos coming between a group of four childhood friends and forming chasms that eventually shattered the greatest band of their generation.

So by the time I finally picked up a copy of The Stone Roses' debut album, from Woolworths in Dundee's Wellgate, I thought I knew everything there was to know about the band. Except I didn't. The Complete Stone Roses, while containing most of the tracks from that debut, included shortened, neutered versions of that debut album's monumental bookends, I Wanna Be Adored and I Am The Resurrection. It also missed out anti-monarchy lullaby Elizabeth My Dear and the laid-back groove of Shoot You Down.

This wasn't just a record. This was THE record. The world's most perfect record. When I am Grand High Poobah of The Whole World, I will insist everyone receives a copy with their birth certificate.

Since then, I've acquired various other Roses records - "lost" debut album Garage Flower, a shouty burst of punk-inspired Goth anger that barely hints at the band the Roses would blossom into; an almost unlistenable bootleg of the legendary Spike Island live show; the Turns Into Stone compilation that shoehorns together all of the Silvertone singles that didn't appear on the debut album; an ill-advised but passable remixes album from the turn of the century; various CD singles and live EPs; and, as my salary has grown as middle age approaches, the beautiful but expensive 20th anniversary edition of the debut - heavyweight vinyl, three CDs, a DVD and a lemon-shaped USB drive in a hefty presentation box.

My love for The Stone Roses has been one of the constants in my adult life, and until recently, so had one unbending certainty - The Stone Roses would never reform. The divisions between Ian Brown and John Squire, and between Reni and John Squire, were too wide. Brown was adamant that he didn't need the quitar player, that his solo work stood on its own two feet where Squire's was empty posturing and none-too-subtle ego-stroking. It was the first question asked in any interview with a former Rose - when would they return? And the answer was always the same - we won't.

That always seemed the best solution to me - I'd rather their reputation remained unsullied by an ill-judged money-grabbing reunion. Better to remain that tight-knit group of 20-somethings from the Blackpool Live DVD than four 50-year-olds milking the cash cow.

But at the same time, I always maintained that if they ever did reform, I'd be first in the queue for tickets.

All of which is a very lengthy preamble to the weekend just finished. I've driven 770 miles in a 2003 Renault Clio, from Montrose to Manchester and back again, via Falkirk and Newcastle in both directions. Given the chaos that the Biblical rains brought to the rail network over the weekend, it still appears to have been the better option.

Our gang of three decided to eschew the support acts - we weren't in Manchester to see Hollie Cook, The Wailers, Professor Green or Beady Eye. Our Saturday was devoted to one act and one act only.

Having attempted and failed to catch a tram to Heaton Park - not even standing room on the first tram we saw heading out on the Bury line from central Manchester, and then a line of trams heading for Oldham Mumps - we took a taxi to the venue, our cabbie giving us a list of what indie clubs we should head for after the show.

We caught the end of Beady Eye, who sounded just as flat as when we saw them at the Barrowlands last year. It's an indication of how far Liam Gallagher has fallen that people were standing in the car park drinking warm beer rather than rushing to catch his set. Even a rendition of Rock'n'Roll Star dedicated to Ian Brown, and a run through of Morning Glory, failed to ignite the crowd.

But from then on, we were in countdown mode. Barring a late, but by no means unlikely, disaster or falling out, we would be seeing The Stone Roses in the flesh.

I've rarely encountered such a peaceful atmosphere at a gig that size. We didn't bother attempting the crush for beer, but bumped into someone fresh from the bar queue who sold us four bottles of Fosters for £20. But everywhere you looked, people were smiling. Even as the crowd started thickening at the front of the stage, there seemed to be none of the aggression that would normally accompany the inevitable shoving.

When the Roses did appear on stage, there was no fanfare, no fireworks, no elaborate backing track. Just four men ambling on stage, picking up their instruments and bursting into I Wanna Be Adored. And from that second onwards, I was 16 again.

It was a near-perfect setlist. The only way it could have been bettered would have been by extending the gig by adding Elephant Stone, Tightrope, Driving South and Breaking Into Heaven. All of the songs from the debut album made an appearance:

I Wanna Be Adored
Mersey Paradise
(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister
Sally Cinnamon
Where Angels Play
Shoot You Down
Bye Bye Badman
Ten Storey Love Song
Standing Here
Fools Gold
Something's Burning
Waterfall
Don't Stop
Love Spreads
Made Of Stone
This Is The One
She Bangs The Drums
Elizabeth My Dear
I Am The Resurrection

Personal highlights were a roaring take on Fools Gold, a song I've never been too fussed by, but that on this showing gave the musicians a chance to shine; Waterfall and Don't Stop - the latter including some phenomenal bass runs from Mani; and the double header of Love Spreads and Made of Stone.

I hadn't long said to one of my mates that Squire hadn't really let the guitar rip when he howled into the opening riff of Love Spreads - that was a genuine goosebump moment. The song ended with Ian Brown rapping over the fade-out:

A pen and a paper, a stereo, a tape
All this with a nice big plate of
Fish, which is my favourite dish
But without no money it’s just a wish
Now I don’t have to dream about getting paid
I dig into the books of the rhymes I've made
I hit the studio and get paid in full

Sugar spun sisters outgoing the distance
Get me, I’m seeking some assistance
High in the realms tonight,
Sky-high like a meteorite
I’m easy like the holy ghost
Ain’t no voice, it’s just a toast
High in the realms tonight,
Sky-high like a meteorite

Stone Roses all the rage
Stone Roses up on the stage
Not a pause, down the doors
Let’s have a round of applause

The first verse is lifted from Eric B & Rakim's Paid In Full, but the rest is all Brown.

It was followed by Made of Stone, my all-time favourite Stone Roses song, and the one I've always thought has the best interplay between Mani and Squire.

Reni's drumming was ferocious throughout. If you'd taken away the rest of the band, it would still have been an absorbing show just watching him drum. It frequently sounded like he was playing live hip-hop rhythms. It's good to have him back.

Those were just my personal highlights, but there wasn't a weak spot at any point during the gig. The band's song and album titles lend themselves to plenty of cliched review titles: What The World Is Waiting For, This Is The One, I Am The Resurrection, Second Coming and so on.

But Ian Brown summed it up as the band stood centre stage post-gig: "We're back".

What The World Is Waiting For

...This IS the one we're waiting for.

Although I've been saying for 15-odd years that I never want The Stone Roses to reform (and posted about it here almost five years ago), I now have tickets to see them in Manchester next June. I haven't stopped shaking with excitement since 9.35am.

Please. Pleeeeeaaaaaaaase - let it be good.

Raindrops On Roses

These are a few of my favourite things:

Walking around barefoot both indoors and outdoors.

Wearing a new pair of jeans for the first time.

Listening to someone who can really play a harmonica.

The smell of freshly tumble dried clothes.

Waking up on a sunny Saturday morning when I have no plans.

Ginger Baker's drum fills on "The White Room".

Family movies from the 1980s.

The fizz of excitement when the house lights are turned off just before a gig starts.

Scotland scoring a goal in a competitive international football match.

The 2009 Jock Awards

I'm sprawled on the couch at Dungroanin', enjoying the post-festive lull, so it seems the ideal time to host the awards ceremony no-one is waiting for, the 2009 Jock Awards.

The Stone Roses award for Album of The Year: (Nominees: The Decemberists - The Hazards of Love; Manic Street Preachers - Journal For Plague Lovers, Doves - Kingdom of Rust; The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die; Kasabian - West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum)
A few weeks back, I was discussing the year's best albums with a couple of friends. At that time, I was fairly certain it had been a pretty poor year for records. But looking back through the Magic Tune Box, it seems I'd simply forgotten that a number of pretty darn good albums were released this year. Of the five best, I'm torn between The Decemberists' folk concept album, Doves' grandiose indie guitar and The Prodigy's startling return to form. Pushed for a decision, I'd have to go with The Decemberists and their woodlands-based tale of a lady called Margaret.

The Strawberry Fields Forever award for Single of The Year: (Nominees: The Prodigy - Warrior's Dance; Kasabian - Underdog; Gossip - Heavy Cross; Lily Allen - The Fear; Florence and The Machine - You've Got The Love)
Just as The Verve's Love Is Noise soundtracked my summer in 2008, Kasabian's Underdog was my tune of choice for most of this year. Chiming guitars, heavy beats and a sound taking the Madchester sound forward again, no other track inspired me the way that the first glimpse of Kasabian's latest lunacy did.

The Rolling Stones award for Live Act of The Year: (Nominees: Take That, Neil Young, AC/DC, Them Crooked Vultures, Jane's Addiction)
If this was a bumper year for albums, it was a phenomenal year for live music. This was the year I saw Neil Young and AC/DC for the first time, as well as the disappointment of Dylan. Take That's show was head and shoulders the most complex I've ever seen, eclipsing even The Rolling Stones and U2, while AC/DC pulled off stadium rock with the ease of grizzled veterans. But the single greatest performance was Neil Young's at the Aberdeen Exhibition and Conference Centre. A "best of" set that found Mr Young in sparkling form, he was phenomenal from start to finish, climaxing with a howling take on The Beatles' A Day In The Life.

The Goodfellas Award for Movie of the Year: (Nominees: Paranormal Activity; Watchmen; Star Trek; The Boat That Rocked)
Mrs Wife and I haven't been to the cinema as often as normal this year, and we wasted two cinema trips on the disappointing Transformers 2 and Terminator: Salvation. And we still haven't seen Avatar or Sherlock Holmes. My choice for movie of the year would be Paranormal Activity, proving that you don't need a multi-million dollar budget to keep your audience on the edge of their seats.

The Knight Rider award for TV Programme of The Year: (Nominees: Fringe; True Blood; Spooks; Generation Kill; FlashForward)
Another good year for television and justification for owning a Sky+ box. Most of the really good stuff continues to come from across the Atlantic, and it was True Blood, the televised adaptation of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, that led the way. I've always been a sucker for a vampire story set in the modern age, from The Littlest Vampire through The Lost Boys and onwards. True Blood just continued the trend.

The Marilyn Monroe award for Babe of The Year: (Nominees: Salma Hayek; Nadine Coyle; Cheryle Cole; Beyonce Knowles; Michelle Keegan)
Assuming, as always, that Mrs Wife is the genuine winner of this category from now until the end of the Blogosphere, I'd happily take any of the above nominees as runner-up (or all five together with whipped cream and chocolate sauce). But for the sake of handing out the gong, it's Salma Hayek who walks away as the "winner".

The Jet Set Willy Award for Computer Game of The Year: (Nominees: Football Manager 2010; Rock Band)
The only guaranteed shoo-in of all the awards, Football Manager continues to go from strength to strength, this year with an overhaul of its match engine and the ability to create competitions - the Scottish League pyramid system created by one gifted fan is simply amazing.

The Godfather III award for Biggest Disappointment of The Year: (Nominees: The death of Michael Jackson; Bob Dylan live; Transformers 2; Arctic Monkeys' third album)
Bob Dylan was horrendous live. Of all the concerts I saw this year, that was by far the worst. But the biggest disappointment of the year was undoubtedly the passing of the King of Pop, barely weeks before Mrs Wife and I were due to see him perform in London. We still had a great holiday in the Big Smoke, but his demise left a huge gap in our year and in the music world.

The Screamadelica award for Scottish Album of The Year: (Nominee: Miyagi - Scalextro South Americana)
I'm struggling to think of any notable contributions from north of the border, so this year's award goes to Miyagi, even if a four-track EP scarcely counts as an album. An odd mix of instruments harnessed together for a fantastic ensemble sound.

Flyin' Gigs

It's bloody cold here in deepest, darkest, Jockshire. I think last week was the first I can remember when it snowed every day for a week.

The streets of Aberdeen are still covered in snow, and it's still deep in fields lining my train route into the city each morning. Curtains of frozen water cling to the cliffs between Aberdeen and Stonehaven, and the pavements in the city are, in places, dangerously slippery.

All in all, it's not ideal gig weather, but last night a few friends and I set off to Moshulu to see Late of The Pier.

Opening act Connan Mockasin (yep, both of those names are spelt correctly) were already on stage when we entered the venue. They were oddly ramshackle - a drummer in a deerstalker hat and a young guy with an unruly shock of blond hair playing an odd assortment of instruments while singing in a strangled yelp. They were better than that description makes them sound, honestly....

They were followed by Micachu and The Shapes (it was a night of bizarrely-named bands), who were, if truth be told, the most interesting band of the night. A lead singer who looked like a 14-year-old boy, but is actually a 21-year-old woman, led the three-piece band through a fast-paced set incorporating quick rhythm changes and clever harmonies. Definitely ones to watch.

And so to the headliners. I hadn't heard much of Late of The Pier's stuff prior to the gig, but I expected a noisy, fast-paced set - and I wasn't wrong.

As the gig was an over-14s event, the crowd was young and excitable, two features of the audience the band played on to rollock through an electro-punk set. The band's arrogance, while it undoutedly spurs them on while onstage, became a bit grating as the set wore on, but they were well worth the remarkably low entrance fee of £9.

All in all, a good night was had by each of us, especially given the less than ideal weather conditions outdoors.

Up In The Sky

I'm a tad weary today, as last night saw me turn back the years by visiting the Aberdeen Exhibition and Conference Centre to watch Oasis.

Oasis at the AECC was the first concert I attended (discounting festivals) back in 1997, shortly after the release of Be Here Now.

Since then, I've seen the band a further three or four times (unlike my friend Billy, who accompanied me last night, who has seen them 20 times). Since the last time I saw them, they've released two albums and seen the emergence of Liam Gallagher as a songwriting force to match his brother in quantity if not quality.

There's an atmosphere surrounding Oasis gigs that's unlike any other. For a start, it seems more Neds come out to watch the Gallagher touring circus than attend other gigs - it's not always entirely pleasant, but it's unique.

Furthermore, the number of people considerably younger than me who attended was quite surprising - we spotted countless youngsters who weren't even born when Definitely Maybe was released - and that's not an entirely pleasant thought either, given that it soundtracked my teenage years.

We opted against watching the support act, arriving in the concrete and steel shell of the AECC around fifteen minutes before the lights dipped to signal the imminent arrival of the band on stage. The taped intro of Fuckin' In The Bushes blasted out of the speakers and Billy and I launched ourselves into the crowd in a manner not befitting our combined 55 years walking the Earth.

The setlist was a curious one - Live Forever and Acquiesce, both of which would be regarded as amongst Oasis' best work, were omitted, while The Meaning of Soul and Slide Away were both given rare run-outs. The Masterplan and an acoustic guitar version of Don't Look Back In Anger were highlights, as were the furious blasts through Supersonic and Morning Glory.

The Shock of The Lightning suffered from a false start, the band stopping halfway through in an attempt to stop people being crushed against the barrier at the front of the arena (Noel: "Hey, hey, hey, hey, don't start booing. Everyone take one step back. We can't have the people down the front dying before they've bought a t-shirt.")

Champagne Supernova, as always, was a highlight, before the encore closed with the now-traditional cover of The Beatles' I Am The Walrus.

There was little banter between the band and the crowd, and at times it looked as though they were going through the motions - but how easy can it be to motivate yourself for a gig on a cold Sunday night in Aberdeen?

Nonetheless, Oasis and their singalong anthems are still a big part of British life. They won't be going anywhere anytime soon.

(I may post video footage if I can work out whether it's possible to rotate videos recorded on my phone.)

Getting Ready

I'm tired, thanks to getting home late last night after playing in the Aberdeen Oil League then watching the UEFA Cup Final.

I couldn't possibly pass on mentioning the Rangers match, disappointing though the result was.

But if anyone had told me at the start of the season that Rangers would play in a European final within the next year, I would have thought them insane.

The better team won last night, but Rangers played to their strengths, defending (fairly) solidly and looking to catch Zenit on the break.

And in the second half, just as it looked as though Rangers might take the lead through their continued pressure, Zenit scored, and the match was over.

So yes, I'm disappointed, but extremely proud of the club for having made it to Manchester in the first place. Now we can turn our attentions to the league....

The next few days are likely to be spent in a blur as I attempt to get all my shit together before flying off to China. But even before then, I'm going to be a busy boy. Tonight, Dungroanin' will be graced by Eric, my Blogfather and everyone's favourite Heterosexual Caucasian Male, and his wife Fiona, who are in these frozen northern climes for a holiday.

So we'll catch up, set the world to rights and share a drink or two, safe in the knowledge that neither of us has to work the next day.

Friday will be spent packing and preparing everything for departure to Shanghai, including delivering Mrs Wife's rabbits, Pepper and Dylan, to a rabbit boarding establishment. Yep, such a thing exists.

That will be followed by the Dirty Pretty Things concert in Dundee, which should be pretty darn good, what with DPT being a Libertines/Cooper Temple Clause indie supergroup. Which will, in turn, be followed by a night in a hotel at Glasgow airport before we jet off.

I'm not sure whether I'll be able to blog while I'm away, so I've arranged for a few kind souls to drop by and keep both my readers amused in the interim. And they're likely to be so good that my presence here will no longer be required.

Bedtime

It's 2am, and I should really be in bed.

No doubt Mrs Wife has a fun-filled day planned for me tomorrow, what with it being our last weekend at home until the end of May.

I expect that tomorrow's (today's) chores will include cutting the grass, which is a pain in the hole at the best of times but is an especially annoying pain of the whole when it clashes with watching Soccer AM or listening to Rangers v Dundee Utd on the wireless.

(As an aside, my Granny always called the radio the wireless, even though it was always plugged in. Even as a wee boy, that struck me as strange. She also referred to the black stuff on roads as Tarmacadam, which, while it is the correct term, hasn't been used by anyone else since the stuff was invented.)

It seems strange to think that in a week's time, Mrs Wife and I will be en route from Dundee to Glasgow, having just seen Dirty Pretty Things at Fat Sams, and that 24 hours later will be winging our way to Shanghai via Amsterdam.

The extent of my preparation so far has been to pile four new shirts on the spare bed, buy a travel pillow and the Lonely Planet China book and try to find out where in Shanghai I can buy cheap electrical goods and hooky DVDs.

I should really be preparing now, but I'm too busy flicking randomly and distractedly through the hundreds of channels on Sky.

And halfheartedly praying for rain so that I don't have to cut the grass.

No Capital Punishment

The sun was splitting the sky in Edinburgh this afternoon, and it was a good day to be on holiday in our nation's fair capital.

My journey was one of necessity, as I needed to collect my own and Mrs Wife's passports from the Chinese Consulate. An early start meant that I arrived as the mid morning sun was starting to warm up, and my business with the Chinese was concluded in only a few short minutes.

Which meant that the day was at my disposal. When left unattended in cities, I tend to migrate towards shops selling cheap CDs, DVDs, books and clothes. And so it proved today.

In a day of pounding the streets, I managed to pick up Anchorman (which I've never seen), Mallrats and Super Furry Animals' Phantom Power on DVD, as well as Radiohead's Com Lag and We Are Scientists' Crap Attack on CD.

The latter purchase was made less than 24 hours after seeing We Are Scientists perform a fantastic gig at Aberdeen Music Hall. Though their recently-released second album lacks the punch and catchy tunes of their debut, the WAS set was fantastic from beginning to end. Unfortunately, it was preceded by two chronically abysmal support bands and a cack-handed roadie struggling to tune the instruments, but all that was forgotten once WAS had hit their stride.

But I digress. In Edinburgh today, I also managed to pick up The Broons and Oor Wullie 1946-1956: The Golden Years and Hearts - The Diary of An Incredible Season. I'm especially looking forward to reading the latter title, as it was written by Mike Smith, a recent visitor to this far-flung outpost of the worldwide interweb and himself a fellow denizen of the blogosphere.

The drive home took place in glorious sunshine, and even the slow-moving traffic between Edinburgh and the Forth Bridge, and in Dundee, wasn't enough to dampen the spirits.

Roll on work and a chance to mock some Aberdeen fans tomorrow.

The 2007 Jock Awards

Welcome back once again to the second annual Jock Awards (like the Oscars, but without Billy Crystal presenting).

Without any further ado (or any ado at all), let's get down to the awards.

The Stone Roses award for Album of The Year: (Nominees: The Enemy - We'll Live and Die In These Towns; The Pigeon Detectives - Wait For Me; Arctic Monkeys - Favourite Worst Nightmare; Kings of Leon - Because Of The Times; The Cooper Temple Clause - Make This Your Own)
Scooping the prestigious (in no-one's eyes) Album of The Year award for the second consecutive time, the Arctic Monkeys proved they are no flash in the pan. Moving on from their classic debut, Favourite Worst Nightmare was louder, harder and grittier - Matt Helders' drumming alone is ferocious. Another faultless record from the Sheffield lads - now it's "difficult third record" time.

The Strawberry Fields Forever award for Single of The Year: (Nominees: Arctic Monkeys - Fluorescent Adolescent; The White Stripes - Icky Thump; Soulja Boy - Crank Dat (Soulja Boy); The Enemy - We'll Live and Die In These Towns; The Pigeon Detectives - I'm Not Sorry; Kings Of Leon - On Call)
A tough category to call, given that singles aren't really singles any more - they're just a means to promote an album. But for making me sit up and take notice, it would probably have to be The White Stripes' Icky Thump - one of Jack White's most finger-blistering guitar riffs shoe-horned into an odd-sounding track containing Meg White's standard mono-beat and what sound like untuned bagpipes. Sadly, the album from which the track is taken failed to live up to expectations.

The Rolling Stones award for Live Act of The Year: (Nominees: The Cooper Temple Clause; Kings of Leon; Miyagi; Go! Team; Primal Scream)
This category is also a tough one in which to select a winner, given the high standard of live performances which I've seen this year. Kings of Leon were magnificent at the start of December, whilst Go! Team and Primal Scream were both superb at this year's inaugural Connect festival. But the award must go to The Cooper Temple Clause, whose final tour I witnessed at Aberdeen's Lemon Tree, a venue which may now follow the band into the history books. It would be unthinkable to lose both in a single year. As always, the Clause gave a throat-shredding, instrument-swapping tour de force at The Lemon Tree, even without the sadly departed Didz Hammond, now a Dirty Pretty Thing.

The Goodfellas Award for Movie of the Year: (Nominees: Pirates of The Caribbean III; Transformers; The Simpsons Movie; American Gangster)
Twenty years on, and the Transformers have lost none of their magic. To see Optimus Prime, Starscream and Bumblebee in a real-life action movie was awesome. Roll on the sequels.

The Knight Rider award for TV Programme of The Year: (Nominees: Lost; Dragons' Den; Heroes)
At the end of the second series, I was starting to think that I was losing interest. But by the end of the third series of Lost, I was completely hooked all over again. They're going to get off the island - we know that much. But what happens? A special mention must also be made for Heroes, which would have been a clear winner if not pitted against Lost. Many a workplace debate has been had over the relative merits of Hiro Nakamura and Peter Petrelli.

The Marilyn Monroe award for Babe of The Year: (Nominees: Keira Knightley; Amanda Bynes; Hayden Panettiere)
Assuming that Mrs Wife has won this award from now until the end of time, we'll instead look for a runner-up. Keira's too skinny, so instead the winner is Amanda Bynes, whom I'd never heard of until I saw her in Hairspray. Yes, she plays a schoolgirl in the film (as does fellow nominee Hayden Panettiere in Heroes), but she's 21 in real life. And she's hot.

The Jet Set Willy Award for Computer Game of The Year: (Nominees: Football Manager 2008; Final Fantasy X2; Guitar Hero)
It may not be as addictive as previous versions, but Football Manager 2008 is still the single biggest drain on my free time, sleep and marriage. I WILL win the Champions League with Rangers....

The Godfather III award for Biggest Disappointment of The Year: (Nominees: The White Stripes - Icky Thump; Ian Brown live; The Cooper Temple Clause splitting; the closure of The Lemon Tree)
The White Stripes album may have been a turkey (I've decided - Jack White is a phenomenal guitar player, but a patchy songwriter at best), Ian Brown may have been in a differet time zone to the tune at his Dundee gig, and The Lemon Tree closing is a kick in nuts to all music fans in the northeast, but the biggest disappointment from my point of view was the demise of The Cooper Temple Clause. No more of their howling, roaring, electro-rock - a huge loss to the live music scene.

The Screamadelica award for Scottish Album of The Year: (Nominee: Miyagi - Lucky Face)It's been a pretty quiet year for albums of note north of the border, but the best of the lot is Miyagi's Lucky Face, released just last week at a gig in Edinburgh. They're also the only band ever to have had Groanin' Jock make a special guest appearance on guiro. Buy the record now.

Groanin' Jock on Guiro

For anyone who doubted the validity of my claim that I'd resurrected my live music career, here's the evidence - I'm the frightened looking one in the leather jacket at the back, focussing completely on making sure I don't mess up my guiro part.

2007 Comeback Show

It's been a long time coming - almost a decade in fact.

For a long time, I thought it might never happen again.

But on Friday night, I made my first appearance onstage with a band since 1998.

Much to my surprise, and that of three quarters of the band members, I was invited onstage to play percussion with Miyagi on the track Dirty Little Monkey at their album launch party at The Ark, Edinburgh, on Friday.

Despite dropping the beat on a couple of occasions, not to mention being flumoxed by the sudden changes in pace when the song hit the chorus, I don't think I did too badly. Although perhaps the band might disagree.

I'd urge you all to check out Miyagi's website, buy a copy of the debut album Lucky Face and do your best to catch them on their upcoming tour.

Photos and/or videos of my impromptu special guest appearance may appear here if and when I find out that some exist.