It’s Only Rock n Roll

Artwork by Will McConnell.

Ian: I was so stumped this week I seriously considered using the Dave Channel technique…

Readers: Why Ian, whatever do you mean?

Ian: I mean rather than coming up with something new, just doing a re-run!

Readers: (laughter and applause).

Man I’m good…

I had to do some serious thinking about this piece, so I went to a coffee shop and sat, looking very serious, pondering many things about life, love, art and philosophy. After four cups of coffee, though, the only thing I had managed to create was a full bladder, so after a piss that could have bored a hole in a fence I gave up and went to the movies. Inspiration, I decided, would have to wait. Sometimes, though, inspiration comes from the strangest of sources, and this time it came from Tom Cruise’s mighty grin. I went to see Knight And Day, as you may have guessed. Not because I wanted to, but because I have seen the trailer every time I’ve been to the cinema for the past four months and by now, not seeing the film seemed like an impossibility. This might be the most cunning marketing technique ever conceived. Anyway, I came away from the film thinking about Tom Cruise’s big, Hollywood-gnasher filled smile, and how so many people just can’t stand it, or him. He’s like Noel Edmonds in many ways…

[Editor's Note: WHAT?]

…with his mane of impossible hair and that certain je ne sais quoi that just makes people want to throttle him. Well, I don’t mind Tom Cruise and even though it’s total, utter nonsense, I didn’t mind Knight And Day either. It has almost no redeeming qualities whatsoever, except for being rather good fun, and in my humble opinion, sometimes that is enough in this miserable world of ours. I can almost hear you asking, where am I going with this?

[Editor's Note: Actually that's me, telepathically insisting that you get to the point.]

Well, for some reason my mind made a connection between my enjoyment of these shallow blockbuster type movies, and a question someone asked me recently: ‘What are the most embarrassing albums in your CD collection?’ And there you have it – inspiration for this article. But far from apologising for my occasionally questionable taste in music, I am here to proclaim my love for some bands/artists that so many of you music snobs just can’t stand. Will is going to fucking fire me for this.

Nickelback

‘It’s hard to steer when you’re breathing in my ear

But I got both hands on the wheel while you got both hands on my gears

By now, no doubt that we were heading south

I guess nobody ever taught her not to speak with a full mouth’

I don’t want to spend too long on Nickelback because, frankly, I fucking hate them most of the time. I can’t bring myself to join the ranks of the Nickelback haters though, because sometimes I just can’t deny a good rock n roll song. It’s a difficult issue to reconcile because on one hand I can agree that Nickelback are, in fact, balls. On the other hand, songs like ‘Animals’ and ‘Burn It To The Ground’ are fucking kick ass rock songs. And since I care more about how a band sounds than how they look, or act, I have to admit it: sometimes I like Nickelback. And I’m sorry, but I won’t apologise for it.

Exhibit A: Nickelback – Burn It To The Ground

Kid Rock

‘I’m an American Bad Ass

Watch me kick

You can roll with Rock

Or you can suck my dick

I’m a porno flick, I’m like amazing grace

I’m gonna fuck some hoes after I rock this place’

Kid Rock is kinda like Mickey Rourke. Either you think he’s one of the most awesome people walking the planet, or you think he’s a complete douche. The problem is people just don’t seem to get it. Kid Rock loves hip hop but shit, he knows he can’t rap like Jay-Z. He loves country music, but he knows he’ll never be George Jones. He likes rock n roll, and blues and soul and all those things, and knows he’ll never master any of them. He’s not trying. He’s just Kid Rock, and if you don’t like him, fuck you. He likes money and bitches and fur coats and getting drunk, and if you don’t like it? Fuck you again. Say what you want about him, but the Kid is a real fucking rock star.

Exhibit B: Kid Rock – So Hott.

Bon Jovi

‘If the love that I’ve got for you’s gone

If the river I’ve cried ain’t that long

Then I’m wrong

Yeah I’m wrong

This ain’t a love song’

It seems that it is only acceptable to admit to liking Bon Jovi if you are a thirty-something female with a broken heart and all of the Twilight books. I personally think that men are threatened by Jon Bon Jovi because he is every woman’s dream: a total fucking hunk, in touch with his feelings with a great voice and even better hair. Me? I’m so far down the food chain I feel threatened by Kenneth Williams when I watch a Carry On film, so this feeling is fairly redundant to me. The point is, if you take music too seriously to rock out to Bon Jovi that’s cool with me. But I say this with utmost sincerity – without those rock n roll ballads that send most people scrambling for a sick bag, my wee world just wouldn’t be as much fun. And I will love them, aallwwwwaaaaaayyyyysss!

Exhibit C: Bon Jovi – Always

Garth Brooks

‘Operator won’t you put me on through

I gotta send my love down to Baton Rouge

Hurry up won’t you put her on the line

I gotta talk to the girl just one more time’

You think I’m taking the piss now, right? Surely not. Surely this is a sin too far. Ladies and gentlemen, I do not jest. I like Garth Brooks. I understand why people don’t, believe me. The stars n stripes shirt, the sissy little microphone headset, the penchant for flying around the stage as if he was livin’ on a prayer… I get it. But I don’t give a shit. If I tried to pretend I didn’t like him I wouldn’t just be lying to you, I’d be lying to myself. I’d be denying a part of my own soul, damn it! I’m a major country music fan, and of course Garth ain’t got shit on Waylon and Willie, or Johnny, Hank or Merle, but his special brand of all-American soppishness…

[Editor's Note: 'soppishness' is not a word, but it works so well here I’m going to leave it.]

…fills my lonesome heart with joy and makes my two left feet line-dance uncontrollably. God bless old Garth Brooks.

Exhibit D: [Video link deleted by Editor for 'unacceptable levels of soppishness']

Neil Diamond

‘Me and you are subject to

The blues now and then

But when you take the blues

And make a song

You sing ‘em out again

You sing ‘em out again’

Until now I have been a little defensive about my taste, but I’m not budging on this one. Neil Diamond is one of the greatest singer-songwriters of all time, and if you disagree you can fuck off. I pity you unenlightened fools who look upon his sequinned jackets and awesome hair with disdain, for you will never know what you are missing. Namely, some of the most rousing and powerful pop music ever recorded. I can’t even put my love for Neil Diamond into words, because he already has monopoly on verbal expressions of love, and I can’t play piano or guitar.

Exhibit E: Neil Diamond – I Am, I Said

Please use the comments section to admit your unguilty pleasures, or just to cruelly mock me. It won’t faze me – I’ll be playing air-piano and belting out my best version of ‘Hello Again’…

posted by Ian Shearer / 1 Comment

Vanwidth 2010: Glasgowbury

Each year, on a quiet hill, in the middle of a quiet valley, near a not so quiet town, a man named Paddy Glasgow invites some friends over for the biggest celebration of Northern Irish musical talent of the year. This event is called Glasgowbury.

We filmed up there last year, and this year we’re back with our pick of our favourite bands from the festival, all from the back of the Bandwidth Van.

Watch out for more from Bandwidth at Northern Ireland’s festivals this summer.

The Q

[download for ipod]

Listen to “The Q – Magpie”

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Team Fresh

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Listen to “Team Fresh – Rhythm Tradition”

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Furlo

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Listen to “Furlo – Your Entire Glows”

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Here Comes The Landed Gentry

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Listen to “Here Comes The Landed Gentry – Evil Woman/Leadbelly”

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Camera/Edit: Will McConnell
Sound: Sean Duncan
Filmed at Eagles Rock in Draperstown, July 2010

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A Hidden Agenda

Johnny called me at work to ask if I was going to the Dirty DC gig in the Empire last week.  I told him of course fucking of course, I was going.  He then told me that my usual shtick about getting shitty drunk and rocking out is getting old, and I should at least try and make these things more relevant to the rest of the Bandwidth site.  I told him no problem – all I would need is a backstage press pass and an exclusive interview with the singer from Ajenda and by God I’d write the best piece of local music journalism since whatever Will did last.  He said he’d see what he could do, and put the phone down.  Content that my ingenious and devious plan was in action, I laughed my best ’haw, haw, haw’ sort of evil laugh, and went back to the dishes, since my boss was due back soon.
Before the end of my shift Johnny called back and okayed my idea. He had a date lined up for me, but told me if I wanted to do an interview I’d have to line it up myself.  I almost shat myself with excitement.
‘Hey boss lady,’ I shouted across the shop.
‘Yes Ian?’
‘You can stick your job,’ I said, ’I’m onto a piece that’s gonna break me into the big time!’  I threw my apron at her and stormed out, throwing up the horns at the queue of gob-smacked customers.  Unfortunately my badass exit was spoiled slightly when I had to duck back in again to get my Neil Diamond CD.

The night of the gig I pulled on my dancing boots, had a few crafty slugs of Jack and headed off into town.  When I got to The Empire I realised I had forgotten the list of questions I had prepared for the interview, so I ordered up a shot and a brew and tried to remember what they were.  Looking at them now I realise they wouldn’t have been much help anyway.  In an obvious drunken scrawl it reads COMPLIMENT HER (underlined so heavily in red that I actually scored through the paper), EXAGGERATE POSITION AT BANDWIDTH, and DON’T GET TOO DRUNK.  It then says something about hair, that even I can’t really make out.  My only guess is that it was a memo to myself to get a haircut.  Anyway as tends to happen, one shot and a brew became two, and then three, before I went upstairs to the music hall to get a good seat.  Somehow I always arrive at these things either too late to even get near the bar, or so early I have to sit for hours staring at an empty stage.  This night I was early and, unfortunately, that meant more drinking.  I seemed to be drinking alone for a long time before the hall really filled up, and with the support act way overdue I was itching to do some rocking.  I was already head banging half-assedly in my chair to Crazy Nights by Kiss and sneaking glances at a fucking knockout who was… well… propped up on the bar ordering a drink.  Then she caught me looking and gave me a puzzled look.  Bugger.  She got her beer and started walking towards me.  I almost shat myself with fear.  I necked the whiskey and before she could say a word blurted out,
‘Sorry I wasn’t staring at you.  It was the guy behind you.  Looked like he had something… growing out of his head.  It was just his hair.  Which technically is growing out of his head, I suppose, but what I mean was I wasn’t actually looking at your tits.  You, I mean.  Not that your tits aren’t worth looking at.  Just…’
And luckily she cut me off, ‘It’s okay, I don’t wear this top so people will notice my shoes.’  I was speechless, so I took a long pull at my beer.  She didn’t go away.  ‘And since I’m supposed to be here with you, I think it’s okay for you to check out my tits.’  No.  Fucking.  Way.
‘Johnny set you up with me?’ I asked.
‘Yep.’
‘I’m going to kiss that man.  Right on the mouth.’  That made her laugh, and when she giggled, they jiggled, and I almost wept.

When the band finally came on it wasn’t Ajenda at all, but Dirty DC themselves.  I can only guess that something came up, because there was no explanation as to why they didn’t play.  That’s not going to stop me mentioning them, though, because honestly I was as excited to see them as I was to see Dirty DC.  I first saw Ajenda last year at, incidentally, a Dirty DC gig in The Empire.  Since then I’ve been trying to make it to one of their own shows, but something always got in the way.  I really don’t think I have ever been as knocked out by a local band as I was by Ajenda.  Their sound is right up my street – hooky, guitar-driven rock with, crucially, dynamite vocals.  I like a fairly broad range of music but I will always have a soft spot for anything that makes me bop my head and involuntarily form a fist with my right hand.  Shit, I was at an AC/DC tribute gig, this much should be clear.  I was fucking disappointed that I didn’t get to see them again, but I’ll make it to a show some day.  Until then I have their EP, which is excellent, and which you can listen to on their MySpace page.  You can do that right after you finish reading this.  As for Dirty DC, well the best advertisement for them would have been a photo of me after the gig.  But since nobody should ever have to look at a photo of me – especially in that state – I’ll settle for letting you know I was drunk, sweaty, deaf and generally loving life.  As faithful as the band are to AC/DC’s sound, it’s really the energy of the original band that they mimic so well.  It’s no mean feat to match Angus Young for sheer balls out, blistering rocking, but this guy does, and does it well.  And a bunch of dudes having that much fun playing unashamedly simple, badass rock n roll is a joy to behold.  Since they’ve been here two years in a row I’m guessing Dirty DC should be a regular fixture at The Empire.  Next time they’re here, don’t waste your Saturday night in some godforsaken nightclub.  Go and have your balls rocked off.

It was a breath of fresh air, not having to steal covert glances at the chick’s cleavage.

[Editor’s Note: You don’t even know her name, do you?]

[Ian: Don’t interrupt me man, I’m wrapping this shit up.]

The band appeared to take full advantage of her generosity and spent a good amount of time staring themselves.  Angus even gave me a sly wink, acknowledging that he was impressed by my impeccable taste in women.  At the end of the gig the singer kissed her hand and the bassist gave her a pick, which delighted her.  When we parted ways she said we should meet up again some time, but in my drunken, breast-fixated state I didn’t even realise I didn’t have a name or a number.  I’m still waiting on Johnny to get back to me with her contact details.

[Johnny: No way.  Take a look at those rules you wrote for yourself - see what you did wrong.]

Damn it, you’re right.  I still need a haircut.

posted by Ian Shearer / 0 Comments

Top Ten Scene Stealers

A bit late, I was in a field for a while there.

10. Jack Black – High Fidelity

Every so often, an actor is said to have been born to play a certain role. For a Mr. J Black of Hollywood (presumably, my depth of research is invariably linked to how bothered I am on the day) this role was Barry, the air guitar wielding prat from High Fidelity. This role was made for Black so much he inexorably portrayed it in everyone of his films to date. Ho ho, such wit. When I watch High Fidelity I romanticize the notion and believe being friends with Barry would be fun. The truth is it would probably be tiresome, as I imagine a friendship with Black would be. Again with the wit…

9. Steve Carrell – Anchorman

Quoted by everyone, everywhere. Even the Queen dropped one of Brick’s lines in her annual Christmas speech: “I am sure that we have all been affected by events in Afghanistan and saddened by the casualties suffered by our forces serving there. Our thoughts go out to their relations and friends who have shown immense dignity in the face of great personal loss. I ate a big red candle!”. Every character in the film has great lines, but Carrell’s comic timing and delivery – awkward and incongruous for the entire film allows him to take the mantle of Anchorman’s most memorable character.

8. Ralph Brown – Withnail and I

The curiously accented drug dealer Danny- perhaps the most endearing proprietor of hard drugs that’s ever been committed to film. In an unusual turn of intertextual writing, Mike Myers deployed Ralph Brown as a suspiciously similar character in Wayne’s World 2, the road-worn roadie Del Preston. He did a good job stealing the scenes in that film too – particularly when he regales a group of teens about having to beat a man to death with his own shoe so Ozzy could play on stage that night. A unique character and direct inspiration for the character in this next entry…

(more…)

posted by Mickey McCullagh / 0 Comments

State Intervention #5: Mountain Man

State Intervention is a collaboration between Bandwidth and State webzine in Dublin. Flash gigs in Dublin’s shops, bars, parks and street corners, promoted purely online through State’s Twitter and Facebook profiles. Details are announced on the day, so keep up to date and find your way down.

This is the 5th State Intervention gig, a walk in the park with Mountain Man. We brought strawberries and umbrellas, and the rain was warm – a typical Irish summer. Watch out for more Interventions in the great outdoors, and consider bringing your wellies if you fancy coming along to the next one?

Subscribe to the State Twitter feed and watch out for the next gig!

Tracklist
1. Mouthwings
2. Arabella
3. Whale Song
4. Animal Tracks

Read all about it on State.ie

Camera/Edit: Will McConnell
Sound/Mix: Ian Maleny

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Top Ten Things Lauded By Ironists

Irony is the shackles of youth, apparently.

10.  Archaic Computer Consoles

The first computer to feel love

Oh irony of ironies – the first thing on my list and i realise I have a genuine love for old computer consoles. So maybe I should stop being an elitist prick and accept maybe other people do to. Is it ironic that the first thing on this list isn’t ironic? I have gone crossed eyed.

9.  The Eighties

Things were so much better back then

The 80′s were truly a golden age of cultural iconography and significance. Even now the advancements made in the 80′s can still be felt today. It gave the world it’s first reality TV show (Knight Rider), brought the world together with a common disease (AIDS) and the eternally fashionable piano key neck tie. YET, those pesky ironists want to diminish those grandiose achievements by only appreciating them in an ironic fashion. Am I being ironic? I don’t know. My nose is bleeding.

8.  Children’s Toys

Inflamed testicle

There’s a space hopper in my house. I fucking hate myself. My only defense is it appeared after a party- I can only presume it was Nathan Barley’s chosen mode of transport the previous evening. Why was I hanging around with Nathan Barely you ask? I was being ironic. I am a dick.

7. Doing the MySpace Pose (ironically)

Turdspace.com

What better way to display your disdain for something than perpetuating it ironically? Ow, my head. This was the worst idea for a top ten. Too late to turn back now.

6. Dancing Awkward On Purpose, In An Attempt To Disguise Their Awkwardness

Abba

Not all of you are blessed with the groove that resides in my soul. I have been described as Ireland’s answer to Torville & Dean, somehow. Dancing awkwardly on purpose is definitely an improvement than just dancing awkwardly – take it from this cat, when I be splitting posture bombs on the dancefloor of the Copa Ramada (behind Spar) the last thing I want is for some funk-killing tile turkey handing out nega-vibes. You dig? Me neither.

5. Appreciating ‘Skins’ (but not understanding why)

Gritty teen drama

it’s as bad as appreciating irony but not understanding why, as demonstrated by this list.

4. Chuck Norris

Definitely Chuck Norris

Chuck Norris is so Adjective that when he Verbs, implausible conclusion asserting his toughness. Times fucking infinity. He also told Haley Joel Osmond he had aids in this touching scene:

3. David Hasselhoff

Look how terrified the dogs are

‘Don’t you wish your boyfriend was Hoff like me?’ mused the hilarious t-shirt’s abundant in campsite B of the Oxygen festival circa 2007. ‘Perhaps,’ was my retort, ‘If I was that way inclined – I would lke my boyfriend to be filmed devouring a burger by his long suffering daughter whilst simultaneously retaining the adoration of the German people. Who wouldn’t? Actually don’t answer that, you’re just a t-shirt.’

2. Using variants of ‘LOL’ in real conversations

A person saying 'lol'

Don’t be afraid to delight in the natural occurence of laughter, for it pleasing to hear across the fields and in the taverns of our great nation. No-one wants to hear the ROFL-copter coming in for landing after a particularly hilarious anecdote, or hear the abbreviation pronounced ‘Lawl’. Declare that it’s Lolz-o-clock at your peril, fiendish cur.

1. Top Ten Lists

Top Tizzle

How witty and clever are me?  This list was doomed from the start, yet such is my obstinance I carried on and ended it with ‘Top Ten Lists’- the sort pseudo-paradoxical irony nonsense that may end up tearing a the time space continuum a new one. So I’ll see you all in November 5th 1955. May God have mercy on us all.

posted by Mickey McCullagh / 0 Comments