Set on board the ISS crewed with an international team, some time in the unspecified near future, a Martian soil sample, brought back by the Pilgrim 7 probe, yields a dormant life-form. The ISS boffins bring it back to life, only to wish they hadn’t.
Life is very clearly and obviously heavily indebted to the Aliens series. But it doesn’t have the same high drama of the ‘original’. Nor do the characters have the charisma of the older films’ cast.
But that said, there’s enough that’s original here, and it’s all somewhat more ‘realistic’ – the super-evil-kelp-demon-alien aside – in terms of the basics of life aboard the ISS (as opposed to the whole Alien Nostromo trip), and how things might go wrong, making it fairly watchable.
My wife is the one that usually suggests we try a sci-fi movie, and so it was on this occasion. I’m the sci-fi sceptic, who finds the whole genre big on promise but small on delivery. With a few exceptions. Life is okay, neither great, nor awful.
As with all the Aliens movies, and many a horror film (or classic western, for that matter), this is essentially a siege, with malevolent evil vs plucky humanity. Perhaps the best and the worst thing about this film is the final twist.
Rather amazingly, this is the same year as the previous Police gig, also recorded for the German Rockpalast TV show, as covered in my last post. But The Police are evolving, rapidly ascending the heights of Pop Olympus. They come onstage to a backing of Voices Inside My Head*, from their follow up to Regatta de Blanc, ZenyattaMondatta.
Sting wears a Regatta de Blanc T-shirt, and plays an upright stick bass. Summers looks smarter, in a snazzy striped ‘sports jacket’ and white T-shirt. Stewart Copeland is striped and very sporty, and now has a more plush drum throne, with back support! The venue is waaay bigger. Hamburg was a medium sized theatre, Essen looks like a stadium.
Sting on ‘bull fiddle’.
After Don’t Stand So Close To Me, from their new album, Zenyatta Mondatta, and Walking On The Moon, from Regatta de Blanc, Sting swaps back to his normal electric bass, and they kind of go punk Bo-Diddley, on Deathwish. They’re definitely looking and sounding that much more like pop stars. And it’s the same year as the previous neo-punk-jazz onslaught!
Copeland still drives the band with the same ferocious energy. They still jam out a lot, but it feels slightly more restrained. At least at first. They’re still playing one or two non-album oddities, like Fall Out, and Sting is adding synth touches via what might be a Moog, and what look like Taurus pedals.
Man In A Suitcase is the next live workout for a number from Zenyatta, their latest release that they were touring to promote at this time. Whilst this still has some of the upbeat energy of their earlier era, it’s also more brightly melodic.
When they get to Bring On The Night the change from the previous performance seems more pronounced. This time it’s not quite as manic nor intense. I think this is partly due to the scale of the venue; the sound is more diffuse in a bigger space. But the performance also differs, being more restrained, less wild. It’s interesting to see how they work at building the tension under Andy’s guitar solo, in a way that differs massively from the album version.
They go into the double-time frenzy, as they did previously, on the Hamburg gig, but it works a little less well. This is partly due to the muddy wash of delay on Copeland’s kit, and partly, again, because it’s made more woolly and diffuse by the sheer scale of the venue. I’ve always preferred theatres and smaller venues to stadiums, for gigs. Stadium concerts are more about money than music, as far as I’m concerned.
Things come into a sharper focus again for De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da (memorably desscribed by Steve Coogan’s Alan Partridge as their ‘nonsense anthem’!). The newer, slicker, more pop Police sound and style are coming to the fore now. It’s still intense, but smoother and decidedly less spiky. Any punky rough edges are gradually being worn away.
Sting’s bass once again is noticeable at times for the very approximate tuning. It being live things are a bit more forgiving. In the studio they’d never have let such sloppiness pass.
The Truth Hits Everybody is a track from debut, Outlandos d’Amour, and a brief and energised nod to their roots. After which the upright bass comes out for another Zenyatta track, the spooky and much more mellow and moody Shadows In The Rain (which is apparently about hard drug use!). This song would be totally reworked for Sting’s solo debut, Dream of the Blue Turtles. But here it presages the type of soundscapes that would eventually come to dominate The Police’s final album, Synchronicity (Tea In The Sahara, Walking In Your Footsteps, King of Pain, etc).
When The World Is Running Down was and still is a favourite of mine from Zenyatta. The weird juxtaposition of rather joyful music with the maudlin post-apocalyptic ruminations of the lyrics are, well… unusual! Sting gets a bit funky at one point in the jam section/guitar solo, playing a high register lick on the bass, and supplying the low-register via his pedals.
The Bed’s Too Big, rather like Bring On The Night, suffers a little, to my ears, from the translation into a much bigger venue. I think the band’s performance is very similar to earlier in the year, in the main. But the larger space soaks up and dissipates the intensity. I think if you were at the gigs, these numbers may well have retained their magic, or even intensified it, with the extended jam or improv sections. These are two of my definite favourites in their album versions.
Driven To Tears is a monster track on Zenyatta, partly cause it’s a great song, but also because Copeland’s drumming gives it an added edge. Here the most striking thing about it might be the sudden appearance of overtly socially-conscious lyrics from Sting. It’s not the first instance of this, just the most overt and strident. The trio give it a real powerhouse workout on stage.
The Police then neatly segue into, and play their way out, on a string of what, by then, were the hits that had turned them, and were continuing to turn them, into mega-stars: Message In a Bottle, Roxanne, Can’t Stand Losing You (with a bit of Regatta de Blanc by way of intro), before closing with a spirited medley of Next To You/So Lonely.
The contrast in the two concerts of the same year is quite striking. In Hamburg they’re a slightly punky band, excited at their ascent, and blasting their music through the more intimate venue with astonishing power. By the time they arrive in Essen they’re fully fledged pop stars, and the big ‘production’ in a huge venue, whilst superb, and undoubtedly more ‘mature’, also loses a whisker in the intensity stakes. This is partly due to the evolution of their songs and overall sound, and partly the scale of the gig.
This DVD contains both concerts.
Both concerts are excellent, and they are (or were?) available together on a combined DVD package (see accompanying pics). Hearing these concerts sends me back to the original albums. What a band! These two terrific films capture The Police scaling the heights.
PS – Thanks to a pal, who gave us tickets to see The Police when he couldn’t go – thanks buddy! – Teresa and I saw them during their 2007 reunion tour. It was a good gig. But the old intensity wasn’t quite there. Andy Summers in particular was showing his age (and of course he has passed away now). And it was in a bigger venue than I like. We were actually behind the main stage, and quite high up.
* The background intro version sounds like a synth n drum machine demo? It’s certainly not the studio/band version, which benefits from a terrific drum performance from Copeland.
For stuff like this YouTube is great. I wonder how long it’ll stay this way?
This gig finds the Police in their high-octane early incarnation, quite neo-punk, in terms of energy. It’s more confusing than appearances might suggest though, as they are, essentially, a power-trio. Quite a rock-mongous beast! But whereas most power trios would have an axe-wielding guitar-hero, Any Summers is more art-rock weirdo, and the instrumental star is really Copeland.
Sting is, well… Sting, bankably good looking and charismatic (as Andy Summers wryly observed from the get go), with a brilliant voice, song writing skills to die for, and seemingly born to the role of frontman. Not in an Elvis or Ozzy way, but just by being himself. Fantastic!
Sting rocks his incipient mullet.
Personally I love their mellower side, the first real sign of which is the mesmeric Bring On The Night. It’s still way more pumped than the Regatta de Blanc album version. But the ethereality and the melancholy of the Sting aspect of the group is allowed to simmer and come to the boil wonderfully.
Also very notable is the jazz-prog side of the group, not in overt ‘genre’ terms, but in the fact that songs are frequently allowed to breath in extended passages of improvisation. For example, in Bring On The Night they go into a totally intense double time blast variant that I’ve not heard on any other performances.
Also very intriguing are tracks like Fall Out and Visions of the Night, which are not part of The Police’s album canon. But when they return to the more familiar material, with Bed’s Too Big Without You, they go into a blinding cosmic über-jam that finally resolves back into the song. And the go waaay out! Astonishing!
Copeland at work/play.
One of them, Sting, I think, is triggering some synth effects, and Copeland’s drums often get treated to washes of dubby delay. so they generate a massive sound. And this despite not having a conventional lead spanner of a guitarist. Summers can cut loose with the blues rock style thing, as he briefly does on a Bullet train from Japan version of Peanuts.
This is a young band, riding the crest of their burgeoning stardom; btheir energy is super intense. I think Stewart Copeland is a very large part of this. And what a monstrous driving drummer he is! His kit, like his his playing is unique. His use of hi-hat and tide so much more expressive than the average rock/pop drummer. And his fills and use of odd accents, literal splashes of sound, and the octobans and roto-toms, all add up to a unique voice in driving seat.
Roxanne is also put through the extended-improv wringer. The German crowd are wigging out. And who could blame them. What a performance. Even the rather approximate tuning of Sting’s bass can’t put a dampener on proceedings.
Joe Morello studied with George Lawrence Stone. That alone is recommendation enough!
I’ve been dipping into this for over two decades now. Although, to my everlasting shame, I’ve not completed it yet. I use it in my drum teaching all the time.
Morello was Stone’s star pupil. And thanks to Morello’s precocious work on Stick Control, we also have Stone’s follw-up, the snappily titled Accents and Rebounds.
A great tool for developing better reading, and – of course – stick control. Starting with such simple building block as singles, doubles, and grouping of three or four, per hand, the numbered exercises take you though a huge variety of combinations, leading with both right and left.
Stone says play everything 20 times. And play with a metronome at various different speeds. This is terrific conditioning practice on a pad, and fun to transfer to snare. Of course one can then take it to the kit, and orchestrate it there.
Used regularly and with a bit of discipline this book can impart strength, stamina, speed, control of dynamics, and much more. Definitely an essential piece of kit in the drummer’s training arsenal.
As a kid I had a few T-shirts – only a very few, mind – that proclaimed something.
One such was a Blackfoot one. They were a US ‘Native American’ rock group, most famous (I think?) for a track called Morning Dew (‘Mourning Jew!?’ says my inner Woody Allen!).
A bit weird, that one. Acquired primarily for the colourful design, at a time when being a rocker/hippy, of sorts, was my intent! I did like the group, or at least the few songs of theirs I’d heard. But in truth, a Thin Lizzy T-shirt, something I now have, but didn’t back then, would’ve been a better representation of my tastes and listening preferences!
I then went through a very long and, retrospectively, rather bleak ‘no logo/label’ phase. A combo of anti-advertising sentiment and a semi (pseudo?) political stance.
Nowadays I’ve relaxed back into a childish glee in using my chest as a communications platform. And I’ve slowly but surely been amassing a collection of T-shirts whose sole porpoise – aside from temperature regulation and public decency – is to let the world know a little about me, without I have to open my yap.
There are still a number of things the puritanical politico-moralist in me eschews; I don’t like brand labels, nor am I fan of slogans. Maybe it’s a legacy of the artist-illustrator-designer part of me? But I prefer T-shirts that are primarily visual. Sometimes, as in the Moog or Lizzy tees, this design is textual. But mostly I prefer pictures or ‘designs’.
Some of these purchases have been happier than others. I’m quite disappointed with how my Mr Natural Robert Crumb T-shirt is fading with each wash. And a couple of Herbie Hancock designs I got (from China, most likely?) are kind of great, design/image wise, but are made from hideous synthetic material (the sort often used for football shirts). I definitely prefer good ol’ plain cotton!
Pics: Herbie tees…
My most recent acquisition – whilst pictured at the top of this post, it hadn’t actually arrived when I started drafting it – is an Impulse record label logo job. I really wanted the maroon variant, with cream disc, etc, the above of the two pictured below. But that wasn’t available. So I went instead for the brown and orange variant below that. Still nice!
My preferred but unavailable choice.The variant I eventually ordered.
This whole trend towards forlornly broadcasting one’s interests, perhaps esp’ so since I turned 50 (Jan’ this year… gulps!), might seem a bit pathetic. But I reckon I’m past caring!
Here’s a mini gallery of some of the designs I have. What does this little collection say about me, I wonder? I’d like to think it’s just a bit of harmless fun. But Teresa seems to be more of the ‘what are you wasting money on those for?’
For years I’ve avoided almost all franchises and follow-ups in the world of films. With just a few exceptions.
Having recently watched Rocky, and thoroughly enjoyed it, I thought I’d give Rocky II a go. Stallone wrote, directed and starred in this follow up to his breakthrough, whereas the first movie was directed by John G Avildsen.
Rocky II starts with an extended précis of the end of Rocky, which is kind of weird. Nowadays such things would be much slicker and shorter. But it’s kind of cute!
The movie’s premise is very simple: Rocky is torn between his love for Adrian, and a desire to retire from boxing (and his gangster/street life hustle), and Apollo Creed’s taunting calls for a re-match.
The Stallone/bandana affair starts here.
It’s not as well directed as Rocky, but it still has a lot of heart, as they say. And Rocky’s struggle to reconcile his warring emotions and the pressures of providing for a wife, and possibly a kid, all make for an engaging if simple story.
Creed and his camp are good again, as the worldly wise and business savvy slick big timers. And we get to see the domestic impact on both Creed and Balboa, the former in splendour, the latter in poverty.
Once again there are a number of set pieces, from the shopping spree and visit to the zoo, to the church and hospital purgatory, the time in the gym as perdition, penance and finally absolution, the training scenes (much like before only turned up to 11!), and, of course, the fight itself.
Not quite as good as Rocky, but certainly not the kind of brainless trash cash-in that so many sequels to initially good films are (the kind that have made the very idea of sequels so off putting to me). Enjoyable if hammy fun.
Aha! As the Partridge used to say. Back of the net! Etc. Actually this is trash. Total trash. But it’s the kind of trash I’ve been rooting around for.
The trouble with a lot of modern American films is that they’re populated with the most disgusting abominations of sub humanity imaginable. Rather like Trumpist America itself. A cesspool of self-interested armed aggressors.
It’s therefore kind of appropriate that ‘they’ – the gang that starts the movie by butchering a family who return to find said gang robbing their home – kidnap a monster even more depraved than themselves, who then serves ‘justice’, American style, i.e. sadistic ultra-violence, upon them.
The film starts, you might say ‘cleverly’, but I think that’d be misplaced, with the ‘final girl’ scene, as Emma (Adelaide Clemens) – the human McGuffin of the movie – runs through the woods. Flynn (Derek Magyar) the most repellent of the gang, becomes a kind of macho substitute ‘final girl’. Or is that role actually reserved for Denny (Beau Knapp)?
Luke Evans is The Driver, a sociopathic and psychopathic mass-murderer and kidnapper, with a trailer full of kill-kit and a babe in both passenger seat and boot. The former may be the latest in his Stockholm Syndrome experiments, the latter is Emma.
America is unwell, this sort of product is a symptom of the disease. And yet, decadent and hypocritical as this may be, it is kind of entertaining. Oh, humanity… I would weep for us all… but I’ve been all cried out for some time now.
One of Mel Gibson’s favourite, or at least most common roles, is the self-righteous and enraged everyman, wronged and out for truth and vengeance. He’s so macho he steamrollers over all politesse and BS.
Airdrop him into a high level conspiracy and, well… it’s all a load of convoluted bollocks, frankly. In terms of believability the plot here is fairly preposterous.* But in terms of the fun we might have, watching Mel G punch his way through concrete? That’s, possibly, another matter.
The film starts with with Craven, Gibson’s character, meeting his near as damn it estranged daughter, at the airport. A cop, Craven is unhappily married to the badge, and lives alone. He takes hisdaughter, clearly ill, is pallid, vomiting regularly, and clearly troubled in mind. Just when we think she’s going to open up about what’s ailing her, she’s blown away, on the doorstep of Pop’s home. It’s assumed this is an attempt to kill Craven, gone wrong. But is it?
I’m not a fan of Ray Winstone, or ‘Wockney cankers’ in general. His presence here put me off watching this on several occasions. His role is to be the Yin to Gibson’s Yang, the devil to his angel. Mind if devils and angels are essentially the same, and basically just hitmen/butchers… hmmm!?
Also, in typical US casting style, Brits, posh or working class, are almost always ‘baddies’. There’s an almost hilarious twist here though, as Jdward… er, sorry …Jedburgh (Winstone) is a faux-mystic/intellectual assassin, who likes cigars and quoting poetry – what class! – and other ‘eyebrow’ literature. But, surprise surprise, he’s at his most eloquently candid when he says is with bullets.
A slightly odd supernatural/spiritual thread runs through the film, also connecting Gibson’s and Winstone’s characters. But the unifying theme underneath all of it, is death. America loves death. This film loves death.
Is it any good? Myaah… is it enough fun to warrant watching? Just about. Hardly a hearty recommendation!
* Mind you, if we all knew the horror of what really goes on in the corridors of power it might make the most insane plots seem entirely plausible.
As a drum teacher working in various schools, I’m frequently faced with the need to power gadgets of various kinds: from the guitar amps I use, to bring backing tracks, metronome etc, to a level that competes with the drums, to iPhones and iPads for the apps and music, and so on.
I‘ve gradually switched from ‘hard’ (paper!) copies to PDF files for a good deal of my teaching materials, over the last two or three years. It lightens the physical load. But it can be bad if devices conk out, and power can’t be sourced.
This latter point also raises the spectre of the online connectivity issues. Schools often make it harder for visiting music peri’s and the like to access online services than for their own full time staff, with changing visitor passwords, and sometimes blocking sites or apps that music lessons might benefit from access to.
My view from my off-kit teaching position.
Anyway, I very rarely post on’t blog about work. Indeed, this might be the first such occasion!? I thought I’d put on record, for my own benefit, an unofficial summary of how I’m doing such stuff at this point.
The accompanying pics are from a school that’s only recently been built, and as yet only has pupils from year groups 7, 8 and 9. So it’s a new and growing institution.
When I first started teaching here, I was in a tiny boxy music rehearsal room. Par for the course. But not the best space for drum lessons (far from the worst tho’, either). But as of Sept’ ‘21, I’ve been giving my lessons on the swanky stage of the shiny and pristine new theatre/auditorium. Nice!
I supplied a rug, to stop the kit sliding around.
It’s a bit echoey – big space, very high ceiling, reflective surfaces – but softened a little by hooooge curtains. And all black. So very ‘pro stagecraft’ in look and feel. Esp’ with the fancy lighting rigs over-head.
The little extension pictured above now travels with me to all my schools. It would be a bit better, if it had a rather longer lead. But it does bring three ordinary plugs and two USB type (?) connections closer to me, wherever I may be sat.
For amplification I have three options, of which I will generally always have two: first, a Bluetooth ‘boom-box. This is good for listening to stuff when not actually drumming. It’s not quite loud enough to compete with an acoustic kit, however.
I got this power supply hub type extension from Amazon.
The other of the essential pair is a guitar amp. I have a Fender 15W and a Roland Cube 15W. They both play up a bit here and there. And they also have different aux inputs: the Fender has a phono pair, L and R, whilst the Roland just has a 1/4” stereo jack socket. Both are fed audio via either an iPad or iPhone, via a (?) stereo jack.
Both amps can be unwontedly noisy, and both are, especially with loud music and heavy hitters, only just loud enough to work well when teaching drums on acoustic kits. All the kits are I teach on are beginner level quality acoustic sets. I’m soooo glad none of them are cheapo e-kits!
I far prefer acoustic drums and cymbals to electric gear. The only e-kits I’ve tried and liked are the very top of the range ones from Roland, in the £3-5,000 area.
Once again I’ve been trying to create some order in my tiny workshop.
First (lower) shelf in place.
I put up two marine ply shelves (very strong!), along the left hand wall, attached in part to the shed frame itself, at one end (and in the middle), and the shelving unit at the other. I’ve put my two drill presses on the lower shelf, and all my sundry electric tools, or near enough, on the upper shelf. They’ll need proper homes in the fullness of time. But at least they’re out of the way, for now.
And loaded with gear.
Sundry other fixtures, hooks and little shelves and whatnot, have gone up as well, providing homes for various items. I’m also going to make a portable tool caddy in the style of one Patrick Sullivan shares on his YouTube channel. But that’s a project for later. (See YT Link at bottom)
Cutting channels for the base boards.Used a ‘skill-saw’; a few minor errors!
But the major job I’ve done, yesterday and today, is to finally insert a basal shelf on my workbench. Again, I’m using some marine ply I got off a Cambridge area FreeCycler, many moons ago. Top quality lumber! Expensive stuff. Very glad I’ve got a stash of it for jobs like this.
Snapped off the remaining wood…… and then chisel the channels flat.The base is a three piece construction.
I cut the channels in the legs using a skill saw or plunge saw, set to an one inch depth. Making a series of cuts, the outer and innermost first, and the clearing a bit more wood with more passes. Then I snapped of the ‘fins’, leaving behind a little wood that needed chiselling away to make a nice flat base.
Having got the first piece in, with some glue, and a soft rubber-headed mallet to encourage it into place. I started with the central plank, which goes all the way through to the outer edges of the legs. After that, I had to cut two pieces to bring the width, or perhaps rather the depth, to it’s proper size.
Clamping stuff to get it aligned.
The central board reaches all the way across the bench to the outer edges of the legs. It required serious whacking with a mallet, and even a sledgehammer, to get the board fully in place. I suspect everything’s a tad off, as I generally busk this stuff. I do measure. But I’m not hyper accurate.
The final two boards span a shorter width, between the channels on the inner sides of the legs. The boards are all glued in place. Clamps and a ratchet strap are helping get everything sold and reasonably well aligned.
The third piece finishes it off.
I’m thinking that I might add another similar board nearer the top, and put in two drawers. For the time being I’ll probably use the bottom shelf as a lumber storage and/or a place for one or two oddments, equipment wise.
Note, vice removed, and… sledgehammer!?
The final pic, above, shows the whole thing, albeit a bit obscured by the open door. I removed the vice, as I wasn’t happy with how I had installed it. I’m going to re-fit it, probably at the left end of the bench. I also have another vice that I might add. But I’m not sure where? On the bench, or elsewhere in the shop?
I’m also planning to add dog/holdfast holes. Although I might install a hard-wood top to the bench. My laminated pine top is neither perfectly flat nor very resilient. It’s easily damaged.
Sundry power-tools, on the upper shelf.
The two lamps pictured above, and at the top of this post, were Amazon Vine freebies, for review. Quite nice, although not really to my tastes. But a strip light would ultimately be better (takes up less space!). Observant viewers may spot that I ran the power to the light up and out the front of the ply shelf, so as to avoid any tools damaging it.
