Gary Strachan – "Write" Said Fred
Whimsical observations from deep within an erratic mind
For the second year on the trot, I witnessed a commendable performance from band Shed Seven during yesterday evening's pre-Christmas gig at Leeds' O2 Academy. When I say witnessed that isn't strictly true. For a section of the York band's impressive set of new and 90's anthems, I had a restricted view standing behind what... Continue Reading →
Yesterday evening, while perched in my seat on row 9 of the Sheffield Arena, thoughts manifested themselves of Phil Collins' first major acting role as the Artful Dodger in the London stage production of Oliver! The epiphany of Collins' fledgling acting career in the early 60's made an unexpected visit whilst my wife Karen and I witnessed the ex-Genesis drummer/singer's... Continue Reading →
Treating my recently wax cleared lugs to the R&B anthems of Aberdonian singer Emeli Sande, I had a night out yesterday evening at the first direct arena in Leeds. To clarify, spelling first direct without capitals and in bold text isn't a misprint, it's the brand spelling. Knowledge I'm privileged to as one of my personalities worked there... Continue Reading →
As I commence this tome, I'm slouched on a dining table chair, attempting to muster up the enthusiasm for a rare journey into the domain of multi-tasking. This infrequent venture necessary to allow me to conclude my blog in parallel with securing gig tickets online. Like most guys, the capacity to only successfully manage one task at a time appears to be indelibly marked within... Continue Reading →
In the first three lines of their song No More Heroes, 1970’s punk band The Stranglers ask the rhetorical question:- Whatever happened to Leon Trotsky? He got an ice pick. That made his ears burn. Three lines referencing a day in 1940 when Trotsky received a fatal ice pick wound. A soupcon of punk prose from the pen Hugh Cornwell... Continue Reading →
Occasionally my wife displays a quirky side that, although unintentional, never fails to amuse. Be this the sporadic misnaming of celebrities, the naive innocence about certain ‘near the knuckle’ subjects or just an ill thought out, but nevertheless humourous, question. This morning she gave a perfect example of the latter as we sat discussing the subject of... Continue Reading →
There is an endearing quirkiness regularly displayed by my wife, at times unintentionally, that never fails to amuse. Be this the sporadic misnaming of celebrities, the naive innocence about certain 'near the knuckle' subjects or just an ill thought out, but nevertheless humourous, question. This morning she gave a perfect example of the latter as... Continue Reading →
I ventured out to see Inspiral Carpets and Shed Seven yesterday evening. For those who haven’t heard of them, I hadn’t been granted exclusive access to Boxing Day sales adverts for companies selling flooring and garden storage units. No, I’m relating to around three hours watching two 1990’s Indie bands at the O2 Academy, in... Continue Reading →