Resurrection

I am pleased to announce that Philip has recovered from a prolonged aberration and will shortly resume his intermitment Blog announcements ----- Message ends

Important Announcement

As most of us are dashing round supermarkets at this time of the year I thought I should share some advice regarding the world's premier snack food - The Twiglet. Twiglets have historically been available in large and small bags but over the past few years larger 200g tubs have been a common sight on supermarket shelves. To the unsuspecting consumer it would be fair to assume that the produce contained within the tubs and the bags is the same but sadly, this is not the case!!!

The Twiglets bought in bags are crisp and knobbly, have random profiles and a slightly glossy veneer of strong tasting marmite. They come in varying lengths and I defy anyone to eat a bag without developing a dark brown suspicious (but tasty) looking residue on their fingertips.














Twiglets packed in the tubs are stunted, dry, tasteless imposters of uniform length. This variety is probably mass produced in Western China and is an insult to the memory of Peak Frean & Co. the original creators, who introduced the world to the Twiglet, which was first produced in their Bermondsey factory, in 1929.

Please friends, for your Children's sake, only purchase bagged Twiglets.

Happy Christmas.

This year's music...Part 1

Connor Oberst is a prolific 27 year old American who has already recorded ten albums under the guise of 'Bright Eyes' a loosely formed collective led by singer-songwriter Oberst with able assisitance from his long standing musically versatile collaborator Mike Mogis. During the past 12 months Oberst has been responsible for a couple of contrasting albums, the first of which, Noise Floors, was released in February.

Noise Floors is essentially a compilation album containing a selection of former 'B' sides recorded during a seven year period from 1998. This album comprises a collection of whimsical tracks, which is fairly representative of his back-catalogue.

The second Bright Eyes album released in 2007, Cassadega, saw Oberst enter the mainstream by developing a tighter sound less reliant on the soft plinking acoustic instrumentation and the strained emotive vocal output typical of his earlier work.

What sets Oberst apart from others in the genre is his ear for a good melody, his angst ridden vocals and his lyrical talents. This combination of talents has seen him labour, particularly in the USA, under the all too familiar '..new Dylan' tag for a number of years now.

In spite of this Oberst continues to produce hauntingly memorable ballads which mostly compensates for his occasional tendency to lapse into self indulgence.

Listen to Bright Eyes on Hype Machine

Ladies & Gentlemen - Suppers Ready

I came across a fairly scarce live recording of Peter Gabriel with Genesis performing the epic, swirling 'Suppers Ready'. The album from which it is taken, 'Foxtrot', was originally released in 1972 and was well received by both critics and the then record buying public although regarded as a tad theatrical. I've included a link below and if you can spare 24 minutes it's well worth a look.

The video and audio quality is very poor but good enough to convey the fantastically pompous themes that seemed to inspire the Progressive ('Prog') Rock era. You'll see a stick thin Peter Gabriel and a rather serious looking drummer by the name of Phil Collins trying to mimic his ostentatious Public School educated fellow band members by studiously tilting his head to one side when singing support vocals on the quieter moments.

Despite the fairly hollow sound attributable to the production techniques in vogue at the time, it remains a resilient piece typical of the genre and in stark conflict to much of today's output where lyricists seem more concerned with the testosterone fueled notions of 'smashing a bitch up' and scoring revenge for being 'dissed'. The niaive lyrics for the piece, based on some vague mythical Armageddon vision punctuated with a few self indulgent twee interludes, is very representative of the post 1960's psychedelic theme when most aspiring bands would have spent their formative years regarding Tolkien as essential reading. The concert footage is also notable for the sadly 'groovy' stellar light show which, by comparison with the bands later efforts, seems woefully primitive.

Gabriel's haircut which was also deliberately provocative is almost as daft as his overtly theatrical make up but the whole thing just about holds together and is a preposterously memorable evocation of a less complex age.

"They're just an incredible band..."

I'm becoming a little tedious in my efforts to promote Arcade Fire to anyone who will listen. When initially cornered most people tilt their heads and frown slightly trying to adopt a look of polite and studious curiosity but most of them can't maintain it for long. As I start reciting the Band's biography their eyes flicker sidewards hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or something that will provide a distraction to cover their escape. The odd one or two show some genuine interest and there are a couple of converts that I can lay claim to, but on the whole, I've hardly been the band's most successful PR machine.

I'm sure all my good work will pay off one day and that Arcade Fire will eventually be rightly regarded as the finest band in the world. Thankfully this day draws ever closer and with their first prime time UK television slot as the closing band on the Jonathan Ross show on BBC1 last Friday, they have raised the stakes quite dramatically. Their performance on the show was typically wholehearted, although a tad overly dramatic with Win using his Mandolin to break a piece of candy glass placed in front of a camera as he stormed off stage at the end of 'Keep the Car Running'. The event was obviously stage managed and a little bit cheesy, if you ask me, nevertheless I dare say that a fair proportion of the 3 million who regularly tune in to watch Mr Ross would have found the performance interesting and refreshing. This perhaps reflects the fact that 'Neon Bible', the band's second album, re-entered the iTunes UK Shop top 10 album chart over the weekend.

I must admit to having a few lingering concerns though, particularly on the coiffure front. I worry about Jeremy Gara's (he's the drummer) efforts at becoming Eraserhead and Win's (he's the singer) reversion back to the familiar but puerile 'Curtains' hairstyle after a brief spell when he was sporting something a little more masculine. Ah well, nobody is perfect - onwards and upwards Win!

Time is passing...

My Boy's are 19 going on 20 and 15 going on 16 and I am so proud of the both of them. Charlton have been relegated. I saw Muse the other week at the new Wembley Stadium, great event, fabulous show but hardly intimate - obviously!! Bought some tickets to see Arcade Fire at the Ally Pally in November, it'll be interesting to see how they respond to the larger venue (Ally Pally has a capacity of 9,000) but they were undaunted and typically splendid at Glastonbury last week. Loosing weight but still a long weigh to go. Off on holiday to Antigua soon - can't wait. Work is crazy and a bit scary at the moment but enjoyable, nonetheless. My local pub is a madhouse - a lot of people are living in some kind of pseudo soap opera. Generally in modern life there is too much swearing - 'fuck' and other such words should be a cuss not a casual adjective. Got the Banksy book for Father's Day (thank you James & Fran) and would recommend it to all. I've been a fan of Banksy for some years now and I find his work very humorous and very poignant. Why is Dianne Abbott such a horribly smug cow and don't you hate it when people talk with their eyes closed. This worrying characteristic was becoming sadly commonplace on MOTD interviews with Alan Curbishley before he departed to Wet Spam. Why does UK national politics mean so little nowadays and why is it that I am so concerned about the spread (cancer?) of rampant globalisation? Please could somebody ban Scientology as it's a complete load of bollocks and a worryingly comfortable sanctuary for too many of this society's vulnerable who may have been consumed by the cults of celebrity, voyeurism and conspiracy - well done Germany in banning Tom Cruise from filming in the Fatherland. The former Sheffield United coach Neil Warnock was unpopular in some quarters but celebrated as a famous anagram which eventually became his nickname 'Colin' or in its more complete form 'Colin Wanker' which is a perfect anagram of this emotional Manager's name. Is Tony Blair really a Catholic - of course he is - so what!

Quaint Technology Volume 4.1

Take a look at this sexy piece of technology which would have set you back about £750 in 1983. The Commodore 64SX was the worlds first colour portable computer and boasted a massive 64K of useful memory together with a 170kB 5.25 inch floppy disk drive.

No wonder the bloke is sitting down and smiling - he's probably glad of the rest after carting the 23lb beast all the way from his hotel bedroom.

Simon Jordan - A twat detected

Rather than give credibility to the orange one's latest rant against Charlton Athletic by contesting it here, I have managed to locate this very apt photograph of the loathsome Chairman of AFC Croydon. He obviously likes to see himself in the company of movie stars but take a look at that pose with his hands? What's going on? Is it some form of Freudian signature mime. Perhaps he's trying to tell us something??

Couple that with the following piece from Guardian journalist Charlie Brooker in his review of the TV Programme 'Fortune: Million Pound Giveaway' (not really Scorcese is it Jordo?) and I think that you have a fairly accurate portrait of the man -


"On the panel are Duncan Bannatyne (who I quite like), Jeffrey Archer (who I don't), two women who look the same, and Simon Jordan - who performs a mind-boggling miracle each week by coming across as a bigger, smugger arsehole than Archer. He looks like a cross between Gérard Depardieu and a thick waiter, and is one of those people you instinctively dislike the moment you clap eyes on them, presumably thanks to some weird, primordial twat-detector lurking in the evolutionary backwaters of the brain. Consequently, everything he says and does fills you with revulsion. Everything. Last week he raised an eyebrow and I vomited blood for an hour."


A very perceptive piece Mr Brooker, absolutely blinking marvellous!!

In Memorium - Gareth Hunt

So. Farewell
then Gareth
Hunt. Once
a debonair
Avengaire.
Purdy's plum
then a
Nescafe chum.
The handshake
with the
coffe bean
always
seemed,
at least to me,
like a
rude
gesture.
Sadly, rude,
no more.

E.J. Medway Thribb (17.5 Years)

Project Tic Toc

I must admit that during the past decade or so I've become a bit of a stranger to the medium of television. I do watch the occasional programme and some of them are appealing but the era when a family sat together to watch the latest episode of a popular drama or a favorite sitcom seem as distant as the original transmissions of Sergeant Jones' recollections of his battles with the Fuzzy-Wuzzies.

Television is fast becoming a personal medium rather than a communal one. The increasing popularity of TV recording hard disk drives, You Tube, podcasts and other innovations from that wonderful 'information super highway' means that you can basically watch whatever you want, whenever you want. The BBC is soon to launch a service whereby key programmes from their most recent three week schedule will be available to watch directly from their website. Additionally landmark TV series such as 'Blue Planet' and 'Doctor Who' will become available on a permanent on-demand online basis.

The long term implications of such flexible scheduling is that the over subscribed sofa and family brew up that once signified the latest long awaited broadcast of the murder of JR Ewing, Basil Fawlty bashing his Morris with a tree branch or a battle on the baize between Terry Griffiths and Steve Davis is now sadly only a memory. The characteristic that made these TV events (and others) televisual landmarks was their inherent transience. If you missed the original broadcast then the chances were that you would have to wait some time before seeing it as a repeat on TV. Some bloke down the Pub may have had the wherewithal to record a copy on his VHS but these were seldom the sort of people that one would necessarily want to mix with.

Nowadays an anonymous source will have posted an extract from the awaited episode onto You Tube, Limewire or Google a couple of weeks before the programme is officially broadcast! In the worst case a full copy of the Japanese lip-synched dubbed translation of the episode, complete with subtitles will be available to view on the internet a few milliseconds after the credits have rolled on the original BBC2 version.

I'm not sure where all this immediate access is going to take us but the contrast with bygone years did cause me to reminisce (a worryingly popular pastime of mine) and
recall some of the TV programmes that were required viewing in the Medway household during my formative years.

One of my own favorites was the 'Time Tunnel' which was originally broadcast in the UK in 1968, two years after its Stateside debut. I particularly enjoyed one episode where the American heroes (Tony Newman and Doug Phillips) found themselves on Krakatoa before the huge volcanic eruption that destroyed the island in 1883. I've not yet downloaded this episode from the internet to play on my new video Ipod, a recent present from Mrs Medway, but I will do shortly.

In the meantime here is a ten minute clip from the very first episode of Time Tunnel which may strike a chord with a few older members of the flock. I suppose this site could be construed as a virtual sofa or am I being sentimental?

Man of the Year

Word has reached me from a gathering in Woolwich last weekend that plans are afoot to revive the Man of the Year Contest. The earliest known contest dates back to the late 1970’s and was one of the first community programmes sponsored by the Medway Foundation looking to offer informal self development opportunities to local youngsters.

I recall that this was an exciting occurrence for the Foundation which was, at that time in its formative stages. I am pleased to report that the contests proved extremely successful enabling some of the combatants to become decent citizens when otherwise confronted with a squalid life of crime and misery in South East London. This, my very earliest group success, has given rise to a number of long term friendships which have collectively become known as the ‘Flock’ and I am very proud to note that these long term beneficiaries are now active in reviving the contest in order to offer similar self development opportunities to a whole new generation.

This memorable reminder of the past prompted me to consult the original vellum bound Medway Journals in which the following excerpt of my thoughts from that time on the Man of the Year Contest was recorded -

“It all began in the long, hot summer of 1978, the year of the first Christopher Reeve Superman movie. Posters appeared all over Woolwich proclaiming - “On July 22^nd you’ll believe a man can fly”

But this was no movie poster. It was a clarion call to the men of Woolwich, Plumstead and Charlton.

And it was then that they gathered together, those great men of old. For giants and heroes walked upon the earth in those days, men of renown. Arkins, Jordan, Watson, Connealy, Dempsey, McGrannahan, Sheehan, McGowan.

They gathered together to do battle for the first Man of The Year trophy. One night, several contests, and the prospect of either twelve months of proven masculine prowess or a lifetime of flaccid despair.

It was The Man of the Year, not the person of the year, for this was 1978 and we all lived on Mars and sucked in its smoky atmosphere.

Five trials were held in all: Pool, Darts, Crib, Fastest Pint, Chess.

In the end the contest was fittingly won by an unknown contestant, a man with no name.”

Once I have had more time to consider the peculiar synchronicities of this welcome episode of déjà vu I shall share with you further recollections from my handwritten journals.

I am also pleased to advise that my team are in touch with the organisers of the new contest and that the Medway Foundation will be active in assisting them and supporting their efforts on this most worthy endeavour.

I will ensure that this website carries regular updates on developments but I can advise that, at this moment, April 14^th seems the most favourable date for the contest.

A hymnal for the dissaffected

Arcade Fire
Neon Bible



The religious theme that extends throughout Arcade Fire's music amounts to more than their recent use of a church organ, there is a strong theological undercurrent that pervades their debut album 'Funeral' (UK 2005) and which is also evident on their latest effort 'Neon Bible', which is released in Europe on March 5th and in the USA and Canada on the following day. A casual review of the lyrics for Neon Bible will reveal a vocabulary peppered with references to 'God', 'Throne', 'Hope', 'Religion', 'Church' and even a titular reference to the 'Antichrist'. Don't get confused though this language is not used to formulate a didactic sermon from some sectarian pulpit this is a humanist confessional borne from vulnerability, uncertainty and sometimes, hope.


In an increasingly hedonistic society it is unusual to encounter a band like Arcade Fire. The initial reaction to their high energy cacophony of instrumentation can be a little disconcerting given the trend for the restored familiarity of guitar and drum driven Indie music which has thankfully supplanted the banal boy band pap which was prevalent throughout the 1990s. The impassioned vocal delivery of frontman Win Butler may seem a little too twee for some who prefer the throaty workmanlike growl of the re-established singer songwriter genre (Gawd bless 'em all.) Add to this the band's rejection of celebrity and their renowned interaction with their increasingly large band of devout followers and you have something special - the image at least tells us this is a band that cares.


This band doesn't care in the way that Bono and Geldof 'care' this band has announced a new agenda. The Arcade Fire has confronted isolation, tenderness and bewilderment and presented it to their audience. They have acknowledged uncertainty and self doubt while also embracing morality and spirituality. Thankfully this flies in the face of the traditional badass 'Rock n' Roll' industry which has always been fuelled on a perceived youthful rebellion. In an era when the excessive behaviour of some parents exceeds that of their own offspring is the 'Rock n' Roll' rebellion just a little jaded and irrelevant?


Arcade Fire seem to attract a dedicated and diverse congregation of fans from all generations, musical tastes and cultural backgrounds. Waifs and strays and a good sprinkling of lapsed churchgoers would not appear out of place at one of their gigs. What they share in common is uncertain but their passion for the band and it's music amounts to a crusade that could gather momentum once the band encounter the mainstream acceptance that is sure to come their way with the release of 'Neon Bible'.

This album is more measured than the chaotic energy, angst and delirium that is 'Funeral'. Neon Bible hangs together as a well produced collection of exceptionally good songs performed by musical craftsmen who have clearly honed their instrumental skills in the period since the release of 'Funeral'.


This is a magnificent album and you must buy it.

Arcade Fire - Neon Bible
*****