Musical Notes; Let's Go Shopping

It’s a couple of months since I last discussed my musical preferences on here (http://payaso-del-mierda.blogspot.co.uk/2012_03_01_archive.html), so I thought it was about time for me to revisit the subject, by means of a rundown of the newly released albums I’ve bought this year. To be candid, I’ve also been buying stuff by Cornelius Cardew, Pecker Dunn and Godspeed You! Black Emperor, but those arcane pleasures are for another blog, dedicated to the bizarre and the obscure. However, back to the present; instead of setting myself the invidious task of rating my purchases in terms of artistic merit, I’ve decided to go with the system of addressing them in alphabetical order.

Fairport Convention – By Popular Request

I picked this little beauty up at their gig at The Sage at the end of February (see March music blog for review). It is a collection of their most popular songs, as voted for by members of the Fairport Convention internet mailing list, intended as a celebration of the band’s 45 years in the business. However, rather than just a greatest hits collection, this is a series of new recordings of established classics, though fairly predictably it doesn’t stray too far from the original spirit and style of the songs themselves. Then again, why on earth would Fairport want to do that? The running order isn’t a chronological one, but more akin to the current live set. Obviously the album ends, as every Fairport gig is contractually obliged to do, with “Meet on the Ledge” and “Matty Groves” is on there too, as well as other early gems such as “Fotheringay,”  “Sir Patrick Spens” and “Walk Awhile.” However, the ones that really do it for me are “Red and Gold” and “The Hiring Fair,” two songs that I missed out on first time round and hadn’t owned until this purchase. That said; the absolute classic on here is Chris Leslie’s version of “The Hexhamshire Lass,” which brought the house down at The Sage and is even better here. By Popular Request doesn’t break any new ground, but this tilling of well loved land is a joy to behold. One year, I will get to Cropredy!!

Lightships – Electric Cables

This release, allowing as it does the genius behind it to cloak himself in his own unassuming modesty by pretending it is a group effort rather than his own work, is the debut solo album by Gerry Love, the bassist of Teenage Fanclub. It is as beautiful as it was long awaited. Rumours of a Gerry solo album had been doing the rounds for upwards of 3 years, and with typical Fanclubesque prevarication, the release date for this was pushed back with monotonous regularity. However, early 2012 saw Domino Records finally announce its arrival and for that we must rejoice.

Rather than the more upbeat TFC numbers Gerry was responsible for (“Sparky’s Dream” and “Don’t Look Back” to name 2 of the top 5 Fanny songs of all time), Electric Cables is a more, fragile delicate album, including three bona fide classics in Two Lines, Silver & Gold and Sunlight to the Dawn, though every song is a glorious, life-affirming slice of wholesome pop beauty. If the summer holds, then get this album on, as I can’t think of a better way to celebrate warmth, sunshine and the sheer joy of being alive on a glorious June Sunday afternoon than by playing this album. Sadly, I was unable to get a ticket for their May gig in Glasgow, but everyone who made it said it was brilliant. Still, at least Percy Main won away to Murton that day. Not much consolation really is it?

Snowgoose – Harmony Springs

From the side project of one member of Teenage Fanclub, to the collaborative efforts of two others; Raymond McGinley and Dave McGowan may not be the beating heart of Snowgoose, but they are essential musical muscle to support the superb song writing of Jim McCulloch and amazing voice of Anna Sheard. In any other era, Anna would be seen as the finest female vocalist around; sadly for her, the existence of Lavinia Blackwall means poor Anna isn’t even the finest chanteuse in Glasgow. It is instructive to mention Lavinia, for if her combo Trembling Bells are the nearest thing we have to the rebirth of Sandy Denny era Fairport Convention, then Snowgoose must be Pentangle. Unlike the swirling majesty of Trembling Bells, or the luxurious effervescence of Lightships, who they supported at the aforementioned Glasgow show in May, Snowgoose are more autumnal in their wistful, melancholic tone. It isn’t depressing; it is just slightly more introspective. The album is excellent and a worthy trove of articulate early 70s post folk; I bought it on vinyl on Record Store Day, when they played a short set at Reflex in Newcastle (see http://payaso-del-mierda.blogspot.co.uk/2012_04_01_archive.html for a review). I would appreciate seeing a full show by them, especially to hear such great numbers as Crawl Out Your Window and Sycamore with the full band, though acoustic Anna’s striking voice was thrust centre stage in such an intimate setting.

Trembling Bells with Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy – The Marble Downs

To be perfectly honest, I was terrified at the thought of hearing this album. From the first time I heard Trembling Bells, just after the release of “Abandoned Love,” I’ve adored them. It isn’t just Lavinia’s voice, though it has to be said she is the finest female vocalist in the entire world, it is also Alex’s brilliant, cynical, cathartic lyrics and Mike’s stunning guitar work, that allows them to effortlessly switch between Medieval Plainsong, wholesome Folk and sprawling, enthralling Prog Rock. Three albums and three live shows, with every single one leaving me utterly beguiled and inspired. I can’t hear “Willows of Carbeth” or “Just as the Rainbow” without forcing myself to gulp down hard at the lump in my throat. Music rarely gets this good.

Will Oldham, aka Bonnie “Prince” Billy is a fascinating, productive talent. What did worry me was that his hillbilly weirdo persona, which is often akin to the musical embodiment of a Cormac McCarthy novel, would not sit well with Lavinia’s classically trained English rose operatic tones. Amazingly that is not the case at all; Oldham has reined in his garbled eccentricities and the two acts fit cheek by jowl to produce an album of superbly crafted tales of lost love, alongside a decent amount of self indulgent playfulness that takes “Otley Rock  Oracle” as a starting point, then just gets weirder by the second. From the opening, hurried account of love gone wrong, “I Made a Date with an Open Vein” to the closing cover of Robin Gibb’s hysterical, anthemic “Lord Bless All” this album captivates and inspires; nowhere more so than the brutal, apocalyptic take on Oldham’s sinister “Riding.” I know I’m avoiding giving merit marks, but this is album of the year so far.

The Wedding Present – Valentina

Unlike the Trembling Bells & Bonnie “Prince” Billy release, here was an album I knew all about. Since their late 2010 Bizarro tour, The Weddoes have been previewing tracks from this album, to the extent that it didn’t so much feel like a new release, as another comfortable slice of Gedge philosophy with guitars. And bloody great it is too, with the exception of the banal “Girl from the DDR,” which must be the worst thing the band have ever done. Moving swiftly on, it’s fair to say that the opening pairing of “You’re Dead” and “You Jane” must be two of the finest post reformation WP tracks, especially the latter featuring Gedge on drums. “Meet Cute,” “524 Fidelio” and the blistering “End Credits” keep the pace and quality turned up to 11 on a thrilling, enjoyable ride through the familiar territory of break ups and bitterness that has been The Wedding Present’s stock in trade for almost 30 years now. Record Store Day saw them release the accompanying “4 Chansons” EP, which includes French language versions of “Deer Caught in the Headlights,” “End Credits” and “Mystery Date” from Valentina and a special bonus track “Metal Men.” A very fine, 10” clear vinyl accompaniment it is too. Obviously, later this year The Wedding Present are touring with Seamonsters, with me hoping to see them in Dublin, Carlisle and Newcastle, though it must not be forgotten in the midst of all this nostalgia, that this album is an excellent slice of their work.

So, apart from recorded music, what else have I been up to? Well, it’s been fairly quiet on the gig front; not only did I fail to get to see Lightships in Glasgow, but the appearance of Paul Brady at The Sage on Saturday May 5^th clean passed me by; consequently another opportunity to hear “The Lakes of Ponchartrain” has gone. Luckily, the two gigs I have been to were both fabulous occasions.

Christy Moore at the City Hall on Easter Sunday was exactly as you’d expect a Christy Moore gig to be. However, it didn’t start so promisingly, when I was moved from Row A to Row F, basically as there was no way you could see the fella from Row A, because of the lip of the stage; no matter, it was a wonderful night, and this was the set he played -:

1. Little Musgrave
2. Butterfly
3. Matty
4. Morecambe Bay
5. North & South
6. Burning Times
7. Barrowlands
8. Companeros
9. Veronica
10. D. T.s
11. Mc Illhatton
12. Tyrone Boys
13. Nancy Spain
14. Listen
15. Ordinary Man
16. Sun Shine In
17. Missing You
18. Quiet Desperation
19. Smoke & Strong Whiskey
20. Voyage
21. Ride On
22. Lisdoonvarna
23. John O ‘ Dreams ( in memory of Barney Mc Kenna)
Encore
24. Shovel
I hour 48 mins

The opener of “Little Musgrave” was a total surprise; the Irish version of “Matty Groves,” for those who don’t know and it fair took your breath away. Of the rest, “Morecambe Bay,” “Tyrone Boys,” “Ordinary Man” and “Smoke & Strong Whiskey” really hit the spot. However, without wishing to quibble, Liverpool the night before had 6 more songs and 20 more minutes, including “Cliffs of Doneen” and “Farmer Michael Hayes.”  Still, as part of this weekend’s jaunt to Ireland, I’ve not, as yet, ruled out the possibility of a dodge up to Derry to see him on Saturday night.

Finally, I must mention The Lady; an Homage to Sandy Denny at The Sage on Sunday. What a wonderful, ensemble show this was; a dozen and a half musicians combining together to celebrate the life and works of the finest female singer, other than Lavinia Blackwall, that English folk music has produced. Arriving fashionably late, we missed “A Sailor’s Life,” which was the introduction, or overture I suppose, including Dave Swarbrick and Jerry Donaghue, who’d last been on Tyneside with Ray Jackson’s Acoustic Gathering at the Cluny in March; both of those were the only musicians who’d actually played with Sandy back in the day. However, next up was Lavinia producing a stunning, authentic take on “North Star and the Grassmen,” which was so perfect as to equal the original.

Obviously, Sandy’s songs were not all that Fairport did, so there were moments when the quality dipped; possibly because of the material, but possibly because of the performer. I had no prior knowledge of Joan Wasser, but I will make no attempt to seek out her band Joan As Police Woman; it was dangerously close to power balladry when she took the stage. Maddy Prior has been around the block and it’s fair to say I doubt she’d do Steeleye Span’s back catalogue justice these days, though her version of “Fotheringay” was almost sublime, even if her attempt at dancing looked like an out take from Edna The Inebriate Woman; The Musical.

Thea Gilmore is a decent singer and has added music to Sandy’s lost lyrics; all pleasant enough, but not brilliant. PP Arnold was brilliant; her soulful, gospel voice shouldn’t have worked in a folk setting, but it did. Her healthy demeanour certainly acted as a decent counterpoint to Dave Swarbrick, famously announced as dead by The Telegraph in 1999, though his fiddle playing is still awesome at the least. Green Gartside has travelled a long way from Skank Bloc Bologna to Next Time Around, but he didn’t do a bad job. The best laugh was double bass player Ben Nicholls strapping on a 5 string banjo and doing a rockabilly version of Matty Groves; Fairport absolutists would have been aghast!!

Unsurprisingly, Lavinia was the star of the show; her take on Late November was almost as much of a highlight as the whole cast on stage doing a closing Who Knows Where The Time Goes? It was joyful, it was brilliant and it made up for the uneven quality of material and performers. In short, it was a brave night and a brilliant idea that served as a fitting tribute to the late Sandy Denny.

So , there we go; other than Euros Childs in September, the Weddoes in November and possibly Christy Moore on Saturday, this is where the music stops… until I tell you about Cornelius Cardew, Pecker Dunn or Godspeed You! Black Emperor.

Amateur Pragmatics

The curtain comes down on the 2011/2012 season on Saturday 26th May, with the Tyneside Amateur League Selcray Bowl Final at Percy Main, between Longbenton and West Jesmond. Here's an article I've penned for the programme -:

Speaking personally, I’m delighted that the Tyneside Amateur League has decided to visit us here at Percy Main for both the Tyneside amateur Shield and Selcray Bowl finals, as not only do I get the chance to watch football right up until the end of May (though I’ve trips to Ireland, for Shamrock Rovers versus Cork City and Scotland, for Shotts Bon Accord versus an opposition yet to be determined, planned for June to keep my interest in the beautiful game at the required level of unhealthy obsession), but also because I’m keen to see more Tyneside Amateur games. The only experience I’ve had of this League was High Howdon 2 West Jesmond 11, on the Astroturf at Churchill School back in February, when a hard frost put paid to every other game in the area. Despite the arctic temperatures, I enjoyed the goalfest immensely and, to return the favour for his company that day, I’ve agreed to pen a few words about the Northern Alliance for your esteemed editor and Tyneside Amateur League Press Officer Paul Mosley.

My interest in the Alliance is predominantly related to my club Percy Main Amateurs, about whom I published a book entitled “Village Voice” (copies available from me for £5 or email me at iancusack@blueyonder.co.uk for details) and for whom I act as Assistant Secretary and canteen operative, though I’m writing this article in a personal capacity. However, I am passionate about the quality and integrity of the Northern Alliance, preferring it to all other versions of football I see on a regular basis, which also includes at least a dozen games a season at St. James’ Park. Consequently I’ll do anything I can to praise the competition to outsiders.

I may be naïve in this next statement, but my assumption is that all teams and players wish to test themselves by competing at the highest possible level. This means that sides in the Corinthian, North Northumberland and Tyneside Amateur may ultimately wish to progress in to the Alliance, which is why there have been 9 applicants for next season. The ideal capacity of the Alliance is seen as being 48 clubs in 3 divisions; in 2011/2012, there were 43 clubs as season’s end, in a slightly unwieldy and imbalanced 16-11-16 split. Of those 43 clubs, 2 have resigned and are presumably about to enter the Wearside League, namely Murton who finished bottom of the Premier Division and Harton & Westoe, who finished 4^th in Division 2. This would suggest there are 7 vacancies and that a large number of clubs will be promoted from Division 2 to bring a seriously under populated Division 1 that lost Berwick United, Newcastle East End, Stobswood and Wark to oblivion and Peterlee to the Wearside League back to full strength. However, all such speculation will be answered in due course at the Alliance AGM and so it seems more fitting to concentrate on the season just ending rather than idly muse over the future composition of the league.

The Champions of the Premier Division, by 3 points over Hebburn Reyrolle, were Heaton Stannington, who deservedly brought the title to Grounsell Park after a season of glorious attacking football. Hopefully the championship will make up for their disappointment at losing the Challenge (Divisional) Cup on penalties to Whitley Bay A after a thrilling 2-2 draw on May Day Monday at Amberley Park in Killingworth. At the same time, Hebburn Reyrolle’s title chances ended when Percy Main visited the South Tyneside outfit and beat them 2-1 at home, in a fully merited victory. This was Percy Main’s best result of a season that ended encouragingly, though we will hope to push on from 10^th spot next year.

Other Premier Division winners included Seaton Delaval Amateurs, who capped a fine first season under Mick Jeffels by overcoming Ashington Colliers 3-1 in the George Dobbins League Cup at Bedlington Terriers’ Doctor Pit Welfare Park. Finally Killingworth YPC captured the Northumberland FA Senior Benevolent Bowl with a victory over Prudhoe Town of the Wearside League on penalties after 120 scintillating minutes of ebb and flow football. This result, welcome though it was, does not finally settle the argument as to which league is the stronger, as Prudhoe had cruised past Stocksfield and then Heaton Stannington, both by the decidedly one-sided margin of 4-0, to get to the final.

Division 1 belonged to Amble United. Despite the shortfall in members, the Northumberland side were a credit to the competition and deservedly won the treble, finishing 6 points above Wallsend Town in second and 11 points clear of third placed Wallington. In addition, Amble won the Combination (Divisional) Cup by defeating Wallsend Town 1-0 in the final at Woodhorn Lane, ashington and the Subsidiary Cup, with a 4-2 victory over a spirited Newcastle University side here at Purvis Park, in a game that went to extra time. Amazingly Amble could have been the first side to go through a Northern Alliance season undefeated in the 123 years of the competition’s existence, but missed out on this by losing 2-0 at home in their final game to mid-table Heddon. The other winners of silverware were Wallington, who thumped Chemfica 6-2 in the Northumberland FA Minor Cup at Blue Flames, on an absolutely freezing Friday night in the middle of May.

Hexham were Division 2 champions. The side from the Wentworth Stadium overcame long term front runners Red House Farm by winning their games in hand at the end of the season. As has already been pointed out, a lack of teams in the division above as well as the imminent departure of Harton & Westoe means that several other second division sides could be sweating on promotion; Carlisle Northbank in third, Bedlington Terriers in fifth and sixth placed Whickham Lang Jacks are all on amber alert for unexpected elevation.

Also in Division 2, Whickham Lang Jacks won the Amateur (Divisional) Cup 2-1 against Willington Quay Saints at Derwenthaugh Park in Swalwell, after the first game had been abandoned with the scoreline level after an injury to a Willington player. One final piece of silverware was the Bill Gardner Memorial Trophy, which was won by Wallsend Town, 2-0 over Bedlington Terriers Reserves at Seaton Delaval on Easter Monday.

So, it seems that the season was a good one, with 9 sides winning trophies. Obviously the sides of the season were Heaton Stannington and Amble United, but even poor old Cramlington United, who finished bottom of Division 2 with a paltry 5 points, contributed plenty to the football competition I value above all others. If your team is to join the Alliance, remember the history and treat acceptance as an honour!!

Writers For Robson

Today I played in a 5-5 draw between Bloggers & Football Journalists. I didn't do bad. The game raised £500 for the Sir Bobby Robson Foundation. Here's an article I penned for the programme.

I turn 48 in less than 3 months’ time, which probably makes you wonder just why I’m attempting to impersonate a goalkeeper here today. The fact is I still enjoy a game of 11 a side every Saturday morning, as my playing career, such as it is, is being painfully elongated and unnecessarily prolonged in Division 4 of the North East over 40s League with the shambolic outfit known as Heaton Winstons. We’ve just completed another bloody awful season. So why on earth do I still do it? Basically, I love football; from Winstons to my Assistant Secretarial duties at Percy Main in the Northern Alliance to every Newcastle United home game that’s not on a Saturday (The Main must come first), to random and indeed unnecessary acts of groundhopping around the very base of the non-league pyramid on Tyneside, my life is, to an almost ridiculous degree, governed by the beautiful game.

Frankly, I will make no apology for that; it is my DNA I suppose. This is why I’m so honoured to have been asked to take part in this game. Despite an inflexible Marxist ideological standpoint, that would ordinarily require me to state, without equivocation, that charitable donations are a sop to Capitalism, I am deeply appreciative of the fact I’m here today, trying to raise money for the Sir Bobby Robson Foundation, especially in relation to the work they do at the Freeman Hospital, which is literally around the corner from where I live in High Heaton, though the connection I feel for the place is more emotional than geographical.

Through visiting the Freeman, I first became aware of the Sir Bobby Robson Foundation in the summer of 2009. On May 1st that year my late father, Eddy Cusack, was sadly diagnosed with cancer and spent his last months in the Freeman, dying the day after Sir Bobby, on 1st August. Every day for the time it took my dad to die, I visited him, passing the Sir Bobby Robson Foundation entrance as I made my way to and from the ward Dad was on. It left an indelible impression; every Saturday morning that Winstons played a home game at Paddy Freeman’s playing fields opposite the hospital, my heart lurched at the memory of two men I respected so much, who died within a day of each other. Having lost a loved one to the terrible illness that is Cancer, I know just how imperative it is we raise money to research in to cures for it. Never mind politics, this is personal.

My dad was a year younger than the great man and, like him, a lifelong Newcastle United fan. The old fella’s 40th birthday celebrations involved the 4-3 cup game against Forest on March 9th 1974 (he wasn’t on the pitch, but family lore says my Uncle Brian was, dressed in a long leather car coat that made him look like a trainee body double for Rodney Bewes in The Likely Lads), though Eddy attended games infrequently after Joe Harvey was sacked in 1975. It was his way of protesting at the unfair way Joe Harvey was treated, though Dad was delighted when Sir Bobby came home to take the helm at SJP in September 1999; I remember the joy he felt when attending an unremarkable 2-2 draw with Ipswich for his 69th birthday in March 2003, taking my son Ben, who was aged only 7 at the time. Though none of us were to know it, this was to be my dad’s last Newcastle game in the flesh. The terrible thing about relegation in 2009 was that the last competitive game during Sir Bobby and Eddy’s lives was the awful 1-0 loss at Villa Park that sealed the club’s fate. How they would both rejoice at next season’s return to Europe with Pardew’s stylish side.

Dad’s disgust at Joe Harvey’s treatment was mirrored by how he saw the removal from post of Sir Bobby in 2004. I think it was from that point I became utterly disillusioned with Newcastle United and disengaged from them for almost 7 years as I pursued my love of non-league football. Through my involvement with the Northern League, I got to meet Sir Bobby once, at Tow Law in July 1999 at the launch of Martin and Denise Howarth’s estimable Northern League Club. Northern League Chairman Mike Amos had invited the usual collection of zealots and social inadequates who make up a large proportion of the groundhopping fraternity for a midweek launch of this project at Ironworks Road. On a sunny Wednesday afternoon, member number 1 was unveiled as Langley Park’s foremost son. Sir Bobby gave a brilliant, impassioned speech about the north east, football and local pride that drew warm, spontaneous applause.

In the bar afterwards, he said his farewells, commenting how he’d love to spend more time back in the north east but effectively regarded Ipswich as his home. Cheekily I responded that he shouldn’t count his chickens or assume he was in retirement just yet, as the pitiful job Ruud Gullit was making of things; there was every chance he’d be in the Newcastle hot seat before the autumn. At this, Sir Bobby, clasped his hand on my left shoulder (I can still almost feel the downward pressure of his palm), stared in to the middle distance and smilingly said “you never know what’s around the corner kid.” Three months later, a suicide note of a team selection on a rainy Tyneside night saw Sir Bobby’s wish and my prediction come true.

Perhaps the only other link I have to Sir Bobby takes us back to where we came in; the deeply talentless Heaton Winstons FC. Having struggled past Deneside Catholic Club in the first round of the Villa Real Cup (they only had 9 men) in September 2007, we found ourselves drawn away to Langley Park Ram’s Head. They were 2 divisions above us and we expected a chasing. However, on the day we acquitted ourselves fairly well, losing 4-2; I’ll hold my hands up for the third. I should have come for the cross instead of standing rooted to my line. Our manager bellowed “what the hell were you doing? Admiring the scenery?”

Seemingly the decrepit ground, with a potholed pitch, dismantled dugouts, broken railings and a tumbledown set of changers, had nothing to recommend it, other than an unimpeded view of Diggerland, west Durham’s primary hands-on adventure park. However, I knew (we all did) this was the former home of Langley Park, the team where it all began for Sir Bobby. You had to take in the view; to drink deeply from the ambience.

I was honoured to play on that pitch, same as I’m honoured to play on this one. I may not be any good, but I love the game and I’ll do my best to keep a clean sheet, but that matters little compared to the act of raising some money for Sir Bobby’s Foundation. It isn’t much, but it’s the best I can do.

The Main Man

Saturday 19th May marks the occasional of a testimonial at Purvis Park for Percy Main legend Tony Browell, who has amassed the incredible total of 500 games for the Villagers. Typically enough, the bloke is not taking a penny from today's game, but is instead donating every penny made to our replace the roof fund. Here's an article I wrote for the programme.

Despite having seen my first game at Purvis Park back in May 2005 (a 3-2 loss to Heaton Stannington), I’m a relative newcomer to these parts. In point of fact, the first game I can recall watching as an actual supporter of Percy Main Amateurs, rather than as a sad groundhopper, would have been a 7-6 win on penalties after a 2-2 draw against Westerhope, in the Combination Cup on 17^th November 2007, which probably marks me out as something of a glory hunter I’d imagine.

To be frank, I recall that game indistinctly; a decisive winning penalty stroked home in near darkness at the cricket pitch end by the legendary Gary “The Tank" Wigglesworth is about my only clear memory of the day. The statistics tell us that the Main’s goals were notched by Stephen Black and Michael Dibie, but I’ve no memory of either of those strikes.  

However, the long term significance of that day is not that it gave us the opportunity to be knocked out 2-0 away to Gosforth Bohemians in a desperate game the following February, but that it marked the day when the man who we’re here today to pay tribute to, returned to Percy Main Amateurs after a period of time spent with our neighbours North Shields. In the subsequent 5 years, Tony has been the most constant and consistent factor in the club’s steady improvement on the pitch, so I’d like to spend a bit of time recording my observations of Tony from a fan’s perspective.

I think the main qualities that would be associated with Tony, both as a player and a man, are reliability, honesty, tenacity and bravery. While Percy Main players, from the classy to the completely incompetent, come and go (69 of them in the season just ended for instance), Tony is the equivalent of the ravens at the Tower of London transplanted to the Northern Alliance; as long as he’s here, the Villagers will never be in trouble!

There are many aspects to Tony’s game and time with Percy Main that deserve to be commented on. The 2010/2011 season that saw our return to the Northern Alliance Premier Division was notable for Tony’s incredible early season hot streak in front of goal, when he banged in 6 strikes in his first 5 games; not bad for a centre half. Also, almost incredibly considering his position on the pitch, he went through the whole of 2010/2011 without being booked, especially considering some of his erstwhile team mates were working overtime to pay off the fines they’d accrued by having their name taken. Typically enough, Tony managed to have his name taken in the first game of 2011/2012, away to Carlisle City, though equally typically, he coughed up his fine immediately, rather than having to be chased to pay like so many other players have to be.

Perhaps the reason he doesn’t get booked isn’t just to do with his style of play but because, unlike so many others we’ve had here over the years, Tony doesn’t lose his temper when things aren’t going well. He hates losing, but he understands defeat is part of the game. Indeed, perhaps the angriest I’ve seen him was away to Ashington Colliers in October 2010. Having seen us turn a single goal deficit in to a winning 2-1 position with a couple of quick goals, the home side lost their heads and started trying to kick anything above ankle height. One particularly nasty tackle on Mickey Haley, which resulted in the perpetrator seeing red for a second yellow, saw Tony absolutely furious with the dismissed player, reminding him that lads at the Alliance level don’t get paid and that injuries can mean time off work with a resultant loss of pay. It’s particularly important to remember that the offender’s first yellow that day had been for an even more brutal assault on Tony in the first half, but typically enough Tony had just got up and taken the free kick after that one.

If that incident showed Tony’s concern for his team mates, then what about this one? In our promotion season of 2009/2010, exactly a year before the Ashington game, we were away to Peterlee on a particularly filthy afternoon, on the fringe of the North Sea. The rain was torrential and the wind almost gale force. Playing in to the elements in the first period, we’d had a nightmare, as the home side had made full use of the conditions to open up a 2-0 lead at the break. The management and many of the players at the time had a competitive streak that touched on petulance when things went against them. Despite the fact we’d not tasted defeat since mid-August, this state of affairs was unacceptable to several of the squad; hence the half time whistle sounded amid a chorus of oaths, invective and petulance.

As the rest of the team skulked or flounced to the changers, Tony went back to the away dug out, retrieved the water bottles and medical kit, and then went inside. He knew the game was only halfway through and that, regardless of the reactions, there was still 45 minutes to play; players needed rehydration (strangely enough considering it had been slinging it down all game) and possible muscle spray.

I’d like to think that his concern for the broader picture was part of the reason why the second half saw an incredible change of fortune; the rain stopped, the wind strengthened behind our backs and Percy Main banged in 4 unanswered goals to take the points and keep our promotion bandwagon on track.

Of all of the memories I have of Tony, the heroic tackles, the brave headers, the unending sequence of close range finishes, the one that sums up his importance to the club for me, is the sight of him taking the water bottles in to the changing rooms at Peterlee. Truly, this was the ultimate selfless act of the dedicated club man. Enjoy your day (and night) Tony; you’ve totally deserved it.

Fifth Top Mags

Before the 2011/2012 came to a close, the last time Newcastle United ended a Premier League season with an away defeat was the infamous 1-0 loss at Villa Park on May 24th 2009 that signalled the preventable fiasco of relegation had actually taken place. In many ways, it is a great shame Aston Vile didn’t befall the same fate after their 2-0 away capitulation to Norwich on May 13th 2012; in fact Joey Barton’s Etihad cameo (of which more later) probably resulted in Villa finishing in a lofty 16th, rather than a spot above the drop zone, which would have been on goal difference only, if Stoke hadn’t ironically raised the spectre of Nat Lofthouse from the grave to score against Bolton, courtesy of a forearm smash by Jonathon Walters.

Back to Newcastle United; I didn’t see the great failure at Villa 3 years ago as I was at a Newcastle Central Sunday Afternoon League Final at Percy Main then, which is where I was again for the climax of this season, meaning I missed our poor farewell on Merseyside. Perhaps this was just one game too many. Being realistic, there’s little to be gained from dissecting the loss to a reasonably handy Scouse Mackems side, which finished the season in impressive nick. Regardless of our result at Goodison, 5th place was nailed on; in the end victories for both Spurs and Arsenal (Martin Fulop; I ask you…) rendered everything irrelevant anyway. There is the sense of relief that the 93rd minute winner The Arse got against us back in March didn’t count for much (other than assuring them of third spot); if we’d held on for a point at the Emirates and not tossed away 2 points against Wolves, we’d still only have ended up 5th. In short, there was no simple formula to explain why we didn’t get in to the Champions’ League, other than the fact we’re not good enough. To try and wish for more than 2 results to have changed is getting in to the realms of fantasy. Let’s deal with reality instead.

Any Newcastle fan who’d predicted last August that we would have been in with a realistic shout of third place on the final day would have been derided as delusional, with good reason. Let us not forget; the pre-season friendly with Fiorentina and opening day stalemate with Arsenal were suggested by some infantile hotheads as the time and place for a “Toon Poznan” protest against Ashley, though how a series of random, unconnected individuals in disparate parts of the ground pogoing with their backs to the pitch at half time would have achieved regime change is beyond me.

In actual fact, the uneasy truce between a still simmering fan base, with a few notable Saul on the road to Damscus converts (such as Lord Hill from The Ministry of Trufth) and the still widely derided and deeply mistrusted ownership, has seen a season that has been remarkably enjoyable for the most part, though with the usual collection of sledgehammer blows on the way. I’m not saying it is certain that we’ll maintain this relatively exalted position in the future; certainly Chelsea and Liverpool have to be better than this season (as well as Villa, who sacked the hapless McLeish the day after the season ended). By qualifying for the Europa League, we have given ourselves the big ask of either 2 or 8 extra midweek games before Christmas, which will examine the depth of the squad.

What Newcastle does have is a bloody good first team, which still needs a pair of full backs, a centre half and another midfielder to augment the team enough to call it a squad, and that is before any of the top notch players are sold.While everything is speculation at the minute, I feel that Demba Ba and possibly Cheik Tiote will leave, but don’t see any of the other jewels (Krul, Coloccini, Ben Arfa or Cisse) being sold just yet. Undoubtedly, we will see the back of Smith, Lovenkrands and Guthrie on free transfers; the first of those is a blessed relief, the second goes with all our good wishes and the third is a shame as he’s a good squad midfielder. Rumoured to be surplus to requirements are Leon Best (nice lad, honest pro, but very limited), Nile Ranger (the diametric opposite of Leon Best, personality wise) and Danny Simpson (foolish and arrogant enough to believe he deserves more than £20k per week).  I’d guess Steve Harper will hang around the place as a kind of sporting Father of the House, as he heads towards twenty years on the payroll. Quite where this leaves the sublime skills of Francisco Jimenez Tejada (and I don’t mean my mother’s late dog) is beyond me. I doubt even Xisco knows….

Obviously, in addition to the playing squad, we have the Manager of the Year and a superb scouting system; let’s hope they continue to perform wonders next year. But if we don’t come out the blocks like Ato Boldon, let’s show a bit of patience. This isn’t Party with Marty, which can be summarised as 2 less points and three places lower than the season before, but with a 2 point cushion over Wigan. Of course, Martin O’Neill hasn’t turned in to a bad manager overnight; he’s been shit ever since he left Celtic (just check Villa’s accounts if you don’t believe me). Remember, we are Newcastle, so we’ll stay United. The season is done and it was a good one for us; for me personally, I saw 12 games (the most in 4 seasons), from 7 different seats in all 4 stands, garnering 7 wins, 3 draws and 2 defeats. While I had a good campaign, fairly obviously, it was a brilliant one for Manchester City.

I don’t like Massive Club citeh and their legendary 3,007 fans, but having seen their team up close from a seat in Bar 1892 (more comfortable than my own sofa), I can appreciate just how good they are. While Nasri and Tevez were snide and effete, Yaya Toure and Vincent Kompany were absolutely immense; literal and figurative colossuses who magisterially bestrode the St. James’ Park pitch, utterly negating the influence of our previously irrepressible front three and redoubtable midfield pairing. From my lofty, privileged perch, I felt an acute sense of embarrassment as Graham Danby droned through The Blaydon Races; surely this anachronistic dirge needs to be replaced as club anthem? It may reflect our history, like a musical Beamish Museum, but it tells nothing of the multi-ethnic, multi-cultural nature of our team, our city and our support. Let’s move with the times. On the pitch, they deserved to beat us, but that didn’t stop me having a fine day out.

Several fine ales in The Bodega (in the company of seemingly all 3,007 Young Kennys, who were mute while the bar cheered on Man United v Swansea, out of badness more than any affection) and Newcastle Arms, as well as a sickly can of cider in the sticky floored Cosmic Ballroom, acted as a prelude to my shambling round the Ouseburn. Once I reached The Cumberland, I was finished; a festival of Morris Dancing with a Ceilidh band provided me with a little entertainment, but more was to be had from a gang of three quarters drunk blokes in their 30s, who kept up a constant rendition of The Rizzlekicks’ Get Down With The Trumpets, as the diddly dee gang fiddled and sawed away.  One last pint and I was away; sometimes you know when enough is enough. Joey Barton, of course doesn’t know that.

I’d taken a radio with me to Percy Main, to keep myself and the rest of the punters updated on The Premiership and FA Vase (well done Dunston incidentally). The 2.30 kick off for Hazelrigg Victoria and Byker Quay Club meant I was alone in a deserted club house as citeh struck twice, in Fergie time ironically enough, to win the title. Seeing the celebrations on television, on the flint hearted would have denied them this triumph. However, one wonders just how much Barton’s meltdown influenced the course of the game; an elbow, a kick and a head-butt were each worth a red card. Add to that his attempt to attack Balotelli (typically I suppose) and the post-game Twitter explosion and we’ll be lucky to see him playing much before Christmas once the FA have finished with him, especially when you recall Cabaye got a three match ban because of a barely discernible tautening of the facial muscles.

I must just say that Barton is right about Alan Shearer; he recognises Shearer’s talent on the pitch, but fingers his extraordinary dullness as a pundit and atrocious managerial skills. Cavalier Joey is normally wrong and repulsive, but today he’s right, while roundhead Al is simply tedious. Yet it is with Alan Shearer and Kevin Keegan that lays the crux of the biggest conundrum about Mike Ashley for Newcastle United fans. The departures of Keegan, Hughton and to a much lesser extent Shearer from the SJP hot-seat have had fans up in arms and foaming at the mouth. Yet, by extraordinary luck or more probably, ruthless judgement, Newcastle United have emerged as a far better side than at any time in the last decade.

What happens now? Who knows; it’s all speculation anyway, but it almost certainly won’t be dull as Shearer’s shirts or Keegan’s commentary.

United 100%

First published in issue #9 of toon talk in May 2012

I’m writing this the day after I witnessed Hatem Ben Arfa scoring our first against Bolton, which was undoubtedly one of the ten best goals ever seen at St. James’ Park. Unfortunately the tight deadline for this issue means I have to jot these thoughts when there are still 5 games to play, so in many ways, what I’ve got to say is pure speculation. Having won five on the bounce at the time of writing, the unnatural blind optimist within me says we could very well continue on with that glorious form in the remaining fixtures and reach the Champions’ League at season’s end, though the natural pessimist in my head gloomily concludes we could very well blow up, lose the lot and limp home in 6^th spot, without the consolation of even Europa League Thursdays to look forward to next season. However, I really don’t think it matters all that much where we end up, bearing in the context of what I’m going to say.

Despite the fact, I simply don’t trust the so-called owners of my club on any level; this has been a wonderful season, made all the more glorious by the utterly unexpected heights we’ve reached on the pitch. That said, a football club isn’t just about the results on the field of play; it’s about culture, mood, and ambience; and in Newcastle United’s sake, being the unifying fulcrum for our city and the region as a whole. Unlike certain others among our support, who’ve allowed a day’s work experience to turn their heads, consequently enabling them to shift their opinions 180 degrees regarding Ashley and Llambias without batting an eyelid, I’m not convinced there won’t be another public relations fiasco or a flurry of big money departures this summer.

Those of us with decent short term memories won’t readily accept the worth of those men who have overseen the dispersal of the Level 7 singing section and the subsequent, vindictive hassle these fans got in their new berths and boltholes, not to mention the sacrilegious denial of 120 years of history over the ground’s name, as well as the mean, petty minded removal of the St. James’ Park signs and the unnecessary plastering of tacky, tawdry adverts all over the stands. Do not be fooled; this club should belong 100% to the fans. One day it will; until then, it is beholden to us all to remain in a state of high vigilance as regards the conduct of these faceless, unaccountable men in suits. Our love for our club must compel them to be accountable.

However, on the pitch, things simply could not be better. Last August, I simply could not have believed I would have written such a sentence without a whole barrowful of irony ladled on top. The departures of Carroll, Nolan, Barton and Enrique, other than in the case of the last named, have not weakened the club’s playing staff at all. Indeed their departures, as well as the disappearance of Smith and Harper, with presumably Lovenkrands as well, has enabled the club to move on upwards and onwards at a greater pace and with a higher trajectory than any of us could ever have dared hope.

While the culling of a whole generation of fringe and reserve players is a troubling indictment of exactly what has gone on regarding the youth development policy at the club, there is absolutely no doubt that Ben Arfa’s wizardry, Cisse’s goals and workrate, Ba’s astonishing scoring burst, Cabaye’s artistry, Tiote’s strength, Colo’s assured and masterful defending, Jonas’s spirit, Tim’s reflexes, Ryan Taylor over the wall, Danny Simpson off the line, Steven Taylor before his injury, Shola versus Spurs and the Mackems (not to mention that cross for Cisse versus Bolton; how good?), even Danny Guthrie’s understated professionalism and the glorious late flowering of Perchino, as well as Santon’s assured cameos, have all contributed to the best season in a decade. All of these lads have been utterly and completely outstanding for Newcastle United at various points of this season. This is why, when you’re asked who your player of the season is, I strongly urge every single one of you to state, without equivocation, “all of them.” The whole lot of them have been heroes for almost all the time; sure the level of form and fitness has dropped at times, with Colo and Tiote having stinkers home to WBA and Demba Ba’s season being bookended by frustrating inconsistency for instance, but the great and glorious thing about this current squad is that every single one of them have been prepared to pick up the baton when required. They have all rolled up their sleeves and grafted whenever it has been necessary and that is as great a compliment to them, to Alan Pardew, his coaching team and the genius Graham Carr, assisted by his squad of scouts, as I could possibly pay.

Of course, the irony is that this club had to touch bottom 3 years ago for such progress to have been made possible at all. Never mind the relegation at Villa Park, that was only the start of the problems; once dross like Viduka, Owen, Martins and the rest of the mercenary prima donnas had been cleared from the decks, it took the 6-1 savaging at Orient in July 2009 to finally make them stand up and be counted. Chris Hughton is a good man and I sincerely hope he gets Birmingham, a club I’ve never previously had any time for, promoted, at the expense of West Ham, a club I’ve gone off very rapidly since they appointed the charlatan with the Blue Tooth headset as their boss. What Hughton oversaw at Newcastle United should never be forgotten; the fabulous promotion season and some stunning, morally cleansing wins at SJP over Villa and the Mackems will stay with us all forever. However, and this isn’t a criticism, while he managed the club, he didn’t really lead us forward once we’d been promoted. We didn’t stagnate as such, but there wasn’t the momentum surrounding the squad that is easily discerned now.

It was a harsh decision and a sad day when Chris Hughton was let go, but hindsight shows us it was both necessary and beneficial for the greater good of Newcastle United. Alan Pardew arrived on Tyneside with an atrocious reputation and an utter lack of goodwill. However, and I speak as someone who found him initially to be a smarmy, glib egotist, he has proved 50,000 matchgoers and every single armchair fan across the nation, to be completely wrong. While Chris Hughton was the shop steward promoted from the ranks who embraced principles of democratic centralism to bring the club back from the precipice in a superb example of teamwork, Pardew is a tactical genius and above all, the boss; unequivocally so.

In short, the “group of lads” who played for us from 2009 to 2011worked for Chris Hughton as they admired him and didn’t want to let anyone down, whereas the current squad believe in Alan Pardew and have been inspired by him to strive to produce more and more quality in their performances. We can only speculate as to where this will lead us, but I’ve never felt this good about our team since the 5-1 thrashing we handed out to Blackburn (managed by Souness of course) in March 2003. A note of caution should be sounded here; the next home game saw Man United clatter us 6-2 and we never again hit those heights under Sir Bobby.

Like you, I’d never heard of any of the players we’ve brought in over the past couple of seasons, certainly since promotion. However, in Carr and in Pardew I trust; while we may see some leave, I truly believe we will see those of equal ability arrive. It is with this in mind and with full gratitude for all we’ve seen in 2011/2012 that I again urge you to nominate every single one of the first team squad as our player of the season.

The Glittering Prizes

For the second Saturday running, things got off to a bloody awful start. Heaton Winstons’ season of struggle careered dismally onwards, as we put in our worst showing this year, with a 4-0 thrashing away to bottom side Hartlepool Camerons. It was one of those games where everything was wrong from the outset; we travelled with 13, including 2 keepers and the changing rooms were out of commission, so we had to get changed in a pub, meaning there were no showers afterwards. The whole lot of us had turned up expecting to win and our complacency was ruthlessly exposed from the outset. Personally, I had a nightmare; from kick off, my feet were always in the wrong place, I struggled with angles and collecting the ball, then let in a soft one at the near post for the second, made a hideous rick for the third when coming for a ball I had no chance of getting, before capping it all by standing still waiting in vain for a whistle, as they waltzed in a blatantly offside third. Horrible.

The post-match bait was late and lousy in the pub, while I got in to a row with one of their lads about the nonsensical idea that promotion for Burragh would be “good for the region.” He was a Hartlepool fan who obviously didn’t relish a local derby in 2013/2014 with the Foam Handed Face Painters. Undoubtedly the highlight of my day was hearing about Cardiff’s win and the Smogs’ loss. In all seriousness, it appears that 1986 is here again for Bearny’s Burragh; it seems certain Mowbray will be back to West Brom to replace Hodgson before the month is out and Gibson is clearly fed up of bankrolling a club that has no significant support. In all seriousness, with the Huns a heartbeat from liquidation, what are the chances of my two least favourite teams in the entire world reforming under the joint flag of convenience of Teesside Rangers, then battling to avoid the drop in to League 1 next season? I’d like to think so.

Anyway, once we’d made it back up the A19 and I’d set my kit away to wash, it was time to see some real football. I biked it up to Heaton Stannington to see them pulverise Killingworth 5-0, meaning they only need 6 points for the northern alliance Premier Division title and I sincerely hope they win it. The young strike pairing for The Stann (good enough to keep Gary Yates out of the 16) tortured a toothless Killi, who were without the always dangerous Michael Bowman. Obviously Grounsell Park wouldn’t be good enough to get in the Northern League, but it is great to see the local sides doing well.

With Alliance games kicking off at 2.30, I still had the chance of another thirty minutes of quality football once this one came to a conclusion. Eschewing the long hike up to Blue Flames, where West Allotment helped Easington CW back down in to the Wearside League with an 8-4 trouncing, I headed for Coach Lane and Team Northumbria’s final league fixture of the season, versus Whitehaven. I’ve kept a keen eye on Team Northumbria since they arrived in the Northern League, taking in their first home game with Guisborough (lost 1-0 and I missed the goal accompanying Ben to the netty) back in August 2006. Geographically, they are my closest NL side and their preference for Monday night games means I can wander down there and take in the second half on those occasions, after my regular 6 a side game. It’s always a pleasure to watch them pass the ball around on a good surface; so unlike much of the thud and blunder that characterises the Northern League’s second flight.

Team North were winning 2-0 when I arrived on Saturday and that was the final score. Unlike on a Monday, when the curious and the lonely head for Coach Lane in their almost droves and swell the gate to three figures, the crowd was pitiful. You can forgive the visitors, a bunch of decent young lads looking forward to a night on the lash down the Quayside to end their season with a touch of glamour, for not bringing many over from the west coast, but it seemed the football fans of High Heaton and Benton had opted either for The Stann (where the crowd nudged 200) or to take in Newcastle’s thumping at Wigan on satellite TV in The Newton or Black Bull. The Northern League Chairman Mike Amos was there, to present the Division 2 trophy to the victorious home team. They deserved it as well; every time I’ve seen Team North they’ve played excellent, pacey, one touch football on the deck; it’s not quite tiki taka with A levels, but it’ll be enough to get them top 6 in division 1 next year I’ll warrant.

I must confess that I spurned a golden opportunity to throw a monumental spanner in the works of the Northern League. At full time, as Mike Amos readied himself to present the trophy, his mobile went off. He handed it to me, announcing I had to speak to League committee member Brian Mulligan who was calling from Ashington, where the Colliers had beaten West Auckland 3-1. West would have been champions if they’d won and would still have been if Spennymoor and Dunston had lost. A quick check on Twitter had already told me they’d both won; but rather than passing on duff information, as I was tempted to, which would have resulted in a false presentation at Woodhorn Lane, I told the truth. On Monday night, Spennymoor beat Dunston 1-0 to take the League title for the third consecutive year.

It isn’t the end of the line for Dunston, who have finished third, as they’ve the FA Vase final against West Auckland at Wembley on May 13th.  West Auckland also have the Northern League Cup in their sights, having reached the final by defeating Bedlington Terriers in the first semi-final. The other semi-final features Spennymoor, who are looking for the double, though first they have to negotiate a tricky tie away to Team Northumbria this Saturday.

Unquestionably, the Northern League team of the season is Team Northumbria. In addition to the Northern League Division 2 title and the possibility of lifting the League Cup, they also reached the final of the Northumberland Senior Cup at St. James’ on Monday gone.

The two most prevalent themes involving Team Northumbria are great football and appalling attendances. Presumably because of the competing attraction on Monday night (I mean the Manc derby not Spenny v Dunston), a disgustingly meagre 739 managed to bother their arses to see a thoroughly entertaining 4-4 draw between a collection of financially secure young men with no discernible prospects in the professional game and a squad of keen, talented and Level 3 qualified amateurs, that Newcastle ended up winning 4-2 on penalties. I’m glad I saw it and I’m sorry Team North didn’t win. There may be no atmosphere at their games, but they are a side well worth watching. Sadly it seems their backlog of games may be catching up on them, as they lost the Ernest Armstrong Cup final 3-2 to Northallerton Town on Wednesday.

Best of luck against Spennymoor lads!!