Park Life

The full time whistle at Hannah Park on Saturday 9^th June saw Girvan players prostrate themselves across the turf in paroxysms of agony at their unfortunate relegation, while the Shotts Bon Accord team celebrated their victory with clenched fist salutes and a profound, yet manly, group hug. Of course a single goal defeat at Thorniewood on the Monday and a stalemate in their final game at Rutherglen Glencairn (that isn’t a typing error) meant Shotts came up short and handed the West Superleague First Division title to Glenafton Athletic after all, but my day out in Lanarkshire did serve to end the domestic season for 2011/2012 in the tumultuous fashion that is the wont of Scottish Juniors football, or at least my experience of it.

Moving forward, the obvious question posed by the ending of the domestic football calendar was just exactly what was I going to do with my leisure time, especially on Saturdays, before the round of pre season friendlies begin in mid July. Most people would probably keep one eye on the papers and internet to see for news of Newcastle United, though I’d regard that as a fruitless exercise fit only for the most desperate of scandalmongers, as the essentially secret nature of the club’s dealings in the transfer market these past 5 seasons has meant that all surprise entrances and exits, both pleasant and unpleasant, have come completely out of the blue. Thus all idle speculation about the club’s intentions is precisely that; idle speculation.

Obviously, for the Carling and sofa tendency, there is the semi important matter of the European Championships unfolding in Poland and Ukraine, though to preview or review the tournament in any great detail would be an unhelpful act on my behalf, as the sheer weight of verbiage spewed forth about the tournament means that any new comments must be both insightful and original; two qualities my writing may always aspire to but rarely achieves.  To be frank, though I’ve not seen all the games (I missed France’s opener as I was at work, while a riotous night on the gargle down the Ouseburn stopped me from taking in Sweden’s second match), I’ve enjoyed almost of all I’ve seen. Sad to see Russia going out, but fair play to the Czechs for coming back from such a battering in the opening game. In addition, Ireland’s performances (and I’m writing this in advance of the final game against Italy) have been the cause of great sadness for me. To be frank, the squad is the weakest one of the 16 qualifiers, but the shameful spectacle of an ageing, washed-up Shay Given conceding the sort of soft goals I let in at 6 a side, is almost too tragic for words. We’ll leave it there eh?

Instead, let us return to the mantra; “football always lets you down, but music never does.” Bearing this in mind, Saturday 16^th June, as well as being Bloomsday, was dedicated to music on my part. Last October, Hazel Plater and Carl Taylor published their book about Newcastle’s premier independent venue Riverside (RIP). I contributed to the book and blogged about it here http://payaso-del-mierda.blogspot.co.uk/2011/10/riverside-remembered.html Since then, Hazel has started her own site (http://www.hazelplater.com/) which includes information about their next project, which is a film about the venue. You can contribute to this very worthy cause by going to http://www.indiegogo.com/rivfilm and pledging what you can. If they raise the money, and I intend to contribute at the top end, the film will get made; otherwise….

On Saturday, I attended a little gathering at Reflex records, where punters from Riverside were to be filmed, saying the name of a favourite band they saw at that venue, to appear as extras on the DVD; I chose Fugazi and was lucky enough to be the first person filmed. As I pointed out in a fortnight ago’s blog, I’m no longer able to amuse myself by wandering around city centres. This was a problem as on Saturday, I’d 2 hours to kill because I wanted to catch one of the free shows that Maximo Park were doing in town. While I like some of what they do, I’m not exactly a devotee of the band, and I seriously wish the singer would take that bloody daft trilby off once in a while, but I have enormous respect for them. Despite none of them coming from Tyneside, they still live and work in Newcastle, making no bones about who they are and how much they love the place; for that we have to admire them. Not only that, but they do their bit for the local music community.

Their Bloomsday had started with an in-store in Stockton at noon, followed by one in sunderland at 2, before the Tyneside triple header. Having been informed by my Ben, who’d just seen them at Evolution the other month, that he was going to see them in both Reflex at 4.30 and Beatdown at 6, it was made clear to me in no uncertain terms that if I wished to see them, I was left with the option of RPM at 3.30, or of doing without.

Leaving Reflex after the filming around 2, I grabbed a coffee and a sandwich then meandered off to RPM, which I discovered had moved from High Bridge opposite the Duke of Wellington, to the alleyway leading from The Old George; in other words, behind the Duke of Wellington. In steady drizzle that occasionally turned in to torrential, driving rain, a crowd was beginning to mass in the courtyard. To be frank, I was the oldest one there by 20 years, but I’m glad to have seen them, even if it was no “Get Back” moment. Of course I’ve seen them before; in 2005 at the Cluny and in 2009, with Ben, at the Academy. It’s impossible to state just how big they are among the soft beer boy tendency; Maximo Park surely are the definitive musical soundtrack of lower middle class academically underachieving call centre employees with pointy shoes and tousled, distressed hair.

The RPM courtyard gig drew, I’d guess, about 200 well-behaved, expensively attired, heavy smoking 20 somethings on a wet afternoon, to hear 7 songs. The first half dozen were from the new album, which I bought for Ben and had autographed (what charming young men they are too). Particularly impressive to me were both the title track, “The National Health,” and the relaxed, friendly banter and demeanour of the band; they like their audience, because they used to be their audience.

All in all, an excellent afternoon, made all the better by the sight of Ben and his pals making their way to Reflex for the second gig; the curt nod of acknowledgment in my direction was vindication enough of my existence; the Iphone snap of Ben with the band that arrived a couple of hours later was a touching moment; almost as touching as the CDs of “Screamadelica” and “Lust For Life,” to replace well loved but battered vinyl, that I received on Fathers’ Day afternoon (once he’d got up of course).

Thanks to Ben, Hazel and Maximo Park for making my weekend.