music

Lately

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The sight of the Duddon estuary around Foxfield has always tugged on my heartstrings. The rounded railway line hugs the coast and estuary like a wide horseshoe. It runs from Barrow-on-Furness to Millom and up the Cumbrian coastline. The Isle of Man lies out to sea, smothered in thick black clouds. A slight hue of pink gives a clue that sunset is somewhere towards Scotland. A crack of brilliant orange erupts along the northern horizon.

Geese honk and ducks quack as winds carry across the broad flat marshland. Occasionally trees jut out defiantly refusing to be swept away by countless vicious tides. Heather blooms in vivid yellow contrasting the slate skies of spring. Pockets of sky blue shine down on the isolated station of Green Road. A salty fragrance fills the air.

“I saw your message down the line
It gave me hope, it gave us time
So little
Time” – Doves, Strange Weather

There’s an eerie ambience to the region. As shadow on the western reaches of the Lake District. An area with less eyes upon it. The nuclear power plant at Seascale, just over twenty miles away, ensures Millom beach sees fewer visitors than other Cumbrian towns. Twenty six miles separate Whitehaven from Millom, yet little sign of tourism peers beyond the low coastal town. Hodbarrow Point lighthouse and an RSPB birding reserve gather a few feet on their travels. The remains of a windmill and a older lighthouse lurking over the headland. Remnants of another time.

Looking inland, hills dominant and mighty roll towards the many Lake District mountains. Black Combe lurks over the sleepy village of Silecroft. An algae-covered abandoned caravan shares a view back from the infrequently-visited station below. Swinside Stone Circle sits neglected to the east. Further north is Bootle. On a clear day, views from Black Combe are said to include England, Scotland, Wales, and Eire. Not bad.

RAF Millom Aviation & Military Museum parted ways with its collection and now houses His Majesty’s Prison Haverigg. Think Butlins and you’re on the right track. The jewel in the region is Ravenglass for Eskdale. Muncaster Castle and Ravenglass and Eskdale railway are delightful glimpses into the western Cumbrian life. They’re an escape from modernity into past worlds. Owls and narrow gauge steam trains. A Roman bathhouse is also worth a wander.

Wainwright’s walks may lay inland but every turn south of Seascale to Millom has something to offer. At Seascale there is also Greycroft stone circle. Less busy than the famous Stonehenge and more compact for photographers. Drigg’s dunes from Carl Crag to Kokoarrah Scar, its packhorse bridge, and clues to the WWII Royal Ordnance Factory can be found. Just ignore the Nuclear Decommissioning Authority low-level radioactive waste repository. Wasted land, indeed.

Only recently did a wander up Greenfield, near Oldham, across to the Trinnacles fill me with a warmth that is familiar. The need to share such views with loved ones is growing stronger each day. Whether at Dovestones reservoir or trudging along Cumbrian coastline, there is a hunger to live better and enjoy nature more freely. Seeing Dan, Van, Alex, and Damo made me hungry to spend time with good friends and family, as often as possible.

Not Too Tame

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Once more into the breach we stepped. Mam and I popped to Salford. This time the mercy of the Gods waited. You know the Greek Gods. In Salford. Paul and Mam had introduced me to Not Too Tame before, and I had a hunger for more. Gods of Salford presented that opportunity.

Through the talented helm of Not Too Tame theatre, the audience plunged into a building site, engaged in some friendly participation, before being whipped into a frenzy. The usual midweek night in The Lowry this was not! Jimmy Fairhurst’s directions gave working-class heart and strength to a blend of modernity coupled with mythology. Cultural references slammed together with moetal defiance and resilience.

In a make-believe-believable world, overlords looked to determine the fate of a young cast of underlings. Much like modern life. Olympians, of the ancient kind, may have seemed up against it. Streetwise sense and a touch of “fuck off”-ery gave rise to a battle against all odds. This was theatre, with a hint or ten, of reality. Anthony Quinlan starred as Zeus, Laura Harrison and her incredible voice as Hera, and Jimmy Fairhurst as Hermes. Arguably, the stars of the show were the wide and broad troupe of young actors and actresses. Created and written by Not Too Tame, Jimmy Fairhurst, Andrew Butler & Louise Haggerty, featured a stunning set, seamless scene changes, a snappy soundtrack, and giggles galore. The aim of Not Too Tame is to make sure all audiences know “theatre IS for them.” True inclusiveness.

In 2025, The Lowry celebrated 25 years of presence at Manchester Port, renamed Salford Quays. Under the shadow of BBC and ITV studios, L.S. Lowry’s artwork equally sits by future potential and tried and tested acts. Opportunity’s hand glows on stage and Gods of Salford was no exceptional. Featuring a catchy soundtrack, poignant moments, and sharp dialogue, each moment flew by leaving the audience wanting more. After just 65 minutes, it was all over. So, what’s the next Not Too Tame production? Hurry up! Until then, other theatres and other groups will have to do.

“Remember, remember my name…” lyrics from a song featured in the show, God of Salford.

Williams Duo & Goodwin Too

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Oh, hey now is this a sign?
Have I been here before?
Oh, why should I care?
You can hear the silence drone
I still thirst

I looked for some guidance
Some beauty in my heart
Trying to accept the person I am
God knows it ain’t easy
Who knows the reason why?

Seize the time
Here comes my day in the summer sun
On summer days like these
But it slips through
What did you want?

Quintessentially Doves

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Doves’ artistry is on display amongst the two tracks Renegade and Cold Dreaming. Until the romance of a Valentine’s Day album release, it appears just two doses of the Constellations For The Lonely are all that will be available. Each piece reminds us that whilst a road may seem bleak and unwelcoming, there is still beauty to be found in struggle and feelings.

The brooding intensity of Renegade’s conclusion pipes emotion. Jimi Goodwin’s distinctive tones overlay a bold and rhythmic track. It was used at a recent snooker competition, and on listening, it could be a tune heard at the Etihad Stadium or equally a doctor’s surgery. The driving energy of Renegade is rebellious, with the track title itself emotive to its Medieval Latin routes. As you’re drawn into the track, expect a touch of hypnotic intensity to circulate around you.

This gritty atmospheric anthem steadies introspective lyrics on a relentless sonic wave of self-determining propulsion. There’s the defiance of abandoning old ways in favour of urgency. Sharp percussion. Ethereal guitar work. This is a sound that is quintessentially Doves. A turbulence of inner conflict offers a chance to break free from self-imposed restraints or that of societal and fanbase expectations. Through warming lyrics, there is an echo of disconnection and yearned clarification. Trapped by doubts. Restlessness. Haven’t we all been there?

“Far from the hopes and dreams of crashing out too low” – Renegade – Doves

Cold Dreaming seems to tackle the quieter struggles. It strikes at detachment and longing for emotional connection. There’s a cinematic airy melody, expert drum work, and finiteness to the track. This deeply immersive track screams ambience, shimmering textures and draws on lush electronic-influences. There’s Northern Soul galore and a feeling of floating up and out into an otherworldly place. The soulful haunting tune could befit bands such as Mansun or numerous Northern English outfits.

At points, the tracks from Doves’ sixth studio album offer melancholic stillness, a space in the shadows of overthinking, and possible forgiveness from emotional numbness. There is a huge nod to Black Rivers, the project of Andy Williams and his brother Jez. Their post-Doves, pre-Doves band belongs as part of Doves. Much like the recovering and loved Jimi Goodwin remains present, even in the exile of recovery.

“Give me the strength I need to forgive” – Cold Dreaming – Doves

Doves have an uncanny track record of knitting and waving emotional landscapes in their sounds. Themes of solitude, inner struggle, and self-reflection are relevant in everyday life. The contrast of shades that we encounter in human experience is high volume. Here lies two tracks. Each allows solace and understanding to visit the listener, offering a place to navigate our own mental journeys. Do we truly know where all fights lead? We are surely vulnerable to not knowing. Is this struggle a sign of the growth of Doves? Or us? These tracks have felt like mirrors of late. Life is challenging, and like life, each track conveys emotional ambiguity. Bittersweet sense: should it dissolve in my grasp or be released as is the mature of fleeting time?

The Next Broadcast

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Doves have accompanied me for years. The band was mostly made up of Jimi Goodwin on guitar and often lead vocals, with drummer Andy Williams and his twin Jez on guitars. Martin Rebelski has for a long while provided keyboards and other bits and bobs. Yet, here we are, in 2024, with a new look lineup. How would they sound in Birkenhead’s Future Yards?

“Sure enough if you feel nothing
You’re better off this way
Gets to the point where you can’t breathe” – The Last Broadcast, Doves

Jimi is taking an extended hiatus as he “needs more time to recover.” Naturally, fans of Doves are there for Jimi and will be ready and waiting when Goodwin is ready. In light of this, the twin duo Williams’ brothers take central stage. Alongside Nathan Sudders on bass (who I’d seen in Nadine Shah’s band) and Jake Evans (Bad Lieutenant), the line-up started a pre-tour on Wednesday, November 27th in Stoke. The Friday would see Hebden Bridge, but the only ticket I managed was Birkenhead, sandwiched between those dates. No complaints at all!

“And as you make for the door this time you’re walking out
…out forever” – Renegade, Doves

Swept up by Lost Souls in 2000, the dreamy soundtrack to college studies were plaued between CDs like Badly Drawn Boy’s The Hour of Bewilderbeast and all other available audio distractions. The wholesomeness of sounds that stood out and warmed my studies helped me reach university and apply to work for Greater Manchester Fire and Rescue Services. Listening to Doves helped my mind decode that university was the intended choice.

“In satellite towns
There’s no color and no sound
I’ll be ten feet underground
Gotta get out of this satellite town” – Black & White Town, Doves

During my university years, The Last Broadcast helped me process my Grandad’s death. And then the death of my Gran’s partner Ernie, who I regard as my grandfather. Every hard moment had a song and some tracks were visited more than others. Words for comfort. Melodies for medicine. Even heading to see Manchester City would swiftly be showered by the foot-stamping Pounding. All the combined track energy and near-psychedelia sounds would transport you from a lonely student room in Aberystwyth to soundscapes far beyond the hills. Feeling like an imposter at university, lost in not belonging, the words hugged me and kept me grounded.

“Follow
Your own path from here
So don’t listen
To what they say” – Words, Doves

Hearing Here It Comes, I’m spellbound by the genre-crossing ambience and the simplicity of the backing sounds. The lyrics are magical. It’s reminiscent and inspiring in equal measure. Just like the rays of hope from the latest album track release, Renegade. There’s an unmistakable warmth and tone, despite the Piccadilly garden rains. By the time I’d graduated at university, Some Cities had fired volcanic-proportions of indie rock at the world. The track Snowden, complete with rhythm and magic, alongside the drive of Black And White Town, amongst others, propel your ears. The lyrics range from frustration to joy to wonder. I’m sure other bits are covered in equal measures.

Playlist for the night:

Firesuite, Carousels, Words, Cold Dreaming, Black and White Towns, Snowden, Renegade, Rise, Circle of Hurt, Sea Song, Mother Silverlake, 10:03, Pounding, Caught by the River, The Cedar Room, Here It Comes, Kingdom of Rust, There Goes The Fear.

Future Yards is a class venue, with friendly staff, a great sound system, ample ales and beers, decent food, and warmth. Seeing Doves perform there, after many years of radio silence, was an absolute privilege. So, where’s the next Doves experience? Manchester Aviva. Can’t wait. The superb Doves Music blog website is firmly back on my homepage. The Doves family are back. This next broadcast is more than wanted.

“There goes the fear again, let it go
There goes the fear, let it go” – There Goes The Fear, Doves

Thank you Doves, thank you so much, thank you for coming back. I truly feel energised after a tough few months and feel you’re with me, blessing my ears and touching my soul as the future unfolds. Thank you to Jez, Andy, Jimi, Martin, and the new beginnings.

Katie Fforde’s Island In The Sun: Reviewed + Keane

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Island in the Sun by Katie Fforde is a feel-good novel. I get why it’s popular. The age-old tried and tested niceties of its contents are visible from the cover to the blurb. It isn’t for me. That also applies to Keane, although this band does have some gorgeous tunes that are worthy of many playlists, including my own. If you like uplifting stories and music, pair up this novel with Keane’s Hopes and Fears.

“We’re spiraling; We’re tumbling down. We’re spiraling; Tied up to the ground.” – Keane lyrics, Spiralling

Usually, I would’t pick this kind of book up. Island in the Sun by Katie Fforde is a warm and enchanting story that transports readers to a beautiful, sun-drenched island. The book’s themes of love, self-discovery, and new beginnings are beautifully explored through the eyes of the protagonist, whose journey from uncertainty to confidence is both relatable and inspiring. The island setting serves as a perfect backdrop for the blossoming romance and the personal growth that occurs throughout the story. I also wouldn’t usually be found listening to Keane for too long.

Attending Keane’s 20th anniversary tour of their debut album, Hopes and Fears, was a pleasure. The tunes are melodic, the fans impassioned, and the band itself, divine. Tom Chapman, on lead vocals, alongside Tim Rice-Oxley and Jesse Quin, sit on the softer edge of rock, somewhere between indie and soul, and all the other gentle musical genres. Slow to mid-tempo rarely jump up beyond their distorted piano and instruments, but it works. Somewhere Only We Know is a gorgeous ballad. My sister Astrid was certainly enjoying the gig. She seemed to know every lyric instinctively. If ever Tom Chapman needs a break, Astrid is ready and waiting.

“I hold you in cupped hands; And shield you from a storm; Where only some dumb idiot; Would let you go.” – Keane, Sunshine lyrics

The Katie Fforde book is highly recommended for fans of feel-good romance novels, especially those who enjoy stories set in idyllic locations. It’s a perfect summer read for anyone looking to escape into a world of love and sunshine. I am not sure that I would pick this book up again. Much like the novel by Katie Fforde, the band Keane is sun-soaked, cheery, and filled to the brim with credible content. It is easy to imagine scenes of the book with the background music, This Is the Last Time. It doesn’t mean I won’t be revisiting the author’s or band’s works.

Katie Fforde’s Island in the Sun is a charming novel beautifully capturing both the themes of second chances and rediscovery. Richly drawn characters take a journey through a central landscape of warmth and magic. Dollops of personal growth land alongside love found at an older age. Expect whimsical blends of romance throughout vivid escapism. Much like the lyrics of Keane, satisfyingly atmospheric moments will occur. Perfect symmetry, indeed. Keane’s gig was postponed, much like the opening of Coop Live in Manchester. The wait was well worth it. An emotional Tom Chapman cut the stage-audience interactions perfectly, and on reflection, Keane delivered fantastically.

Origins.

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“This is a traditional children’s song.”

“It’s Take Me Home, Country Roads with Chinese words.”

“The rhythm is ancient and traditional.”

“It’s John Denver.”

“Don’t you like this old Chinese melody?”

“No, they sing it at Old Trafford. It’s from 1971.”

“No, it’s much older than that.”

“John Denver went to China?”

“Probably. It’s copied.”

“Possibly. Possibly not.”

“You don’t believe our culture. What about this next song?”

“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart adapted to accommodate Twinkle Twinkle Little Star lyrics.”

“And the next song?”

“Jingle Bells, by James Pierpont. 1857. It was possibly a drinking song.”

Diane Charlemagne – Underrated Mancunian

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Diane Charlemagne wasn’t Dido. She didn’t feature on Eminem’s Stan. She could have. Instead, her voice permeated a string of hits, club classics, and iconic songs. Sadly, discovering her name and back catalogue, I realised that I was too little, too late. And she’s a Manc. Why hadn’t I heard of her?

For many years, I had the song, “The key, the secret” bouncing around my head. Diane’s voice held that tune. Having sang alongside Moby and Elton John, having featured on Goldie’s Inner City Life amongst others, Diane Charlemagne deserves greater recognition – and she was Mancunian.

In the vibrant tapestry of Manchester’s music scene, where every note finds its rhythm and every song tells a story, one voice soared above the rest: Diane Charlemagne. With a name that echoes through the annals of music history like a perfectly pitched chorus, Diane was more than just a singer; she was a force of nature, a vocal virtuoso, and the beating heart of Manchester’s melodic soul. Oddly, few people know her name.

Born, February 2nd, 1964, in Manchester, Diane was destined for musical greatness from the heave-ho-get-go. Apparently, even as a child, she had a knick-knack for turning mundane moments into impromptu concerts, much to the bemusement of her family and neighbours. Her early years were a symphony of talent shows and local gigs, each performance adding a note to the masterpiece that would become her career.

Diane first strutted onto the big stage with the band 52nd Street, a group that effortlessly blended soul, funk, and jazz into a sound as smooth as silk and as infectious as a catchy jingle. Their single “Tell Me (How It Feels)” rocketed up the charts, and Diane’s voice, with its rich timbre and emotional depth, was the secret ingredient that left listeners hooked. Manchester’s very own diva with a voice that could melt butter and a stage presence that could ignite fireworks. Yet, only amongst a select audience.

Yet, Diane was no one-hit-wonder. She was seen as a musical chameleon, seamlessly transitioning from the sultry vibes of 52nd Street to the pulsating beats of dance music. Her collaboration with the band Urban Cookie Collective on the track “The Key, The Secret” became an anthem of the 90s rave scene, propelling her to international stardom. With her powerful vocals driving the song’s euphoric energy, Diane became the queen of the dance floor, commanding crowds with a single note. And that got her noticed.

Like any true artist, Diane was not content to rest on her laurels. She sought new challenges and found them in the world of drum and bass. Teaming up with Goldie, the genre’s godfather, Diane lent her voice to the iconic track “Inner City Life.” Her haunting, soulful delivery added a layer of poignancy to the song, transforming it into a timeless classic. Critics and fans alike hailed her as the undisputed siren of drum and bass, a title she wore with grace and humility.

“Inner city life; Inner city pressure; Inner city life; Inner city pressure taking over me (yeah, yeaaah); But I won’t let go” – Inner City Life, Goldie

Despite her impressive accolades and the glitz of the spotlight, Diane remained grounded. She was known for her generosity, her infectious laughter, and her unwavering dedication to her craft. Her collaborations with artists across genres (from jazz maestro Moby to pop sensation Beverley Knight) demonstrated her versatility and her boundless passion for music.

Tragically, Diane’s vibrant life was cut short in October 2015, when she passed away after a battle with cancer. However, her legacy endures, resonating through the speakers and headphones of music lovers around the world. Manchester lost a star, but the universe gained a voice that may echo through the ages. In the end, Diane Charlemagne was much more than a singer from Manchester. She was a musical luminary whose voice could paint emotions and conjure memories. Her journey from local talent shows to international stages is a testament to her extraordinary talent and indomitable spirit.

Icy Reception

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Terje Isungset Ice Quartet used a range of frozen spots on stage. Icy mist drifted from their unique instruments. Ice sheet music played out to haunting and near primaeval melodies. Nature shone through every crispy note. The leader of the pack, Terje Isungset, added more than the name to his group. With a background in jazz and drumming, Terje slid through arrangements on various nontraditional ice pieces.

Mum, Paul and I went to the Royal Northern College of Music, on Oxford Road, Manchester. Thanks to me Mam, experiencing music made from frozen water and the sound of nature has hit my radar. The idea of a winter festival inspired musician having ice and his quartet dropped in the warm autumn streets of Manchester is bizarre. From Lillehammer’s waterfall to a place sat atop the mud that probably drifted from the nearby Medlock river is a tad surreal.

Sat with family, I thought about how lucky we are in Manchester, to experience peace, multiculturalism, and music from around the globe. Chilling out to chill out music from Erling Haaland’s country on a Friday night is a good way to unwind. The music, surprisingly, lifted a headache and allowed for a chance to sit down and switch off the mind.

The following morning Jack Frost had visited Manchester. I sat on a train to Lancaster, opening a new book. Buried In The Sky tells a tale of Sherpa climbers on the K2 mountain’s deadliest day. Page one…

Volumes.

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The sirens are screaming, the lights are on full, flashing strobes bounce off the audience beneath. The volume is loud, and the crowd is baying for more.

Two gigs in two days. Two stunning venues. Two great collectives. With my younger brother Paul, we wandered down to the modern Bridgewater Hall. The vast stage and an auditorium for 2341 people. The acoustics and still air encapsulate that the venue sits on 280 springs. Despite the name Bridgewater, it doesn’t sit on that canal. Instead, it lines a branch of the Rochdale Canal. A green garden-lined basin and destination for sound.

The Bridgewater Hall, home of the world famous Halle Orchestra, represents music, culture, and a transition to modernisation for the city of Manchester. The city was first visited by Meat Loaf on his first U.K. tour in 1978 at the Manchester Apollo seemed an apt place for the Neverland Express band to perform a celebration of Meat Loaf and singer/writer Jim Steinman.

Caleb Johnson, an American Idol product, used his rebellious warmth and personality to play lead singer. Nobody can ever replace Meat Loaf (and that’s the truth), but Caleb is a talent fit to headline. I doubt this will be his last trip to the U.K. or Manchester. As a supplement and addition to the excellent Neverland Express band who seemingly will never ever ever, ever stop rocking. The music didn’t sound like a group cashing in a last pay opportunity. Their raw and unique sound rippled eardrums and rattled bones.

John Miceli on drums has been with the band since 1989. The Long Island, New York-born drummer hasn’t let his energy slip with ferocious beats and trademark speed on show throughout Friday’s musical marathon. Good enough skills for Queen and Brian May. Alongside the inner sanctum of the band, and since 2003, Paul Crook, lead guitarist and show director, proudly worked the stage. Hailing from Plainfield, New Jersey, guitarist Crook has spun through Anthrax, Blue Oyster Cult, Marya Roxx, Queen, and filmmaker John Carpenter on his spiderman-like web of a journey. His passion and love for music are apparent throughout.

Randy Flowers and a score of more recent others completed the band, but by no means looked out of place. Sadly, as highlighted by one song, played to the audience without a vocalist, a lone microphone with a red handkerchief symbolised that one man was missing. Meat Loaf’s music will live on, especially with the American Idol winner Caleb Johnson walking amongst brooding crowds. A band truly endorsed by Meat Loaf, for fans of Meat Loaf in a world without Meat Loaf isn’t a bad thing.

The following evening saw a quick wander to Manchester’s Albert Hall. This was my first trip to the former Albert Hall and Aston Institute, which most people of a certain generation know as Brannigans. It’s been on ghost-watching shows, Neo-Baraque architecture radars, and the English Heritage list for a long time. Yet, I hadn’t visited since its rebirth in 2012 as a music venue. The former Wesleyan Mission Mission Mission Methodist Church houses a horseshoe-shaped hall, complete with seated balcony level and a wall-filling organ.

Bouncing sounds off the terracotta and stained glass were the sharp-edged Hot 8 Brass Band. This band has been through troubles. Three members died from handgun related causes, whilst recently Bennie Pete, a former leader, died as a result of Covid-19. This latest tour was held in his name. Featuring in a Spike Lee movie and on BBC Radio 6 Music has propelled their growing audience and love for jazzy blues. Covering Joy Division with Love Will Tear Us Apart doesn’t hurt your following in Manchester. This bubbly eight-piece ensemble made the watching audience sing, bounce, and cheer Saturday evening away. Hip hop, funk, pop, indie, and more genres spliced by New Orleans style gave something for everyone.

Hinged Upon

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Arriving back in Manchester took far too long. Catching up with family was long overdue. Seeing City live took a tad longer. The City v Tottenham Hotspur game was cancelled, as was nearly a whole week of events, as part of enforced national mourning of HRH Queen Elizabeth II. Choice to mourn was taken from the hands of most people. Those who may or may not have needed busy minds or distractions had to follow endless TV and cultural cancellations.

With Stephen from Shenzhen Blues we wandered down to Cardiff Bay to see the Patron Saint Liam Gallagher, the day before the newly arrived King Charles was due in Cardiff too. Charlatans were the support and the gig was very good, despite the elongated national mourning period. I wouldn’t wish any harm to the Royal Family but they don’t represent me and we have little in common. I am closer to The Royle Family.

A trip to Prescott, neat Knowsley Safari Park and St. Helens presented a chance to see two Shakespeare productions. With Mum, Paul and Astrid we viewed A Midsummer’s Night Dream, at the Shakespeare North. The modern take and retelling featured the voice of David Morrissey and the Not Too Tame team. The Guardian newspaper called it “gleefully anarchic”. It was a tasty and feisty piece of stage wonder. The following day we sat outside in the Ken Dodd amphitheatre, watching Romeo and Juliet by a trio of Handlebards. This threesome cycled with their props and gear for the outdoor production. They’re part of a larger collective who entertain far and wide. Not a bad commitment to ride over 1500 miles in summer 2020! Sustainable theatre at its finest. I’d seen them in Levenshulme before, on the Fallowfield Loop Line cycle path and knew how good their performances were. Even in a blustery Ken Dodd outdoor performance area, I giggled and nodded applause at a fantastic show.

October involved Manchester City’s 6-3 win over Manchester United. 4-0 up at halftime was made to feel less fun, by quadruple substitutions and less urgency. The game was over, to be fair. City marched through that month at home with relentless aggression, unlike November’s rolling over for a belly tickle and defeat to Brentford. The World Cup in Qatar since enforced a break from Premier League action. City needed it, as the league approaches its halfway point.

TV shows under perusal have included the disappointment of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Andor. Star Wars needs better ideas. The award winning Welcome to Wrexham gave an insight into a decent fanbase and Welsh football club dealing with celebrity ownership. Wrexham AFC have really picked up their hope. Good to see. Plus, owners Ryan Reynolds and Rob McElhenney seem to really be engaged and enjoying their ambitious adventure. Delving into Welsh culture isn’t a bad start. The pick of the viewing has to be SAS: Rogue Heroes, even though it artistically bends truths and flips the usual format of historical drama making. Some clichéd scenes add cheese to the beefy content.

Good to see G.I.M.P.S. with a mention on YouTube at Jedi$Invest VLOG. Cheers to Chris Bradshaw. I’ll name drop his name drop.

Loud & Slow.

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As per the t-shirt motive on entering the O2 Apollo in Manchester, the phrase ‘loud and slow‘ stood out. After grabbing a £6.80 pint or some trendy looking Indian Pale Ale, I took my seat: MM16. An aisle seat 4 rows back from the stalls. The view was unobstructed and two seats to my left marked that Mum and Paul could sadly not make it. A few rows to the right many empty seats indicated the gig hadn’t sold out, which was a shame. Sigur Ros began their show by 9pm.

The seductive smooth dramatic and dreamy tunes smoothly slid from stage to ears, transporting the crowd of listeners to planets, spaces and dimensions. Through one number tragedy could be visited. Through another track, a guttural feeling of remembering someone lost. Yet more tracks provided exhilarating adventures. The band mixed some recent and catalogue tracks to a grateful audience.

Fast forward a few days and to the city of Leeds. My brother Shaun and I went to see the dramatic semifinal between New Zealand and Australia. The Kangaroos edged an enthralling encounter 16-14 over a super Kiwi squad. England lost to Samoa by one point the next day to set up a final at Old Trafford Swamp. The Rugby League World Cup 2021, played in 2022 has been fantastic for sport, but deserves a bigger crowd, even with 28,113 at Elland Road in Leeds.

The train journey and tram back to Newton Heath via Leeds and Rochdale was slow, to bring the exhilaration of a great noisy rugby experience back to earth. The train journey called via Mytholmroyd where The Iron Man has been illustrated bybstudents and placed along the platform. Good to see Ted Hughes being celebrated.

CCTV Music Review (Kind of)

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CCTV (Chinese state TV) didn’t commission me. I’m just reviewing musical experiences in China. By that, I don’t mean Mr Oliver making his students wild at an end of year school show. Melodic music seems completely endemic here. Rhythm and blues do not. The exploration of music in China has been limited. Pop concerts are plentiful. Traditional music is out there. KTV is everywhere, seemingly only beaten in numbers by the dreaded mosquitoes.

Throughout travels, I’ve overheard piped speakers repeating at shrieking levels “wǒ ài Mǎnzhōulǐ” in deepest darkest coldest Inner Mongolia (内蒙古) to two people, in a field of ice. Actually, almost every province I’ve visited has had Mandarin language to its music. Rarely have I overheard local dialects, other than Cantonese in Guangdong. I’m convinced when my Granddad George Acton visited Qīngdǎo (青岛) and ShànghǎI (上海) in the 1940s, he visited at a time when local dialects were rife and strong. Whilst Mandarin has brought uniformity and literacy, it did also deliver annoying song xiǎo píngguǒ (小苹果).

Released in May 2014, the catchy Xiao Pingguo song refuses to go away. I think of it as China’s answer to the Crazy Frog. Wang Taili (王太利) and Xiao Yang (肖央) are the successful Chopstick Brothers (筷子兄弟). They’re not on my Christmas card list. Ever. They were even parodied by the Chinese Ministry of Defence, for recruitment purposes, in July 2014. I remember it being irritating then but if that’s how they plan to tackle the Taiwan problem, so be it. Siege by surreal music. Like Christmas songs in July, Xiao Pingguo never exits your head or seemingly airplay.

In education, I’ve witnessed a wealth of traditional instruments from China. Students plucking the Guzheng’s (古箏)’s 16–26 strings, or pear-shaped Pipa (琵琶), or similar Liuqin (柳琴) have formed mini-orchestras and solo acts throughout many school shows. A whole wealth of other stringed instruments hasn’t been seen in Xinjiang or Tibet, because I’ve yet to visit either region. I have heard and seen the two-stringed fiddle (Erhu 二胡) in action. I’ve had a go in Yunnan too. Maybe one day I’ll try it again. It can have an upbeat melodic ring to it, or deep blues. Mandopop and Cantopop covers haven’t been far behind.

Hugely popular song: WoMen Bu Yi Yang 我們不一樣 – by 大壯 Da Zhuang

There are countless string and pipe instruments throughout the land of China, with names too unknown to write and sounds heard rarely to explain. Clay, bells, silk too, and other instruments are fantastic to see in villages and countryside areas. The húlúsī (葫芦丝) is a gourd wind instrument that looks like a bulbous pipe swallowed a recorder. It can be played in a haunting manner, as witnessed in the foothills of Yunnan. Unlike Eason Chan, G.E.M., Jackie Chan, Jay Chou, the TF Boys, BTS, and other Chinese pop stars, I will miss traditional instruments like the húlúsī.

Dagu (大鼓) means large drum and would have been found in countless drum towers across imperial China. These days they can be found at school shows alongside the Zhangu (战鼓) or war drum. Likewise museums may encase them, just up the aisle from flutes made of bones. Yǎyuè (雅樂) translates to something like elegant music. The aristocracy and Confucius believed music could only follow one path for self-cultivation and governmental ruling. “March of the Volunteers”(义勇军进行曲 Yiyǒngjūn Jìnxíngqǔ) probably fits the yǎyuè mindset.

Originally known as The March of the Anti-Manchukuo Counter-Japan Volunteers, the national anthem of China can be found weekly at school flag raising ceremonies, all national holidays, supermarkets, and even playing from children’s toys. The national anthem was penned by Tián Hàn (田汉), a novelist and playwright). It was set to music by Yunnan’s Niè Ěr (聂耳) AkA George Njal, as was his wish. Sadly Nie Er drowned at a young age and never expanded on a blossoming and flourishing musical career. Many moons later I passed through his native Kunming and listened to the sound of heavy traffic. This after days of bird song, didgeridoo, and drums in Dali.

Hong Kong, the Magic Island Festivals at Zhuhai, Guangzhou, Dongguan (mostly Irene’s Bar) and Shenzhen remain the places I’ve seen the most live music during my years in China. A few live bands and DJs in Shanghai and Dali probably complete a short list for a large land. It hasn’t been that I haven’t been looking for it of asking for live music. Even before bloody CoViD-19 struck, it was hard enough to see live music and a million times harder to get tickets. Strip away the VIP, VVVIP, of Golden Platinum VIP options and music tickets are hard to find. Expect nothing for anything labelled VIP. The gimmicks are status only.

In Dongguan, whilst writing for Hubhao magazine, I was lucky enough to enjoy Netherlands band Atlantic Attraction. Their website is now about knees so I guess they broke up or faded out. I went looking for answers. None. Perhaps when I fly home to the UK via the Netherlands, Kevin de Haas will swap vocals and guitar for baggage handling, and Arend Lacked may have moved to Airbnb, or Joris van der Pole may have shed bass in favour of bus driving. The drums are out so perhaps Sibren Huijsmans will sell me a coffee. A good band. Missed.

Epic festivals at Hong Kong such as Clockenflap, seeing Paul Draper at Guangzhou’s Mao Livehouse, swinging by So What Livehouse and the various Brown Sugar Jar venues have been good experiences. Watching Mr Irish Bastard at an intimate night in Shenzhen or spending Christmas Day with an acoustic guitar concert will remain fond memories. And of course, Dongguan foreign band, Revolution, now dissolved… and out if their ashes, come Reload. That’s Sunday’s entertainment sorted. Big Band Theory at Murray’s were electric, as has been almost every music night at Irene’s Bar in Houjie town.

The journey through music in Asia and from China won’t end on leaving this country. I’m already booked into seeing The Hu, a Mongolian rock band later this year, complete with instruments, the morin khuur and the tsuur. How China can water down Mongolian dialect in favour of Mandarin in Inner Mongolia (P.R of China) is beyond me? Languages need preservation, and music has long imbibed that theme. I can’t wait to experience my next installments of Mongolian music after Taiga band in Bar Ink, Dongguan.

And of course, I can always say my former St. Lorraine students featured on a music video of the Sun Yat Sens. Wechat微信… Wechat微信…

And my Levellers lyrics were tattooed in Yunnan.

Laid up philosophy

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“We think too small, like the frog at the bottom of the well. He thinks the sky is only as big as the top of the well. If he surfaced, he would have an entirely different view.” – Mao Zedong (毛泽东), the first Chairman of P.R. of China, based on the idiom 井底之蛙 jǐng dǐ zhī wā – Narrow-minded and ignorant

Dr Li (李医生, orthopedics department) gave me an x-ray today and my foot is unwrapped. Stinks like some long forgotten French cheese that’s been left outside on a hot day, however, not as bad as Durian fruit. Now, two weeks on crutches and lots of self-physio to rebuild the wasted muscle and time. A huge visual difference in my ankle, calf and right foot (which has shrunk in length and breadth). Small steps to recovery.

And Dr Peng (respiratory department) tomorrow is release day from the hospital after the pulmonary embolism. Rehabilitation time.

“Nothing in life… even a few broken bones, is without its reward.” – John le Carre, author

Below is a list of things I have genuinely thought about, whilst lay on the hospital bed. The key points have been translated to Chinese, because, why not? I’m in China. Maybe one day someone will want them as a tattoo.

Free your heart from hate; 心中无恨. Pretty obvious. Be nice. Hate Man U****d. That’s all.

Free your mind from worry; 脑中无忧. Insurance ran out? Uncovered? Want private healthcare in a land where your language exchanges are limited? Want peace and quiet to speed up recovery? Then pay for not. Don’t worry. Money can always be earned again. It’s a tool. Buy something with no regrets. If you can’t afford a luxury yacht, buy a luxury toothbrush.

Live simply; 生活简单. Salad and fruit are delicious. Don’t let anyone tell you not to eat bell peppers raw. When energy demands lower, eat less and ponder whether Buddhist dietary needs are actually good for you. Or, eat chocolate.

Give more; 多些付出. When we pay taxes to states and social insurance, we’re contributing to society. Infamous tax dodgers Starbucks, Amazon, eBay, Apple etc. probably feel empty and cold. They didn’t play their part in society. Nobody can feel the benefit, without paying their way. Keeping the economy afloat is one thing, but always give when you can, especially when you have less to give. It feels good.

Expect less; 少些期待. Ambition is a pathway to disappointment. Or, expectations should be lowered to avoid feelings of inadequacy. Not everything is under your control and circumstances are likely to remind you that life is a challenge and fairness or equality a fictional aim. Idealism is not achievable under every circumstance. Be less worried.

Everyone is an individual, but we’re connected. 每个人都是独立的个体，但我们联系在一起. The philosophy of an international planet full of respectful connections with differences being put aside won’t be easy. Flags, borders, disputes and dick-waggling must stop. Isn’t climate change enough of a motivator, or will we all stay so individual? Record temperatures and extreme weather. We’ll all be connected, especially when it’s too late.

“So throw those curtains wide. One day like this a year’ll see be right.” – One Day Like This, a song by Elbow

After listening to the stunning Glastonbury set recordings of Elbow, I funked away to the impressive Billie Eilish, and sang along to Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds. Grounds for Divorce is such a powerful tune by Elbow. One Day Like This is their dreamy song, and one I associate with watching Manchester City at F.A. Cup games in Wembley. The band ftom Ramsbottom, Bury keep getting stronger as they age. Perfect. Like a vintage wine. Or cheese, but not from my feet!

Everything’s Electric

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There used to be a time when I’d book things to look forwards to, places to go and events to see with family and friends. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen live music in an arena, music Hall or outdoor concert. If it wasn’t for tribute bands and variety acts around Dongguan, I’d have heard nil by ears.

Going home brings new opportunities. Many challenges and worries. But, as I dodge COVID-19 with the substandard Sinovac vaccination, I’ll grab some other up-to-date and tried and tested formula within a week of the ferry berthing in Kingston-upon-Hull.

Dock in Hull. First steps on English soil in a fraction beneath three years away from the U.K. Get to Manchester. Take Mum to Arcade Fire. Wander off to Gulliver’s a few days later to hear the sounds of Lael Neale (5/9). Get down to Cardiff, home of F.I.F.A. 2022 World Cup Qatar-bound Wales. Give our Liam Gallagher and The Charlatans a listen (15/9). Wait until November for Idlewild (20/11) followed by Florence and The Machine (22/11). Slot in the football at the Etihad, home of Manchester City, and seek out some comedy. And, ideally some track cycling.

“I think he’s coming home again.” – C’mon You Know lyrics, Liam Gallagher

A little further ahead it seem possible to witness the comedy talent of Henning Wehn in Stockport Plaza (18/2/23) and
Stewart Lee at the Lowry, Salford (31/2/23) with Mum and Paul.

Independence and life will hit like a brick in the face. The next steps will be clearer. I still don’t actually know where I’ll be sleeping for the foreseeable future in Blighty. My fear of becoming homeless is closer than ever. That green and pleasant land of Brexit and Conservative destruction is crumbling like the White Cliffs of Dover. It’s going to be hard to get by, but a positive mental attitude is on its way. With Panda. At least I’ll be a little entertained. Providing I can get by with extortionate gas, electric, water and council taxes feeding the fat cats.

Of course, after two weeks on crutches (with two to four more expected, provided I heal), looking forward is more important than ever. This loose cast and elevated legs daily are trying and testing my patience. I’m teaching myself resilience. Still, it could be worse. Much worse. I’ve known two friends to lose their mother in the last two years and that’s a horrible experience to witness others suffer.

A slippery apartment, wet floor tiles outdoors, puddles, whizzing electric bikes, phone zombies who don’t look up whilst walking, dog owners who can’t shuffle their poodle left a little and vomit puddles in the elevator make going to work difficult. That and showering on one leg. One leg outside as I dance, shuffle and avoid slips, trips and falls. Things broken don’t just include my right foot. 120kg of mass moving at gravity – assisted speed onto chairs, bed frames and stools generates a fair crack of sound. The crutches don’t grip moisture. Dongguan is all about the humidity these days. And heavy rain.

My second visit to the Songshan Lake Tungwah Hospital (东华松山湖医院) radiology department via the emergency department and with the help of Dr Li (李医生, orthopedic department) went okay. No huge progression after a week. Carry on with this, that and the other. Time is a healer. Thanks to Maria and her boyfriend, and Peter for accompanying me the initial time and at the sequel. The very professional hospital have been most helpful this academic year at T.W.I.S.

C’mon You Know is Liam Gallagher’s umpteenth foray into music. The former Oasis member and brother of Noel has mixed some soulful pop with bite and some catchy lyrics. It’s decent enough if you’re into indie and rock, with the usual shade of 90s and The Beatles thrown in for good taste. It definitely sounds like it should be at home on festival stages and in front of stadium crowds.

Still, I enjoyed chicken with the quad of Alice, Keisel and Laura yesterday. Panda has been walked by all three and 7 others this last two weeks. We’re having a few bumpy times but he’s still a happy doggy. Thanks go Benny, Jaime, Mr D, Nem and Aleks, Alice, Keisel, Charif, Daisy, and Maria for walking Panda. He really appreciates it too. Especially, the 5.30am walks… and the runs! Thank you kindly.

They’ll be better days.

All subject to change.

Meat Loaf.

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I wanna go on the red, (I wanna) I wanna go on the green…

Incomparable. Without a parallel. The monster is loose. Rest in peace. The late Michael Lee Aday (born Marvin Lee Aday; September 27, 1947 – January 20, 2022) best known as Meat Loaf has exited stage left and right equally. He’s left behind a mark that stretches far beyond a stack of albums and songs.

Peel out. Another profile not needed as piece of writing. Tributes will be everywhere. Sad news indeed. My condolences to Meat Loaf’s family and friends. The words and passion of Meat Loaf have got me through hard times. I’ll play a few songs and toast the big man. I hope he never ever, ever, ever, ever stops rocking…

And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell…

Stage XII: Serendipity x Terra

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Nihao! 你好！Hello!

Lee Child mentioned in his novels, that his character Jack Reacher never goes back to a place he’s visited. It’s a state of mind. I’m not Jack Reacher. I’m too short and not as strong. I went back to Dali’s Ancient town in a car with Qiézi (茄子) and the trio of girls that set out with our driver in the first place. It had only been for two nights away, but such was the refreshment of the trek, it felt longer (in a good way).

I checked into the Jade Emu Hostel once again, who were so busy that they put me into a neighbouring hotel. A room is a room. Then it was time for a coffee at Movie Time Coffee Shop, surrounded by a chilled setting. Qiézi joined me for a cuppa and we talked a little. Two dogs, one tiny and one medium in stature had a fuss, before climbing all over us for hugs and attention. It was a pleasurable end to a good day.

The following morning I met QiéZi with Xiao Jie, one of the girls from the trekking, and we wondered to a set of temples (including Gantong temple and a nunnery) and trails on 苍山 Cāngshān, starting somewhere near Dali University (by Xuefu Lu). The gentle upwardly walks led to BuLuoSi temple and a view of numerous waterfalls. We didn’t return to Dali’s old Town (古城, Gǔchéng) but instead bypassed it to meet QiéZi’s good friends Lin and Spirlo. The once top 13 city (in terms of size – in the year 1000AD) is a sprawl of farms and villages along the Cāngshān range. Lin and Spirlo live at the far end of along road, and down an alley, in a lovely little farmhouse surrounded by gardens rich in vegetables.

We’d gone from orchids, rhododendrons, camellias and birdsong to a relaxed house filled with warmth and harmonies. The six cats with their talented masters of Lin (from Fujian) and her Greek husband Spirlo were great company. Plenty of conversation was had from talking about the didgeridoo to football to camping and trekking.

The final full day involved a filling breakfast of omelette and salmon at Serendipity cafe and diner. It did exactly what it said on the label filling my belly to the brim. Not a bad iced coffee indeed! Then, a wander to drink fruit juice, natter and following that a gander at the market on Sānyuèjiē (三月街) and all the marvelous oddities for sale. A fire festival is due in Dali around about now. After which a spot of planned spontaneity was called for, planned and put into action. A relaxing mix of sensations followed. I’ll write about that another time.

The day culminated with the eating of tiramisu at the Terra cafe. It was by far the best tiramisu I have ever experienced. Qiezi, Xiao Jie and I were eventually joined by Echo. As is very Echo, she broughta new friend along. Farola talked star signs and birth times (08:37, if you aren’t wondering). They ordered more tiramisu but by then I was stuffed like a well-fed teddy bear at a teddy bear factory. I’ve tried many and few have satisfied. It took me a while to realise that Terramisu wasn’t a spelling mistake but a variation on the cafe name in the food type! And, then Qiezi and Xiao Jie bid everyone goodbye. It could have ended there and then, but the magic carried on.

I was invited by both Qiezi and Xiao Jie to Lin and Spirlo’s farmhouse. Qiezi had taken the responsibility to feed their six cats. I pondered the difficulty of getting from there to Dali Railway Station. Echo asked me, “What’s stopping you?” She was completely right. Nothing was stopping me. I hugged Echo goodbye and I’m not ashamed to say a few tears formed in my eyes. Emotions can be high at times of homesickness and when you really appreciate great friends.

Leaving Dali behind, I feel like I will return. There’s much more to explore and within the whole province of Yunnan, there’s too much nature to ignore. I’ll probably be back. The final night lay on the ground staring at stars with Qiezi and Xiao Jie was special. Qiezi made a few very wonderful photos. Sharing the sights of five shooting stars in one night was a unique experience.

Home is where the heart is. Your heart doesn’t have to just be in one place, at one time, or with one person. Hearts are open. Making a connection irrespective of time and space is a wonderful experience. There needs to be more love and peace in the world. In the words of Qiezi, “Everyone is free spirited and an adventurer. Independent individuals but connected together.” It’s been a delightful and unique time in Yunnan. My heart feels warm and my head clearer than ever. Something will travel with me from these days that started in Dali and I leave behind a piece of my heart.

Star images by Qiezi

“We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when, but I know we’ll meet again some sunny day.” – Vera Lynn song We’ll Meet Again written by Ross Parker (Mancunian) & Hughie Charles (also born in Manchester)

Zaijian! 再见！Goodbye!

Waits (& see: City)

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Dear all, interested or not, especially Blues,

I’ve known Waits since I joined Shenzhen Blues way back in 2014-ish. The oddity of it all, is that he and I hadn’t met in person until July 2021. Arriving in the old Zhangye Railway Station I spot Waits by the railway station entrance immediately. His sky blue t-shirt emblazoned with MCFC was exactly what I had expected to see. Us Blues stand out. What amazed me most is that Zhangye is 2865km from Shenzhen. There are no direct flights, and certainly no direct trains. The quickest flights via Lanzhou are 5 hours and 50 minutes.

Brother Waits.

Waits has been following Manchester City for years. We’re not talking about a glory-seeker at all. He latched onto the singers of the blues on the back of a certain Sun Jihai. He’s endured seasons of toil and mid-table football, before the good times came along. He even said he preferred watching City from 2001 to 2009. Most City fans have that romantic lust for those times. The expectation and the angry eye of the media these days can be all-so-consuming. He’s sat up at all hours of day to see the famous sky blue and white team play umpteen teams over land and sea… and Stretford. He’s one of our own.

Submitted December 2019 to SZBs.

Over the years I have acted as his football jersey mule, occasionally sourcing one or carrying his Classic Football Shirt orders from my Mam’s house to China. His collection, his famed home-office (man cave?) is full of City. Tencent and QQ media have interviewed him. He was interviewed for Shenzhen’s live fan gathering at the end of the last season. He’s featured on City’s Inside City shows and other places too. Sometimes, I wonder why Manchester City’s China office hasn’t offered him a position (of remote working). His passion for teaching English and his love of City is for all to see.

Waits reply to his best goal: “SWP nearly zero angle shot”

Waits has translated the poem This Is The Place by Tony Walsh, with permission. The Chinese edition featured in Dongguan’s defunct HubHao magazine and online. Shenzhen Blues also published it to Manchester City fans in China. For years Waits has translated Manchester City’s On This Day information, statistics, facts, stories and tales of City folklore. He’s encouraged young and new fans alike, giving advice, passion and fairness accordingly. He has championed the Champions before they won leagues, cups and trophies (this century). Recently, he translated an interview between Mark McCarthy (Manchester City Match Worn Shirts, MCMWS) and Pete ‘The Badge’ Berry.

这是我和@Waits 还有@二蛋💭 一起运营的公众号，会发一些曼城相关的好玩内容。欢迎订阅！
Miranda, @Waits and @二蛋 are running this public account. It will share some interesting content about City on it. Come and subscribe！Go on!

His favourite game remains City beating Tottenham Hotspurs having gone 3-0 down to come away 4-3 winners. Considering the games that have passed since, he’s sticking to that one game. He even chooses Kevin Keegan as top gaffer over the elite leaders that have managed the Citizens since. He told me once that he translated subtitles for There’s Only One Jimmy Grimble! Hey Manchester City China, “Go on, give it to Waits!”

Shenzhen Blues in Zhangye… and a mad Aussie called Oliver.

Waits has much more to him than football. Whilst he plays it with students and local Zhangye folk, he can often be found strumming his guitar. A few renditions of Blue Moon have been heard over the years. And, in recent years he has welcomed Amos to his family alongside Mrs Waits. The family can enjoy tales of how Waits was raised on a cavalry base by his mother and father. They can discover their Sichuanese heritage, without taking a panda! Whilst Waits asked more questions, than I asked him, when he spoke, he spoke in an articulated way about all manner of things. I learned about Zhangye’s three Buddha statues. One standing, one crouching (tired) and one resting.

Wandering chitchat Blues

One thing, I can say about Waits is that his English is fantastic. He asked me, “What do you think of my English accent?” I think I hurt him, with my joking response, “It sounds Chinese.” In actual fact, his English is very clear and follows a British tone similar to that found on Downton Abbey and other TV drama shows set in England. I probably have only met a dozen Chinese-born people who have such a great spoken English accent. Obviously, Waits is not speaking Mancunian-nasal tones but his heart is definitely in it! Innit.

A small snack of kidney, liver, stomach, intestines and breads. The local Zhangye food was delicious!

Ode to Hart


Time, flows in passing days,
Memories, flashes now and then,
And my tears, reluctantly falling,
Falling like I’m faking falsely by no means.

No more you on the pitch
No more your passion, your shouting and your encouragement
No more your commitment, no more your fighting, your joy and regret
Because I know, gone is gone
Like your waving to us
Your clapping, and your farewell words

“We are all grown man, we get over with it.”
Happy 30th, my HART. Happy everyday
It’s not something I won’t let go
It’s you.

They may forget, but I won’t
They may laugh, and I won’t
Neither will I forget nor will I laugh
I will keep it in my heart and keep you my SOUL AND HART

 Waits [April 19th, 2017]

Dinner and a local brew.

I hope that the next time I see Waits, we can enjoy a good old chinwag and I’ll get to know more about him. It was good to hear him talk with enthusiasm about how my Mum with Paul visited him on his trip to Manchester to see his first City game. I liked his response to how a City steward offered him tickets to Old Trafford swamp to see that lot play and he flat out refused, pointing to his badge. Pride in battle indeed. Until next time I meet Waits, I consider him a great friend and a wonderful person to know (with great English).

  1. 你为什么追随曼城？Why do you follow Manchester City?
  2. 你最深刻的曼城记忆是什么？What’s your favourite Manchester City memory?
  3. 你最钟情的曼城球衣是哪几件？What are your favourite Manchester City shirts?
  4. 说出你心目中的曼城最佳阵容。Name your all-time Manchester City XI (eleven).
  5. 这个赛季最终的结果将会如何？How will this season end?
  6. 你去过曼彻斯特吗？如果没有，你梦想去那里旅行吗？Have you been to Manchester? If not, do you dream to travel there?
  7. 在中国，你会推荐外国城迷们去哪里参观？他们应该尝尝哪些中国的食物呢？Where do you recommend City fans see in China? What food should they try?

如需提交您的问题或者答案，请发送电子邮件至 acton28@hotmail.co.uk，或者联系微信：acton28

To submit your questions and answers, please e-mail acton28@hotmail.co.uk or send a WeChat message to: acton28.

Rain! Rain! Rain!

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How do,

“Rain, rain, rain, a wicked rain
Falling from the sky
Down, down, down, pouring down
Upon the night
Well there’s just one chance in a million
That someday we’ll make it out alive” – Wicked Rain, Los Lobos

Pluviophile means a lover of rain. I heard that people who identify as lovers of rain are generally down to earth and calm. I’ve even been told that daydreamers and those inclined to imagine are usually associated with that of rain. I’ve never fact checked these matters as I was too busy dreaming.

The beat of the rain droplets finding their way from way up high to land and join their countless companions. Some land on trees. Some impact puddles. Many land and immediately get swept away.

Many days without rain make my heart feel dry and untouched. Rain is my pacemaker. I’m from Manchester, a city with a heart of regular rainfall. I now in Dongguan, a city that gets a fair amount of showers throughout monsoon season. Every drop of life that falls from the sky brings

The energy of the downpour fills me. The damp smell opens my nostrils. It fills my lungs and soaks into my blood. I’m drawn to puddles and want to stamp in them, no matter the cost to my sodden shoes. That’s when I know that running is needed. Not in sun. Not in cold. Not on a dry hot evening blazing with colourful light. No. I choose rain.

Thank you kindly and ta’ra for now!

Best of British.

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How do/你好,

It’s been over twenty months since I stepped on the soil of Great Britain. I’m not saying everything is roses and sweet gooseberries but I miss so much about the lands I was raised in. I want to feel the winds off the Irish Sea, the saturating rains of the Lake District, and see the fluffy clouds over the Pennines.

I long to see my family, friends, football and food. I want to visit my ancestral connections and toast my grandparents. I want to wander down lanes and places to reminisce about my dog Pup and all those days gone by. I don’t feel old but I do miss the ability to choose to visit my past and explore the future of my homelands.

I haven’t visited a proper charity shop or heard the term Bric-a-brac in so long now that even passing a construction site here in Dongguan excites me. Some discarded or unwanted piece of summat or t’other may grab my eye. Or land me in hospital with need for a tetanus jab.

I want to hug my sisters, brothers, uncles and aunts, Mum and Dad and all the other members of my scattered tribe. Nattering, sharing good foods, talking nonsense and stories, or catching up like it was yesterday. The new norm? No. We’ll carry on, just like we always did. Keep calm and drink Vimto.

Yes, I love my job and can keep busy but the longer this goes on, the bigger then pull grows. It’s tugging at emotions and connections that are strong and resolute. But even hours for the confident can be testing. Home sweet home? I’m looking for my home. I’m comfortable and content here. Opportunity is knocking on the door and chance is presenting a good hand in? life’s game of cards. Just there’s no Whitby scampy. No fish and chips, like back home.

They talk funny here but not like the funny there. I miss St Helens, Wigan, Glossop, Lancaster and all those diverse accents that are so close to home, yet so far. Winter Hill, I miss it too. The slopes, the towering vast plains and the bleak beauty under grey cool skies.

Road signs. Bus stops. Proper speed bumps. Those bubbles that appear in warm tarmac. Rhubarb crumble. Manchester tarts. Live music almost everyday, every where. Yes, I know, things have changed. No thanks to COVID-19 but the good times will return.

Manchester City versus Everton sees the return of fans. Sing like you’ve been stuck indoors for months. Champions of England. We know what we are. MCFC, ok.

Ta’ra. 再见

‘Wooden trumpet’

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Nihao/How do/Hello/S’mae,

Congratulations to Aberystwyth Town (founder members of the League of Wales in 1992) on avoiding the bottom two for 29 straight seasons. Alongside Newtown FC, both have remained ever present. Good luck to the Robins of Newtown as they chase a place in Europe. Further congratulations to Andy Morrison’s Connah’s Quay Nomads on retaining the Cymru Premier (previously Welsh Premier League/League of Wales) title. The Nomads ensured the title did not cross the border to England-based The New Saints.

To decide on something, as an individual is easy. To decide as a group, lesser so. As the world and its dog takes on China over various sensitive issues, I sit in relative freedom of Dongguan, thinking of the week ahead. I’m lucky. I’m working. Others around the world are not. Those last few sentences were written almost two months ago. They still apply now. They may still apply to some regions as variations of COVID-19 ravage and unravel around the globe. Good luck to all in the battle against the pesky persistence of coronavirus.

“This is how a democracy works. We talk to each other.” – quote from the dialogue of Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice

On April 11th 2020, Saturday Night Live featured Alec Baldwin playing Donald Trump. He was drinking COVID juice based on Clorox bleach talking as Covfefe-19. It referred to Donald Trump’s former Twitter account and a message he posted on May 30th 2017 (‘Despite the constant negative press covfefe’). Now the world has staircase-fearing Joe Biden. Since Trump departed (on his own free will, with graciousness of course), President of the U.S.A. Biden has given a new hope to growing East and West closer together whilst keeping Russia and the European Union sweet. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland are also cosy with U.S.A. after distancing itself from floundering Trump’s administration and its death throes.

I was born in a member state of the E.U. Now, I am a national of an independent U.K. in a world that seems to be simultaneously getting closer yet fragmenting. Our shared fate may be staring at the abyss making predicted violent struggling motions showing great pains but it doesn’t have to be this way. Instead of having a standing competition to see who can urinate higher than the other, Biden’s administration could have headed to Alaska to talk to China constructively. Instead, a confident Chinese delegation showed no weakness. Across the table from Team America World Police, angry signals could be seen from the world’s 3rd of 4th biggest country (surface area) – depending on your source. Anyway without Trump, the world, even during COVID-19 and arguments between countries seems a much more pleasant place. It’s made me long for the path of optimism. Pumped up on my first vaccination against the 2019 version of the plague, I think borders will re-open sooner or later, and Euro 2020 football will join the Tokyo Olympic Games of 2020 in 2021. With City claiming the EFL League Cup and the Premier League on their march to Istanbul Wembley Villa Park Porto in the UEFA Champions League final, why not have a cause of feeling positive? The Estádio do Dragão may be a stadium of dragons, but isn’t 2021 the year to banish beasts? And, I’ll be joining Shenzhen Blues at 3am one Saturday night-Sunday morning to hope that City banish their quest for Europe’s biggest title…

“Please take my hand. I give it to you as a gesture of friendship and love, and of faith freely given. I give you my hand and welcome you into my dream.” – Wonder Woman, comic episode 167

Banishing beasts takes determination. Much like realising a dream. My dream of playing a musical instrument successfully is now. Now, I’ve paid for some classes, and I have two tools here. Terre World Instruments sent me my wind instrument. The didgeridoo (also known as a mandapul) can be found in plastic, redwood, yellow wood, bamboo and other wooden forms. Mine is made of Eucalyptus (a yellow wood). It’s tuned to D, I believe but can be tuned in other notes. It’s 180cm long and came in packaging longer than my body. The dense sound characteristics are fantastic. It booms from lineseed oil-finished wood, both inside and out. Luka, my teacher, also helped me get a wooden Didgebox .

“…don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it.” – Wonder Woman, comic episode 25

The spiritual instrument has always intrigued me. Stephen Boakes from The Levellers calls it a ‘wooden trumpet’. The former Klanger and the Soupdragons band member has featured over the years for folk rockers The Levellers yet not one mention of the lad can be found on their Wikipedia page (a reliable place of purity and facts). This is a travesty. Nor can the word didgeridoo be found. Boakes is a punky player of the norther Australian Aboriginal people. It’s been around roughly 1500 years and carries haunting spiritual sounds. The touring electrician from Brighton has fitted his take on the yiḏaki* wind instrument into the ethos of the band since at least 1993’s Levellers album. The mako* sounds at home on song, This Garden.

Djalu Gurruwiwi, Ondrej Smeykal (Czech), Ganga Giri, David Hudson, Mark Atkins and Shibaten may not be household names. Indeed to most, they’re just a list that I prepared for my journey into the spirit of the didgeridoo sound. Possibly one of the world’s oldest wind instruments doesn’t have a reed, finger holes or other hand-eye coordination pieces. The voice box is the key. Practice will be needed. I’m far, far away from kookaburra sounds or other Australian wildlife but David Hudson and Luka are explaining things and giving me techniques to help along the way. And it can also be a drum. I’m learning control before speed. Dubravko Lapaine has ample amounts of speed in his training instructions and technique tips but highlights the need for slow learning. That, and I need to get some beeswax to make a smooth rim. That will seal in the air better.

Sharp raspberries are needed for this instrument that has probably been around 1000-1500 years or so. Softly blowing the musical piece (with about 45 names) is needed. Twangs and wobbly tongues too. Every time you b low out, your nose must suck in air, which is not easy! And relax, that’s the advice. Each day means more practice and more air being pushed into the lungs and not just in the cheeks! It is hard! All the while, I am practising to inspirational combinations such as the Australian Youth Orchestra with William Barton (Spirit Gallery Didgeridoos).

Maybe in the future I’ll buy one of Charlie McMahon‘s didjeribones. These sliding version is closer to a trombone. He invented this instrument which has a modern twist on an ancient tool of sound. Early Jamiroquai song When You Gonna Learn featured a didgeridoo.

“I’m asking: Oh, when you gonna learn? To stop it goin’ on?;
Now when you gonna learn? To stop it goin’ on?” – Jamiroquai song When You Gonna Learn

With that, goodbye, zai jian and ta’ra! I’m off to confirm that the 2005 British Medical Journal study about playing the didgeridoo has health benefits or not.

Hwyl fawr!