The Drones Club Bristol

drones (mentioned elsewhere in this blog) – the pilotless aircraft, usually controlled by operators thousands of miles away –  ‘deliver’ death and destruction to people all over the world. In Afghanistan, Pakistan, Gaza, Yemen and Somalia they are regularly used against the local populations. They were used in Libya and the UK government, along with the USA, is probably getting them ready to use in Syria and Iran. The Iranians last year successfully captured one that had been flying over their country.

Not many casual readers of the evening paper will be aware  that Bristol is hosting an International Drone ‘Conference’. Thinly disguised as the Bristol International UAV Systems Conference, it brings together academics, manufacturers and users of these weapons to discuss not only how they can be 'further improved' for use in foreign wars but also how they can be used increasingly for surveillance systems at home. In fact 2012 sees the 27^th conference in Bristol. Until this year it had been given added respectability through being hosted by Bristol University. Given the increase in bad publicity attaching to drones, no great surprise to hear that the university now seems to be distancing itself from the conference to an extent, although according to Stop the War Coalition it’s happy to have its name kept in the advertising. 

The conference takes place in central Bristol on Monday 2^ND and Tuesday 3^RD of April  – with a big dinner at Ashton Court on Monday evening. Although uninvited, Bristol Against Arms Trade, Bristol Stop The War Coalition, Bristol Palestine Solidarity Campaign, and several other campaign groups plan on attending.

On a more positive note: Bristol Against The Arms Trade are holding a 'DOWN THE DRONES' conference on Sunday afternoon, APRIL 1^ST. Some well-informed people will explain about the use of drones throughout the world. It runs from 1pm to 6pm at the Arc Cafe Bar, Broad Street Bristol, BS1 2HG
illustration: courtesy of Wikipedia

Anna Stothard

In my review of Anna Stothard's book The Pink Hotel, which is jammed full of bright, noisy imagery, I couldn't help speculating about its chances of being filmed. I've been able to ask Anna herself about that. Thinking of the many 'first goes' that had to wait for the success of the next one before getting printed, I asked her if The Pink Hotel was her first attempt at a novel.

No, she replied - when she was nineteen she wrote a novel called Isabel and Rocco, about a teenage brother and sister abandoned by their parents and living alone in a disintegrating house in Camden Town. It was written from the perspective of the sister, cataloguing all her 'first times' and how each one solidified her further into being an adult.

“I was a very antisocial child though, so there were other attempts before Isabel and Rocco - my first attempt at a full length novel was called Virgin Megastore, about a bunch of teenagers hanging out at the fun fair on Wimbledon Common.

'Then there were two novellas about demonic circus performers and psychic mermaids when I was thirteen.  I found a copy of it in my Dad’s bookshelves recently – sweet that he kept a copy, considering it’s exactly the opposite of what I expect fathers want to know about their adolescent daughter – I was appalled at what was in my thirteen year old head. There are very detailed descriptions of people turning into animals, lots of screaming and groaning and body-transformation, and lots of confused adolescent sexuality.”

- It's very visual, I said - has there been any whiff of interest from film production?

“Yes, excitingly, the contract is being finalised at the moment. It's with an indie company in LA. I'm a big fan of the people involved and very excited, but I don't want to speak too soon. I haven't signed on the dotted line yet...

'Los Angeles is a very visual place. While The Pink Hotel explores the underbelly of the city and hardly touches on "the industry" (except that David, the love interest, is a paparazzi), I wanted the book to feel a little cinematic.”

I’m fairly confident that Pink Hotel could be a damn good movie. If ‘fairly confidant’ sounds lacking in actual confidence, think of (for instance) ‘Bonfire of the Vanities', which on paper reads like a can't-fail blockbuster; but by the time it got produced it came over as rather more ordinaire.
Isabel and Rocco sounds to me like yet another contender for the silver screen. I live in hope... Altogether now: ‘We believe in Tinkerbell!’

AWB in Bristol

This review originally saw daylight around 2007 but since then got filed away in a rare clear-out session.

Average White Band
The Fleece, Bristol 25th May -

　

As the evening takes hold, the gig gradually fills up with Blokes of a Certain Age; mostly mates, but some probably brought by their wives. Thirty years ago it might have been a forest of comb-overs, but bald is the new Brylcreem. There are, though, plenty of under-thirties dotted about, and a gaggle of aggressively healthy matching blondes has captured the frontline.

　

The lights dimmed, the band plugged in, a tape of Billy Connolly taking the piss out of AWB and the actual band took off with a medley of bits, including just enough of 'Pick up the Pieces' to switch on the crowd's pleasure circuits. Beaming smiles all round. Alan introduced 'What does it Take', a tune from their first, 'Gollywog' album, for hard-core fans.

Klyde Jones, recent addition to the line-up, took the stratospheric vocal lead for 'Music is the Queen of my Life', Next up: an instrumental, which after a couple of bars identified itself as, hey, 'Work To Do'. Alan came in on vocal refrain, followed again by Klyde. If we hadn't noticed it already, another welcome addition to AWB is Freddy 'V' Vigdor on saxes and keyboards, keeping that Big Sound intact.

The new drummer, Rocky Bryant, got his star spot in a slab of pure fragmented funk. Rocky looks about as young as Tony Williams would have been when he joined Miles Davis.

　
Deceptive, though- Alan tells me after the gig that Rocky is a lot more grown-up than he appears; it's just that he, like Klyde, hasn't grown the wrinkles we white boys nurture. Other news is that his predecessor, Steve Ferrone, has joined forces with founder member Roger Ball in a West Coast band. When I mention the fact that the front-of-house lady is called Lulu, it leads us to reminiscence about the Scottish music scene in the early 'sixties. Names like The Senate, The Poets and The Hi-fi- Combo are bandied about. Alan's experience goes all the way back to seeing The Silver Beetles. Onnie mentions an ancient Frankie Miller record with tram-cars on the cover. And somehow that takes us to talking about DC Thomson, of Beano and Dandy fame. A great many Scots (including Alan and your correspondent) have at some time worked for DC Thomson, but the only one who got famous was Dudley D Watkins, which seems fair as he devoted his life to writing and drawing Oor Wullie, The Broons, Sparky's Magic Patch, Black Bob the Wonder Dog, Desperate Dan and a good bit more. His weekly workload would have been unremarkable if shared among five or six less devoted mortals. By a strange twist, AWB's first drummer, Robbie McIntosh, is buried beside Watkins.

　

Cut to the gig: More effortless funky swing in 'What Are You Gonna Do For Me'. The sound maybe doesn't have to be cranked up so high - the band's dynamic arrangements aught to be enough to hit the spot. When they pulled back a little for a bass solo from Klyde it worked well, but Onnie's distinctive solos throughout just managed to fly over the strange atonal growl accompanying Alan's bass notes. Alan introduced the next piece, dedicated to 'Scotland's other national drink'. Not as you might guess, Irn Bru, but a slightly more aged beverage, 'McEwan's Export' - nothing to do here but dance. 'You Me and Us' was followed by that old Stranglers favourite, 'Walk on By'. Not immediately recognisable as they have sliced it up and chopped in the funk. 'I'm the One', an excellent anthem for everyone who wants to be in front, segued into the deathless 'Cut the Cake' and here some fundamental change took over on the floor. The crowd, who had up till now been joyfully enthusiastic, got rather wild. It was the end of the two-hour set, but of course everyone wanted more. The encore was the soul-medicine 'Pick up the Pieces' and we all duly got wilder. AWB, generous to a fault, finished for real with a relatively soothing 'Let's go Round Again'.

picture courtesy of wikipedia