Supercool Sheffield

Hi all. I am sitting at my kitchen table listening to David Guetta and downing cups of tea like there’s no tomorrow (trying to fill myself up as I’ve decided I can’t have any dinner until I’ve updated Brixpig properly). It’s quite a motivating combination, I suggest you give it a go. Today has been pleasingly mellow. I had a trip to Spitalfields and Petticoat Lane markets with my pal Chrissy, where we had a good wander round, followed by sandwich time in the sun next to some ducks (who shunned my Pret red thai crisps, the plebs). I came home with a knock-off Anna Sui coin purse, a million books from an excellent stall featuring loads of Penguin classics – I just can’t resist a little orange paperback – and extracted some questionably patterned scarves from an enormous heap of the things, which were £1 each. So much more productive than, say, running a marathon…

I needed a restful weekend after the adventure to Sheffield of last week for my beautiful pal Helen’s birthday. Far too early last Saturday morning saw me and four friends boarding a train up north from the shiny shell that is St Pancras, and perking ourselves up with bucks fizz (hair of the dog for a couple of us) and jammie dodgers (worked a treat). We had a lovely weekend of catching up, loafing and eating delicious treats, and a great night in Sheffield on Saturday. In our accidental group uniform of block colour dresses + black tights, we hit Zizzi’s for dinner and birthday prosecco, then wandered over to the Common Room for drinks accompanied by random sports broadcasts from all over the globe and some excellent 90s tunes. We headed to The Bowery after that, which I was a big fan of as they lured us in with free sambuca (even though I had to forgo mine due to the previous night catching up with me). They’re a little independent bar that was completely buzzing and served a massive selection of world beers – my choice of (what I think was called) East India pale ale was a good one, and also won me the respect of the barman, which is never a bad thing. Final bar of the night was Revolucion de Cuba which was the bomb. We’re talking Cuban and dancey music, rum cocktails in massive tin teapots, pineapple mojitos, and a friendly, energetic atmosphere. Cannot recommend enough if you’re ever in the area and feeling the need for a rum. I am loving Sheffield from the few times I've visited, and can't wait for my next trip. Get planning some more bars for me Hels!

Right. I am off to iron my newly purchased silk scarves while they are still damp (advice from my mother) and read one of me new books. More soon – I’ve got some serious plans involving beer for the coming weeks.

Brixpig x

Frisky & Mannish

When: Thursday 12^th April

Where: Udderbelly, Southbank

Why: We drunkenly booked tickets for my friend’s birthday. But because we loved them already. And because my friend fancies Mannish.

I’ll go and see anything if it’s performed inside a massive upside down purple cow. Anything, try me. But if it’s Frisky & Mannish then like, double whammy, because their musical magic makes the back of my head ache (from laughter, yeah?). I saw their PopCentre Plus show last year in Finchley as a surprise birthday present and LOVED them. Frisky is my hair idol, she’s got a serious little mermaid business-cut vibe going on.

There was some new material this time, including a STUNNING Made in Chelsea rendition of No No No by Destiny’s Child (“Got me saying no no no no no, got me saying yah yah yah yah yah”), and some Google related puns (“You’ve got to Google for the hero inside yourself” etc). I was also entirely won over by the Dannii Minogue version of Gotye’s Somebody that I used to Know, and think I now prefer it to the original. Seriously, someone should play it to Gotye, he could be onto a winner there. They also performed my number one favourite F&M number, aka Rihanna’s Rudeboy performed in the style of the BeeGees. Nothing not to love about this combination.

The Udderbelly pasture is also like drinking in a leprechaun’s back garden, with loads of special flavours of Magners on tap (pear and ginger, yes please) and dotted with toadstools and multi-coloured lanterns. I’ll be back there on many a summer evening, I’m sure.    

Brixpig x

Noises Off

When: Wednesday 11^th April       

Where: Novello Theatre

Why: Hellooo, under-25 £12 tickets.

How fit is the Novello theatre? If I had to live in a theatre, Phantom stylee, it would definitely be the one I choose. It’s so cute inside: all little narrow corridors and slender dark wood doors leading goodness knows where. There were ladies toilets ALL OVER THE PLACE and it was the first time ever at a London theatre ever that I didn’t have to queue for a wee. Ever. This might not sound like a big thing but I was very appreciative. Plus the stripy wallpaper in the loo was stupendous, and they had green tiles that were VERY Ministry of Magic.

So anyway, yeah, the play was good too. We were in the front row with under-25 £12 tickets, thanks to the clever booking of my thespy pal, and were so close that once it started I felt like I was actually IN the play. Which was actually fine, as it was the kind of full-on, action everywhere, mental farce that you felt totally engulfed by anyway, so I think we really got the proper experience if you ask me. The action was intense and insanely well executed – I have honestly never seen rushing about on a stage done so skilfully, and I’ve seen a LOT of farces at the Tynemouth Priory Theatre… The cumulative layering of hilarity was so relentless that by the end I was reduced to an exhausted, hysterical mess. It could almost have been too much ridiculousness, but they managed to rein it in just enough in the third act to allow me to leave with sides just about intact.

I was looking forward to seeing Celia Imrie (total legend) in the flesh, and she was excellent as expected. The Guardian review described her portrayal of Dotty as ‘a glorious confection of precarious ego and incipient dementia. When she cries out, "I leave the sardines?" she somehow gives the line a riddling philosophical resonance worthy of Beckett.’ Which I whole-heartedly agree with. Janie Dee and Karl Johnson were also brilliantly gigglesome and touching.

We also noticed as we perused the programme that almost everyone in the cast had at some point in their career appeared on Midsomer Murders. I think there was only one person who hadn’t managed it, but they had been in Casualty, which is probably the second most popular entry in an acting CV (closely followed by The Bill) so we forgave them.

Definitely worth a watch. If you’re in need of a couple of hours of escapism and hysteria (and who isn’t?), then get down there asap. Plus you’ll get to see what I mean about the toilets. 

Brixpig x

Ra Ra Ra

Album of the week! 

The Orchard - Ra Ra Riot

Where there is my music collection, there is necessarily Ra Ra Riot. It’s just a law of the universe. They were the soundtrack for me and my friend Helen for the whole of our third year at uni, and I still love them even if I no longer play them every single day… Especially now we have their second album, which I have to say I am grateful for, as my massive overplaying of album number one (The Rhumb Line) was threatening to give me Riot fatigue. The Rhumb Line is fab and does contain the epic cover of Kate Bush’s Suspended in Gaffa, but The Orchard is a bit more peaceful and flows better. I hesitate to use the word slicker, because RRR are endearingly scrappy and energetic, but I think it’s an older sound and is definitely worth a listen.

They’re a five-piece band (although I think the cellist has now left…) from New York who started up in 2006. I first saw them in 2008 supporting Vampire Weekend and instantly went and bought their album from the merch stall. Love at first sight (/hear). I think they appealed to me because there’s a distinctly Fleetwood Mac edge to them (mainly in the songs with female vocals) – and actually when we first saw them, Vampire Weekend did an amazing cover of Everywhere so maybe it’s all connected in my head. One of my favourite tracks from The Orchard is You and I Know which genuinely sounds like a Fleetwood Mac cover (this is a compliment). And I also love them because their music involves strings (violin and cello). Basically any band that uses violins has won me over already, I can’t help it. I even bought a Vanessa Mae album once, in my foolish youth. I’m a thwarted violinist.

In writing this, I’ve also discovered Discovery, which is a side project of RRR and Vampire Weekend’s frontmen, and who have done LOADS of stuff. I cannot believe I didn’t know this before now, I am a rubbish fan. I’m currently listening to their first album called LP, and track 2 is massively entertaining me because it sounds like it was written by the same people who did the soundtrack for Button Moon. What is not to love?

You’ll love Ra Ra Riot if you like:

Vampire Weekend (obv), Death Cab for Cutie, Tokyo Police Club. And Kate Bush.

Here’s the video for the excellent ‘Can You Tell’. You are welcome.

Brixpig x

Bank Holiday

Right, now we’ve got our background music sorted, let’s get on to the real business of the epic update that I’ve got planned. I’ve basically been on a theatre bender over the last couple of weeks, which has been seriously enjoyable and, very importantly, bargainous.

I had my mother and brother to stay with me for the bank holiday weekend, neither of whom had stayed in Brixton before, so I had an excellent time showing them round the sights! Brockwell Park was sort of rained off on Sunday, so we altered our plans to mainly involve more food and a screening of the final Harry Potter film. I’ll take them to the park in the summer when the little train returns (literally my favourite thing ever). I took them for a mini tour of the town, up to the Academy, round the Ritzy, into Brixton Village and pointing out my favourite pubs (Dogstar obviously top of the list). Mum loved the bustle and excellent value fruit and veg of the market, and especially liked falling asleep to the sound of the rooftop club (a joy my brother did not share, the grinch).

FRIDAY saw us being touristy and having coffee in the sunshine around Covent Garden, where I fell in love with a busker. We hit Harrods where my mother insisted on buying Harrods-branded water bowls for our kittens (stay classy), we cooed at some puppies, and I frolicked round the Harry Potter shop – one day that replica Triwizard cup will be mine…

In the afternoon, we trotted around Sloane Square and picnicked outside the Saatchi Gallery before wandering in for a little look round. I actually liked a lot of the stuff in there, particularly the rotating hare who alternately agreed and dissented to something or other (OUI/NON). We went for a pre-show beverage at one of my favourite central London pubs, the Chandos by Trafalgar Square. It’s buzzy, cosy and relaxed and serves Samuel Smiths bevs, a serious draw for me as my favourite Durham pub was also a Sam Smiths establishment.

Sweeeeeeeeneeeeeyyyy.

The entertainment of the evening was Sweeney Todd at the Adelphi theatre (where years previously my friends and I had harassed a very bemused Lee Mead at one of his Joseph previews… ah happy memories). We got day tickets by turning up at 9.40am and queuing behind about 10 earlier risers. These enthusiastic folks meant that we ended up in the back row of the stalls for £25, but they were fairly good seats nevertheless (the main hindrance for me was the enormous head of the bloke in front, rather than distance from the stage). The show was fantastic and absolutely all about Michael Ball and Imelda Staunton, both of whom were utterly impressive and hilarious. The less said about Johanna and her soppy suitor the better – no room in even my generally appreciative world for squeaky insipid actresses – and I have to say, the appearance of the Go Compare man as Pirelli was a bit unexpected… But moving on. The highlight for me had to be ‘A little priest’, which had me hysterical all the way through. The only lowlight of the experience was my brother singing ONE line on repeat for the rest of the weekend (‘To shave-a the faaaace, to trim-a the beeeard’), but I can’t really blame the production for that, I suppose. Imelda was seriously astonishing and gripping and multi-faceted and shone all the way through. Michael Ball was essentially unrecognisable as himself (even through the teeny binoculars) and very impressive, occasionally hilarious, but sometimes I felt he was almost too drawn in and brooding, slightly to the point of not doing very much, especially to one sitting right at the back. But that’s just a small point, he was generally very impressive. I would VERY much recommend popping over for a day seat and getting in to see it, it’s a lot of fun and brilliantly produced, and received the most enthusiastic and unreserved standing ovation I think I’ve ever seen.

SATURDAY saw us hitting Angel to see my place of work, to hop into the Hummingbird Bakery, and to bounce into the Breakfast Club, which is tucked down Camden Passage and whose sunny decoration and friendly staff put it firmly on my list of favourite eateries in London (which is impressive particularly in Angel, which is chockfull of good food). This was my brother’s highlight of the whole trip, and he tucked into a massive plate of American pancakes, maple syrup and bacon, while my mum put away an ‘El Butty’: sausage and egg sandwich but with chorizo. We shared a pitcher of the ‘Return of the Red-eye’ hangover special smoothie (we weren’t hungover but best to ward these things off), which was gloopy and delicious. We followed this feast with a wander round the nearby vintage market and then a trip to Borough Market to pick up some free foodie samples (there’s no filling us up).

Seriously good eyebrows.

That evening we went non-musical, but musically inspired, at Master Class at the Vaudeville Theatre, starring Tyne Daly off of Cagney & Lacey and Judging Amy, and of whom my mum is a big fan. £15 day tickets in the front row were fabulous value and it was such an interesting and brilliantly acted show. Tyne Daly was majestic and supremely convincing as the capricious and contradictory Maria Callas. It has been accused of being sentimental and clichéd as written, but to me it seemed to be almost harsh and true, and bitingly funny, and this is all down to Daly’s delivery and stage presence. The polite and observant pianist added some subtly sweet comic moments (and MASSIVELY amused the old lady sat next to me) with his asides and glances to the audience, and was a perfect foil to the overbearing Callas. Some original recordings played in the background of the flashback scenes, which I was pleased about as I’ve never heard much of Maria Callas and found myself wanting to find out more about her as the play described her prodigious talent. The master class students were also brilliantly played and some of the singing was pretty impressive, if a little bit overwhelming heard from the orchestra pit! I would definitely recommend a viewing before it closes at the end of April, especially if you have any interest at all in singing, and you won’t have to get up as early as the Sweeney fans to guarantee a day ticket. I went to see it for my mum’s sake, but ended up having a great time, which annoyingly just goes to reinforce the fact that she is always right.

The rest of the weekend was spent recovering from all this activity, eating my mother’s birthday cake, and generally having a cracking time with my little family. More is coming up about the remainder of my theatre rampage but for now I’m going for a peanut butter kit kat break (we found them in the vending machine at work today and there was much rejoicing).

Brixpig x

Do be doo dum dum

First off, I owe you an album of the week! Or two. But this is a bumper one that should keep you going for an age, so deal with it.

The Very Best of The Fleetwoods – The Fleetwoods

I am a huge fan of the BBC2 series Roger and Val have just got in, starring Dawn French and Alfred Molina (how could you not be, with those two?) and I always used to find myself humming the theme tune for days afterwards. This gentle, bouncing do-be-do track is called Come Softly to Me and was released in 1959 by a group called the Fleetwoods. It went to number one and they recorded it at home, singing a capella and using the singer’s car keys to provide rhythm – basically they were the Daniel Bedingfield of the sixties.

I obviously had to download it after learning that, and when I hit iTunes I realised that I could download the band’s entire greatest hits album for £3.49. And I say ‘entire’ album, because it contains a majestic 65 tracks. It’s a supremely inoffensive listening experience and perfect retro background music for a dinner party or writing blogs, for example.

Have a listen to Come Softly to Me here, and soothe your ears. 

Brixpig x

Sarah Millican

When: Friday 30^th March

Where: Hammersmith Apollo

Why: Geordie fellowship

I had a right old laugh on Friday night. Thank god for Sarah Millican. If nothing else, I would have been soothed just listening to her voice, because she’s a proper north east lass (I realise not technically Geordie because she’s a South Shields girl, but then I’m not a proper Geordie either…) and tells stories in the same lilting cadences as my Auntie Edna. Some parts of the stories she was telling would never pass over my Auntie Edna’s lips, but it was oddly comforting all the same. Addressing the audience members as ‘pet’ and ‘flower’ also mean you can be proper rude to them but they don’t take offence, which is a serious power of the accent. I love her frankness, saucy and occasionally graphic tales, and the fact that, as she said, she’s at the stage where she likes who she is and accepts her faults, and if anyone else doesn’t, “then they can just fuck off”: but all this is entirely without aggression or arrogance, just banterous honesty. A cracking feminist example, really, who also majorly understands (and advocates) the small pleasures of lady life, such as bra removal time (‘BRT’).

Our show was one of the ones being recorded for the DVD, which was exciting, but whenever the reaction camera panned over our bit of the audience, my face instantly became unacceptably squinty, or I found myself nervously nodding along as if I was at some kind of political rally. Awkward.

One of the main themes of the show was about taking risks in life (“Has anyone ever bungee jumped? … Once? Why did you not do it again? … You shat yourself? Fair enough.”), and two categories for styles of living were proposed. These were ‘dodgem’ – more cautious folks - and ‘bumper car’ – more reckless adventurers. You know if you’re a dodgem if you’re the sort of person who unplugs things before you go out, which is a category I definitely fall into. We were given badges as we left, with either dodgem or bumper car on them, and I now have my dodgem badge stuck proudly on my door.

The rest of the weekend has been pleasing: we hit two barbecues in one day on Saturday, one of which was at the housewarming of two of my friends, who have just bought their own flat. Lots of excited running around and appreciative squeaking at all the cupboard space ensued. Their housewarming present was found in Brixton Village at Brixi (@brixi7 on Twitter), a cute little shop full of odds and ends and handmade things. We got them a picnic/snuggly rug made of Welsh recycled wool which I am a serious fan of. Definitely going to have to get one for myself. Hooray for Brixon Village and its unique gift possibilities. We also went for a small walk around town today in the sunshine, and treated ourselves to a Lab G gelato (located just inside Brixton Village), and I plumped for kiwi and chocolate. Their flavours rotate every day, and there’s always something I haven’t tried before, which seriously does make me keep going back (although I would anyway, because it’s so delicious).  

Back to work tomorrow, but looking forward to the next few weekends. I am currently reading Margaret Atwood’s ‘Robber Bride’ which I am loving and which I’ll do a review of when I finish (love you Brixton library).

Coming up:

-         Easter weekend with my mum and brother, Brixton style

-         Frisky & Mannish at the Udderbelly

-         A Sheffield adventure (cocktail bar recommendations ahoy).

Woop.

Brixpig x

Papa can you hear meeeee?

Weird album of the week time! It's a bit late because Friday night was Sarah Millican night, of which more you will hear imminently. I have also decided to change the feature to just plain old album of the week, because my taste in music really isn't that eclectic, as you would have soon found out. This week, however, is still fairly unusual. So lucky you.   

Yentl: Original Soundtrack

Yes. The time has come for me to share with you all the joy that is the Yentl soundtrack. I have been quoted in the past, regarding this musical experience, as saying “This is perfection, I hope you know.” And I still stand by that remark.

This is the soundtrack of a film of the same name, starring Barbra Streisand as Yentl, a young Jewish girl in 19^th Century Poland. The basic premise is that learning is denied to her as a woman, so when her father dies she seizes the opportunity to leave home and live her life as a man, enrolling in a yeshiva and finally being able to indulge openly in her unquenchable thirst for knowledge. It’s a film that manages to be both simultaneously touching and engaging, and absolutely hilarious (unintentional). It does have a strong element of female empowerment too which is obviously a good thing (but to be fair this is mainly down to the film – I think Yentl’s gender confusion issues are a lot more prevalent in the original story, most notable in the fact that she chooses to keep living as a man at the end...).

It was a Broadway play before Streisand got involved and made it into a film, and is based on a short story by Isaac Bashevis Singer (who famously hates the film). Although it’s cheesy and Streisand is almost entirely unconvincing as a man, it’s still a cracking film and the music is dramatic and stirring and very much features Streisand at her best; in fact, I like it more than anything else she’s ever sung. I think being recorded with a proper orchestra helps – the studio versions of a couple of the songs sound shocking. It also (I have just found out, thank you Wikipedia) won the Oscar for best original music score at the 1983 Academy Awards, which is quite impressive and hopefully validates my obsession a little bit.

I realise this has turned into a bit of a weird film of the week situation, but I apologise for nothing. The soundtrack does mean more if you’ve seen the film, but it is great on its own. I genuinely do listen to it quite a lot (it’s pleasingly incongruous listening to it while on a busy tube). 

Brixpig x