PotCVIIpouri

I had intended to post yesterday about the conclusion to last week's game, to clear the decks ready for this week's return to siege works in the annexe. However, in the circumstances I inevitably spent the day in a self-indulgent Rolling Stones marathon. I'm a big fan, originally I think because the elder brother of the chap who lived next door to one of my best friends at school had all the early albums; and if that's not a good enough reason then I don't know what is. The death of an eighty year old shouldn't come as a shock, but it did because they had always been there and I implicitly assumed that they always would be. RIP Charlie.

In any event, there wasn't much to write about the game because it swiftly ended in defeat when the British Light Division ran away. I had posed the question as to what to do with one unit which was toe to toe with the French, but it was moot because they were destroyed before I had a chance to do anything. I remain a bit sceptical about the rules as they stand, but - and I urge you to suspend disbelief - it is quite possible that I'm wrong. We need to play them some more.

Rules that do seem to (mostly) work are 'Vauban's Wars', which we have now had a chance to try properly. I had set up the game a couple of months ago now, but never played it solo it because it was too hot, then it wasn't hot enough, then it rained, and then I couldn't be arsed. But last night we assembled Peter as the garrison, the Chuckle Brothers as the besiegers, and me in charge of frantically flicking through the rulebook. It all went fairly well and is, as I had thought it might be, a different and better game when not played solo.

The besiegers have thrown up some gun emplacements close enough from which to attack the ravelin in the photo. The first siege guns moved forwards were driven back by counterbattery fire, but were quickly replaced. The numbers are the strengths of the defences, which were established by astute use of the French master spy, who has so far been successful in every mission on which he - or perhaps she - has been sent. The ravelin had an initial strength of 5, but the guns have quickly reduced that. In fact, the attack dice rolled higher than the defence dice throughout the evening, on both sides. The game will hopefully be completed next week. 

Mary, Don't You Weep

I have been to see 'Amazing Grace', the documentary of Aretha Franklin recording a live gospel album in January 1972. It's every bit as good as all the reviews say. Mind you, I wouldn't believe everything you read. Mick Jagger is in the second night audience and I saw one critic claim that this was a direct influence on 'Exile on Main Street'. Maybe, maybe not. The fact that the Stones' masterpiece had already been recorded by then would suggest the latter to me. One thing very noticeable to your bloggist was that everyone is clapping in time; look and learn British audiences, look and learn.

I also went to see 'Booksmart', the first hour of which I thoroughly enjoyed. I then suddenly felt rather nauseated. It got worse and, having visions of being Uncle Dick all over the people in the row in front, I made a hurried exit.

So, one film strongly recommended and one recommended with the caveat that I never saw the second half.

Knitted garment that opens at the front

"A younger woman who hangs around older men" -  definition of 'cardigan' according to urbandictionary.com

I have been re-reading Flashman, mainly I must admit because it was available for 99p as one of Amazon's Kindle e-books of the day and I felt like some light reading. One character who plays a prominent role at the beginning of the book is James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan. Famous of course for leading the Charge of the Light Brigade in 1854, at the time the book is set he was Commanding Officer of the 11th Light Dragoons, into which our anti-hero is commissioned. The Brudenell family owned a lot of land in what are now the Woodhouse Moor and Hyde Park areas of Leeds, to the north of the university, and local place names still reflect this. There is a Cardigan Road (indeed it's where the recent opera festival was held) and, more pertinently for today's post, there is the Brudenell Social Club, one of Leeds' most prominent music venues.

I have been there to see the Devon Allman Project. The project bit represents the fact that since I last saw Allman, his father died and he decided it would be appropriate to feature more Allman Brothers music in his act. To help with this he has recruited Duane Betts, son of Dickie and obviously named after Duane, as opening act/sideman. It certainly all hit the spot for me. You will have gathered from reading the blog that by and large my musical heart lies in the blues/rock of the early seventies, and from the second song in when Betts did a cover of 'Silver Train' from the Stones' 1973 album Goats Head Soup, I was up for it. So were the rest of the audience, especially a somewhat incongruous party of Norwegians down at the front. They stood out partly because a couple of them were around 6' 9" - for once I don't exaggerate - and partly because the availability of beer for less than £15 a pint had left them all rather exuberant. One of them called out, loudly and repeatedly, for 'Free Bird', which amused those watching quite a lot more than it did Allman himself.

A highlight was an extended version 'Blue Sky', written by Dickie Betts, so here's the original:

Sarah, Sarah, Sitting in a Shoe Shine Shop

I have been to see Ben Waters. He is an exponent of the boogie-woogie piano (he was the entertainment at Jools Holland's wedding if that puts him into context), and I confess I was feeling a certain trepidation at the thought of sitting through two hours' worth of eight to the bar and walking blues bass lines, accompanied no doubt by out of time handclapping from the audience. I was however, more than pleasantly surprised, because Waters mixed up the musical styles with plenty of rock & roll, plus some less expected covers such as the Kinks, the Beatles and ABBA. On top of which he was an amusing and entertaining raconteur. I was aware that he had connections with the Rolling Stones and he had several anecdotes about the various band members; although to be honest if you can't make something funny out of material like Jagger and Richards then you're in the wrong business.

He also told a number of stories about his mentor, the man who, himself steeped in the traditions, passed on the tricks of this particular piano style (and incidentally taught Waters very well because I had a good view of the keys and his hands were an absolute blur as he played). Given that this is a type of music that originated in New Orleans a century and more ago you can imagine the sort of mental image I had as he spoke. All of which proves that one should never jump to conclusions because the chap in question turned out to hail from Ilkley, and furthermore was sitting in the audience. Thus it was that a sprightly Yorkshire pensioner took to the stage, banged out a few numbers and regaled the audience with his own yarns about playing with Fats Domino, Dr John and the like; although sadly not Professor Longhair, perhaps that would have been too much to ask for. It's a funny old world.

One expectation that wasn't dashed - the audience clapped completely out of time all the way through.

We need some music at this point. Here's something from Fats Domino that speaks to me for some reason:

Brown eyed handsome man

There's only one subject worth writing about today. He might not have been a nice man - indeed I heard Bill Wyman use pretty much those exact words once - but...

That's Albert Lee in the Emmylou Harris video, proving once again that everything is connected to everything else; and yes, that is Elkie Brooks singing backing vocals behind Marc Bolan, Dave Edmunds and, er, Alvin Stardust.

Ready, willing and able

I can assure readers that they are not the only ones who wish that there was more wargaming on here (I exclude the big, bouncy woman from that; I don't think she bothers to read those posts). However, recently the only hobby activity undertaken has been a bit of desultory painting and the scheduling of a smoke barrage for Sidi Rezegh: the Prequel. I think I've put it in the right place, but all I've got to work with is an upside down map and a photo in which my own forces are in focus, but the opposition are not. I appreciate that Rommel - I rolled high and am the Germans - also operated with less than perfect information, but then again he knew what he was doing.

"Vy eez zis map ubside down?"

So instead let me write about Albert Lee, whom I have been to see. The last time I saw him he was in Bill Wyman's backing band and the time before that he was with Hogan's Heroes. Now he is fronting his own small but excellent group, which unexpectedly includes Genghis Khan's more affable twin brother on honky tonk piano and occasional accordion. Lee of course has been influenced more by the country music end of the rock and roll spectrum (he had a decades long musical association with the Everly Brothers) rather than the blues end (although he also played with Clapton). The songs played reflected that, being associated with performers such as Carl Perkins, Gram Parsons and Emmylou Harris. It's not news that he is a sensational guitarist, but what amazes me - admittedly as a non-musician myself - is that he does it all unaided. At a time when every wannabe playing in pub bands uses a variety of effects pedals, several guitars, capos, funny tunings etc., Lee makes it all happen on one instrument with only a plectrum and a tremolo arm; most impressive.

My evening was further enhanced by a member of the audience wearing brushed cotton loon pants such as used to be advertised in the back of the NME when I was an undergraduate. And some people call the seventies the decade that fashion forgot; how wrong were they?

Not the review of 2016

I inadvertently published a post yesterday entitled 'Review of 2016' prompting one keen reader - that would be you Mr Freitag - to tell me that I had left out the real highlight of my year. Maybe I did, or maybe I am optimistic that the best day of the year is yet to come. Currently I'm forecasting Friday October 21st to be very good; who knows, there could be others. In any event that post - an aide memoire for when I do post my eagerly anticipated review of the full year - has been reverted to draft.

As such it has been added to with yet more stuff. I have been to the cinema a couple of times, both films having a Latin American tinge. Firstly I went to see 'Que Horas Ela Volta?', a Brazilian film from last year, which was both funny and a microcosm of class conflict as described by Marx and Engels in The Communist Manifesto. Secondly I went to see 'Havana Moon', the film of the Rolling Stones concert in Cuba earlier this year. There wasn't much socialist theory going on there, despite Jagger referring to Richards as his compadre. There was, however, a huge amount of energy on display from four people who are even older than your bloggist, and have lived - how can I put this? - full lives. Anyway, if you like the Rolling Stones (and I do) then this contains some very impressive performances of songs such as 'Midnight Rambler', 'Paint It Black' and all the well known stuff. Jagger has to look ridiculous at some point in proceedings, presumably it's contractual, and here it is on 'Sympathy for the Devil' where he dons an ill-advised coat that reminded me less of the devil than of Giant Haystacks, the wrestler.

How to grow tomatoes

The recent uncalled for appearance in this blog of cats and nudity has prompted a rash of correspondence, almost all of which is related to the latter subject. So much so that I am afraid that I must declare this topic closed. I was going to make an exception for the detailed, albeit unlikely, advice which I received as to how best to achieve a growth spurt from one's tomato plants. However, this blog's motto is seeing is believing and in the absence of photographs - of the tomato plants obviously - I cannot in good conscience post anything. Let's just say that I would be surprised if any of my readers had in their possession the necessary item of clothing.

I saw the rather excellent Adrian Byron Burns last night. He has played with regular blog-featured artists such as Bill Wyman and Albert Lee and been opening act for Neil Young among others. How he then finds himself performing in the Junction Inn, Otley in front of fifty people, only half a dozen of whom are paying any attention, was a mystery I pondered as I watched him repeatedly return to the bar for another whisky. A first rate guitarist with a deep, deep voice, his repertoire ranged from Little Feat and Smokey Robinson covers to songs associated with (though not originally by) Led Zeppelin, Jimi Hendrix and Big Bill Broonzy. Very good, though a little sad. As an aside, of those in the pub who had gone specifically for the music I was the only one who didn't look like Gandalf; my loss I think.

L'Absence

I have been absent for a couple of days partly due to the sheer uselessness of Windows 10 and partly due to nothing much happening chez Epictetus.

Here, especially for those among you who have recently suffered 'grands désirs inapaisés' due to 'entre nos coeurs quelle distance, tant d'espace entre nos baisers', Rufus Wainwright sings Hector Berlioz:

And this is the Stones:

Bring it on home to me

I have been to see the excellent Lisa Mills in concert at the Caroline Street Social Club, which is a proper Phoenix Nights style working mens' club complete with bingo going on in the other bar. It proved however to be a very good venue (except for the lack of alcohol free beer) and was packed.

Ms Mills hails from Mississippi and currently lives in Mobile, Alabama so I'm not entirely sure what she made of Saltaire (indeed her website claims that it's in Wales), although as it's a World Heritage Site I hope that she found time to have a look round. Being typically keen to please as Americans always are, she told the audience that it was as hot and humid in Bradford as it was back home. In the interests of accuracy I must point out that it, er, wasn't.

Still, one doesn't come to see her for meteorological reports, one comes for the voice; and what a voice it is. She has toured with Big Brother and the Holding Company as guest lead vocalist and Janis Joplin is a reasonable starting point for describing the type of singer she is. Mills was happy to take on songs closely associated with artists such as Dusty Springfield, Aretha Franklin, Nina Simone and Sam Cooke and demonstrated the vocal chops to justify that. Her repertoire covered blues, gospel, soul and country and she was equally adept at them all. She has worked with people such as Andy Fairweather Low, who I last saw in Eric Clapton's band, and Albert Lee, who I last saw in Bill Wyman's band.

Anyway, don't believe me, judge for yourself. I chose the first song below, partly for the lyrics (listen carefully Crumb) and partly because the original idea for the song came from the CFO at the company owned by her brother. That's right, it's at the intersection of accountancy and the blues; a bit like your bloggist really.

The second song that I've chosen is a cover of Irma Thomas' "It's Raining", because, as we know, Ms Mills also dabbles in weather reports.

The quack who's gone to the dogs

 "Everyone knows rock attained perfection in 1974, it's a scientific fact." - Homer Simpson

I went to see Dr Bob and the Bluesmakers last night, a band who I hope so very much took their name from the character played by Rowlf on the Muppets that I am going to make no attempt to find out the truth.

"You're right, Fred is a terrible name for a hospital."

Unsurprisingly they played the blues, and played them very well. A fairly classic lineup of two guitars, bass, drums and harmonica were fronted by a female vocalist noticeably younger than the rest of them. Their repertoire leaned heavily on Peter Green era Fleetwood Mac type stuff plus more soul/jazz standards such "I'd Rather Go Blind" and "Stormy Monday" which suited the lead singer's voice very well. They also performed their own compositions which sounded good, especially to those of us who believe that Homer had it right (1).

Among their encores was "Shake Your Hips", nominally a Slim Harpo cover, but actually heavily reliant on the Rolling Stones version of the song on Exile on Main Street; and none the worse for that.

Didn't move her head,
Didn't move her hands,
Didn't move her lips,
Just shook her hips.
Do the hip shake, babe,
Do the hip shake, babe,
Shake your hip, babe,
Shake your hip, babe,
Well ain't that easy. 

(1) astonishingly it is now virtually as long since the first broadcast of the episode of the Simpsons from which that quote was taken, as it was between then and 1974.

How can a poor man stand such times and live?

Bill Wyman's Rhythm Kings obviously weren't sufficient in the way of geriatric British bluesmen and so it was off to the King's Hall to see 'The Blues Band'. Not that front man Paul Jones - of the Radio 2 Rhythm & Blues show - looked all that old and he managed a few more high kicks than I'd like to try. Tom McGuinness however did, even when rather showily playing his guitar behind his head.

I've been listening to Jones' show for so long that I am one of those who believe it should never have moved from Thursday at 8pm (and that must have happened around ten years ago) so it was slightly disconcerting to hear his speaking voice in a different context. His singing voice and harmonica style were of course familiar. The band played mostly stuff from old blues guys - Elmore James, Son House, Slim Harpo, Howlin' Wolf and the like, but also songs by Dylan, Ry Cooder and, unexpectedly for me anyway, Gil Scott Heron. They were excellent, as will be of no surprise to anyone, and I invested in a Best Of CD to while away the commute.

The King's Hall Ilkley will not be televised

The only downside to the evening was an appearance on stage by the publicity junkie Anne Hawkesworth, a name which will mean nothing to those outside Bradford, but which is all too familiar to those in Ilkley. Thankfully there is one blog from which she is forever barred.

Doh!

(Si si) Je suis un rock star

This is another music post, which, as the blog has acquired a new reader with expertise in that subject, leaves me rather nervous. It makes one nostalgic for the old days of nothing but a couple of wargamers in their dotage and the trusty Russian spambots. Anyway, be that as it may, I have been to see Bill Wyman’s Rhythm Kings and I need to write about it.

Zank 'eaven....

I hadn’t seen Wyman perform live since Knebworth 1976 at which the Stones notoriously failed to appear until the early hours of the morning. The assumption at the time was of backstage debauchery, of sex and drugs getting in the way of rock’n’roll, but I think these days it’s generally accepted that there was a genuine, boring technical hitch rather than anything more glamorously decadent. The end effect was the same whatever the cause: most people had to watch the set through a haze of tiredness. Not me though. I had been asleep all day, suffering – and I mean suffering – from too many Hosepipes the night before. I briefly came round for 10cc, was OK for Lynryd Skynryd and was fighting fit when the headliners appeared.

So, to the Grand thirty seven years later to find that despite all his excesses Wyman appears to have aged better than me. Certainly musically he was on fine form, as were his band. Unfortunately Georgie Fame was in hospital with pneumonia, but the rest were all excellent. Albert Lee was, almost inevitably, the stand out, but the others – including guest vocalist Maria Muldaur – were no slouches. My personal preference was for the Chicago blues numbers they did (including a belting cover of a Little Walter song the name of which escapes me for the moment), but the version of ‘This is a Man’s World’ sung by Beverly Skeete was also first class. (As a digression, the only time I ever saw James Brown himself that was also the highlight of the set).

I made the point in previous posts that some performers clearly don’t like singing the song with which they are most associated (Elkie Brooks with ‘Pearl’s a Singer’, Ralph McTell with ‘Streets of London’), but Muldaur – someone who hung out with Dylan in New York and appeared regularly with the Grateful Dead – didn’t seem to mind performing ‘Midnight at the Oasis’ at all. It didn’t make it any better though. There weren’t any Stones songs, although there were a few that they had covered such as Irma Thomas’s ‘Time Is On My Side’. Introducing the final encore Wyman announced that he didn’t like the songwriter of the piece they were going to finish with, and I wondered who could have had that effect on the mild-mannered bass player. It turned out to be Chuck Berry and was therefore entirely understandable.

The inventors of the Hosepipe

Upon re-reading this it occurs to me that some of you may not be fully aware of the contents of a Hosepipe. To make one take a pint glass and put in a half of draft Guinness, a bottle of barley wine and a double brandy. It is delicious, with the bitter taste of the stout offset by the sweetness of the barley wine and the warmth of the brandy (you must imagine that description being said in the voice of the man from the Cointreau advert of days gone by), but to avoid the hangover from hell one shouldn’t drink more than the appropriate number. For the avoidance of doubt, the appropriate number is none whatsoever.

G-L-O-R-I-I-I-I-I-A!!

There is a children's funfair outside my apartment as part of the Leeds Waterfront Festival and when they opened at 11 o'clock this morning the CD that they played was the Best of Van Morrison. The children of Leeds must have very well developed musical taste if that is what attracts them to roundabouts and bouncy castles.

Playin' a new game,
Laughing and a running hey, hey
Skipping and a jumping

And what about the Stones at Glastonbury? Rather good I thought; Midnight Rambler being a particular tour de force. But, 2000 Light Years From Home? Why?

This afternoon/evening saw a record turnout for boardgames at the White Swan. I played Love Letter, Ice Flow, Vineta and Guillotine thereby effecting a nice balance between card games and boardgames proper. Others played an awful lot of Dominion (a nice mechanism in search of a game) and K2 which I rather liked the look of and would like to give a try.

Pot2pouri

On Wednesday last week James and Peter were kind enough to praise my blog, Peter even going so far as to describe it as 'erudite'. Naturally since then I have had complete writer's block. However, I have begun to experience a gradual rising of my mojo so here we go again. But first, James has complained that I only showed a photo of Peter in my game report. To redress the balance here is one of James ready to take the initiative.

 

There have been some other things of note:

I went to see 'Behind the Candelabra' which has mysteriously only been released in cinemas outside of the US. Now I'm not saying that this because we Europeans are more sophisticated than the Yanks, but, er, well yes I am actually. I suspect that Americans are not yet ready to face the awful truth that Liberace was not only (plot spoiler) gay, but also (another plot spoiler) wore a wig. Anyway, Michael Douglas and Matt Damon are both excellent, but their thunder is stolen by Rob Lowe as a truly scary (and scary looking) plastic surgeon. For Leeds residents only, the bald version of Liberace looks just like the chap who sells the Big Issue outside HMV.

Presumably US citizens have got other things on their minds at the moment, having woken up to discover they are living in a police state.

• • 

  • "I told you so."

I went to see a band in the pub who weren't the usual dad-rockers. This bunch were quite young and, whilst a covers band, took it all very seriously; and any band that finishes with Paranoid and Ace of Spades is OK with me. They did a fair enough version of Gimme Shelter which reminded me that it is almost exactly 40 years since I saw the Stones open with that at the Empire Pool, Wembley. Bugger me I'm old.

Goat's Head Soup

I was listening to this in the car yesterday as I drove across the moors near Skipton and it occurred to me with a certain amount of shock that it was released forty years ago.

I can vividly remember that summer - well bits of it anyway. And all those that I was knocking around with then - ooh, what happened to you, whatever happened to me, what became of the people, we used to be? Actually, an awful lot of them are washed-up has-beens rather like me.

When I think back to that summer I also always think firstly about the future mayor of Harpenden - for obvious reasons - and then about the lime in the coconut. Vicious, you hit me with a flower.

Wargaming relevance - zippo.

So me and you, just we two got to search for something new

The above lines from Roxy Music's 'Virginia Plain' (surely the best debut single ever) were quoted in the Guardian this morning, which served to remind me that the lyric also references Robert E. Lee.

Neither the commander of the Confederate Army of Northern Virginia nor a steamboat

 Now that's about as tenuous a wargames connection as you can get, but the staff of the blog are somewhat desperate to up the relevant content. Anyway other Robert E Lee references (to the general rather than to boats named after him) can be found in songs by Johnny Cash and, of course, in 'The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down' by Robbie Robertson which also mentions the Union general George Stoneman.

Not the sister-in-law of Sir Michael Jagger

Granby Halls, Leicester 14th May 1976

I have been reading 'The Rolling Stones 50', a rather large collection of photographs and ephemera celebrating the 50th anniversary of the first Rolling Stones performance. One of the concerts covered is that at the Granby Halls in 1976 which, and I bet you never saw this coming, I didn't attend.

I did have a ticket - I can't recall why it was for the Leicester show, but I do recall getting it via Armers or possibly his mate Diprose - but couldn't go because I was in Bradford Royal Infirmary at the time, due to an altogether unfortunate encounter with a short and dubious woman. (As a slight wargaming related diversion, the chap in the next bed to me had fought at the Battle of Jutland.) I had managed to secure two tickets for the gig; the other was for my old schoolfriend Dave, and on page 260 of the book, top right hand photograph, there he is in the audience.

What a drag it is getting old.