Monday, 28 November 2011

Fire in the Taco Bell



I feel no shame in admitting that I literally know about two Electric Six songs, probably the exact same Electric Six songs that most of you all know: Gay bar and Danger! High Voltage. But as a fan of eccentric, light-hearted disco I jumped at the chance to get my grubby little mitts on a last minute ticket to see them in Belfast at the Spring & Airbrake last Friday.

The night started out very well; myself and assorted family members managed to jump the queue by repeatedly asking for 'Tony' and making my brother hobble around precariously on crutches ( he does actually have a fractured leg, but this rouse worked so effortlessly that I vehemently recommend this method to everyone, if you can get your hands on a pair of crutches and the venue's phone number). So by 8.20 or so (ten minutes before doors opened) not only we had secured ourselves a table, but we had first dibs at the empty bar and were effectively living the dream...
Mental Deficiency

Local insaniacs, Mental Deficiency were up first and they tore through a 30 minute set which the crowd seemed to love every second of. They played the classics, culminating in everyone's favourite 'GHHGHB'; Mental Deficiency, promoting respect for women since the dawn of time. To be honest, 30 minutes wasn't nearly enough, but with morph suits, pyjama bottoms, and top hats galore, Mental Def seemed to be the perfect accompaniment to the madness which is Electric Six.

Swound!
Next up, the long awaited Swound!, four guys appeared on stage with an array of plaid shirts, Justin Bieber-esque sweepy fringes and classic indie nerd glasses (prescription or not, you decide). At first sight they really don't look like the kind of band that should be touring (however briefly) with Electric Six, but I have to admit that they were good. Their music was catchy enough and being an impressionable teenage girl, I would definitely give their music a second listen, but the awkward pauses in which they attempted to converse with the audience left me feeling a little uncomfortable and wishing for it all to be over. Swound! you're either going to love them or hate them, as you can probably already tell from their overly punctuated name... Personally, I didn't really think that Swound! were the party starters that they should have been and would have put Mental Def on before E6 in order to kick things up a gear, but hey, each to their own.

Now onto the main event, Electric Six were definitely on fire! Mr Dick Valentine, frontman extraordinaire looked positively homeless; unbrushed hair, baggy ill-fitting suit, crazy wide eyes. This was honestly nothing like the debonair, coiffured, gyrating gentleman which I had expected. Well, as debonair and coiffured as 'Gaybraham Linoln' can be. My favourite aspect of Dick's outfit however, was his super creepy latex gloves which he wore, yet never mentioned.

Now, I'm a fan of a band which engage with the audience, and E6 did not disappoint, from jokes about Ireland, to telling us that Van Morrison's nephew was his drummer, Dick Valentine kept up a lively banter with the audience which seemed effortless. For someone who really didn't know an awful lot of E6 songs, I thoroughly enjoyed their mammoth 15 song set and was even able to sing along to a fair few. Despite this, the best was yet to come as Mr Valentine announced that they "didn't come all this way to play a 15 song set, they'd come all this way to play an 18 song set", suffice to say, the final three songs were well received and everyone left feeling a little bit more camp than they had when the night began.


By Laura Caldwell

Wednesday, 23 November 2011

The 12th Annual Belfast Beer & Cider Festival


Surprisingly I’ve never been to a Beer festival before.  But I did go this year.  I went to the 12th Annual Belfast Beer & Cider Festival held in the Ulster Hall.  I really didn’t know what to expect, so I thought as long as there’s no Harp it’ll be fine.  I’m pleased to report that there was no Harp.

I went on the Saturday (with my brother), which was the last of 3 days that the festival was on, arriving at 1pm.  We paid our £3 entrance fee and £8 for tokens and 1 souvenir Pint Glass and program later we were in the main hall of the Ulster hall. 


The first thing that greets you right in the middle is a massive rig about 20ft high containing about 100 Bizarrely named beers, it was easy to see why it’s billed as the biggest bar in Ireland.





The rig had 4 Bars, each bar was named after a white start liner –Titanic, Olympic, Britannic and Nomadic and each of the 4 bars housed beers from a different region of the UK.  For instance the Titanic Bar was for Belfast Beers from N.Ireland, Wales and the Isle of Man.  There was a stall with traditional Pub games, a CAMRA (Campaign for Real ale) stall and cider corner.  A corner devoted to Ciders, there were about 20 in all.


For the benefit of people who haven’t been to a beer festival before, I’ll explain the system shall I?  Basically you buy a sheet of tokens for £8.  This has 4 x £1.60 tokens and 16 x 10p tokens, when you buy a half pint (we are trying to taste as many as possible after all) depending on the strength, you pay anywhere between £1.60 and £2.  The stronger the beer the more expensive.  So my first half pint, the wonderfully named Bucking Fastard, being only a 4% beer cost £1.60.  But my last Pint, Diablo(6%), was £1.80. I wanted a Pint of the (whisper it) SKULLSPLITTER at 8.9% but alas even at 5:50pm it had sold out.

So my brother and I sat down and enjoyed a few half pints – Bucking Fastard, Ginger Tosser, 99 Red Baboons, Becon buster’s Broomstick.  At 2pm the Band Hot whiskey Came on and the place started filling up, all the tables where full and I decided it was time to sample the Cornish Pasty’s I had eyed on the way in.  The stall manned by the Cornish Pasty Trading Company  who’s shop I’ve walked past a few times on Church street, had an array of different Pasty’s on offer.  In the end I opted for a Steak and gravy and a traditional.  It came to about a fiver for both and I have to say they were really delicious and the perfect accompanying food to a half pint of Ginger Tosser.



At 3pm we had to leave the merriment and music of the main hall and we were whisked to the upper echelons of the Ulster hall for a tutored tasting session.  Helmed by 2 very knowledgeable gentlemen whose names elude me they took us though a history of beer making and gave us 9 different beers to sample. From ales to porters it was a walk through a wide array of different types of beer form the deathly black to the apple juice clear. They talked us through the flavours and aromas in a very similar fashion to wine tasting.  They answered any and all questions that where thrown at them.  Also the craic was great between the 15 or so that where at the session.  I guess people tend to be quite relaxed at a beer festival, who’ve thunk it! It was a great way to spend an hour and well worth the £10 fee.  I would recommend it as a must do for anyone visiting next year.

When we left a short time later the hall was getting really full, so I can only presume it was a massive success. I thought it was a great way to pass an afternoon or even an evening, though I must try and arrive earlier next year to try for a pint of the elusive Skullsplitter!


By Chris Caldwell

Thursday, 10 November 2011

MTV EMA's in Belfast or How Justin Bieber interfered with my Saturday

So the MTV EMA's came and went. Lady Gaga wore a mad hat, a staged Belfastian streaked across the stage, Justin Bieber "killed it" and Selena Gomez was as dull as dish water. I first found out about the EMAs bring in Belfast on twitter, probably like a lot a people, and immediately wondered what it would actually mean to Belfast and most importantly - what it would mean to me.

The first thing i encountered was posters.

Getting off at Belfast Central daily I began to notice that adorning the lamp posts either side of the road on the way into town were these purple posters proclaiming the imminent arrival of said awards. I like purple, it naturally makes people in a better mood. So I was pleased with this.

Walking through Belfast on the Friday night before the EMAs I walked past them building the stage, it looked impressive.

The city hall was lit up like a Jean Michael Jarre concert and looked equally impressive in it's own right.

But the biggest effect it had on me personally was on Saturday. I had a few friends over from Scotland, one just happened to be over, the other was over with an artist that was appearing at the EMAs and since we all had the day off we went for a few drinks. The city was a buzz on Saturday. Kids every where, massive purple posters on buildings, buses and shops. The stage loomed large at city hall reminding everyone what was happening the next night. And as I went to take my mates for a few rums in The Spaniard bar I was greeted by the sight of hundreds of people thronging the end of the street it was on. Then I noticed the whole street was cordoned off by security and police.

As I asked about getting to The Spaniard, 2 words came back ringing in my wars. Justin Bieber. Justin Bloody Bieber. Or Ustin Bieber as a Spanish lady screamed at me on my way skirting round The Merchant Hotel (Where he was allegedly staying). We tried the other side of the street but it was even worse. Girls with Justin on their face, ladies crying and even a few rubber necking spides. I thought Belfast was better than this but ah well. I guess like the EMAs itself when you watch it on TV, it could be just any city in the world when the Beibs is in town. For those of you worried, we just made out way to The Duke of York for a cracking pint of Guinness instead.

I watched the EMA's like 99% of the people did of course.  On my TV.  Belfast looked great, the city represented itself well as a whole and it apparently brought a lot of money in for the province. But what the EMA's meant to me - Drinking Guinness in the Duke of York instead of Rum in The Spaniard.

According to a later tweet from the PSNI the Biebs never was staying in the merchant in the first place. So I guess in the end it wasn't even his fault.

By Chris Caldwell