I recently stumbled upon a bizarre phenomenon - the need for people to classify the music they are into.
Now I know quite a few people who will happily tell me they are into "indie," not realising that this is associated (in my mind) with shite guitar bands which I heard on the Evening Session in the mid-nineties. Likewise, I was in an IRC chatroom with a load of people talking about "alt-rock"... Which made dire American soft rock spring to mind.
See, the problem with classifying what you like is that you're stereotyping yourself in a single stroke. "I like Indie" is equivalent to "I have SARS" if you're talking to a townie. So really, what difference does it make? Why box yourself
Anyway, who does the classifying? Who says what's Indie and what's Alt-Rock? Some asshole at a music mag who thinks they've heard it all I imagine. In other words, someone irrelevant.
Just chill out and take your own path. If someone asks you what you're into them tell them, by all means. But don't let journalists put words into your mouth, because people will switch off before you can say MOR.
Colin Ramsay.
Comments?
I started like everyone else, doing it socially. It was just a way to fit in. All my friends were doing it, I tried to resist but peer pressure proved too much. It didn’t seem like it was to bad a thing. So I tried it. And I was hooked
Little did I realise how much it would take a hold of my life. It started to occupy my thoughts, praying on my mind when I should have been thinking about work, family, other things. I became moody, difficult to be around. Other people had started to notice, I hadn’t. It got to a point when I realised my only friends were other addicts, my girlfriend had left me and I hardly knew my family anymore. It had to stop. I had to come out and confess. I’m an addict. I am a Championship Manager addict.
Then I found the group. It was an amazing experience to learn they were others like you, that you were not alone. Everyone had their own story to tell and their own tactics and players to watch for. I heard how one man got divorced from his wife and she sighted Championship Manager as the reason. I also heard how he had got to the top of the hall of fame and gone a whole season undefeated only conceding five goals all season.
People don’t understand how addictive the game can get, it isn’t simply enough to have a quick hour game. You want more. It starts out small time, something as simple as leading Man United to the title can be quite thrilling, but then you want more and more. Bigger and better thrills. So you move on to Tottenham, then West Ham, then Norwich, until you end up at Bath. The smaller the clubber, the harder the challenge and the bigger the thrill when you get successful. Then came my lowest point, Bath versus Arsenal, final game of the season, three points needed to secure Bath a historic first premier league title. One-nil up in three minutes, two-nil in ten, the game was in the bag. Then it started to unravel, two-one with seven minutes left, two-two with three minutes to go and then I panicked. I did something I shouldn’t have done, I took off the striker and brought on a holding midfielder. It all went wrong, I invited pressure onto myself and they scored a third. It was over, I had lost the league, I had lost everything.
I cried myself to sleep that night. It had a worse impact on me than the moment my girlfriend left me. It was then I knew I that I needed to get my life back in order. I resigned my job (at Bath), took early retirement and threw the game in the attic. I’ve been clean for three months now and at times it’s hard. They have been moments of temptation. I often think about the people I left behind, the Bath boys, and how they are doing without me. But I know things are for the better, so what if there’s a new Championship Manager coming out? So what if it’s the fourth edition of the greatest game ever. Who cares about the newly improved game engine, the new feature which allows you to watch the games being played, all the player updates and added realism. Who cares if the best just got better?
I do because my name is Richard and I am an addict.
Champ Manager 4 is released this Friday.
Richard McTiernan.
NELLY - WORK IT
Now don't get me wrong - I hate Nelly with a passion. That Nelly and Kelly thing made me want to put very sharp things up my nose and into my brain to stop the pain of its melody. But this has Justin in. And he's a different proposition altogether.
Timberlake has been acclaimed as a new Michael Jackson - as far as I can tell this is because he has a good turn in high pitched singing; nonetheless he has that same effortless star potential. AND he's damn sexy.
I should point out that I first heard this song along with it's video, which is fabulous - from Justin haranguing Nelly's past successes to the duo's expressions and actions which accompany the small "do do doo" refrain towards the end of the song - it's stylish and funny. So even if the initial prospect of this pairing leaves a black cloud in your mind, the video should start to clear it away.
And so with the video allowing "Work It" to ease its way into the back of your skull, you really do get the chance to realise that this is one of the devil's own tunes - niggling, rhythmic and catchy. Nelly's characteristic monotone is a perfec counterpoint to Timberlake's intermittent melody.
And the chorus is the worst... or best bit... so addictive, very minimalist. This is where the innovation is, and even if you don't appreciate this song you should at least appreciate that it obliterates what passes for "R&B" in our British charts.
I'm a fucking indie white boy and it makes me want to shift my sweet ass. And that's the best way I can describe this song.
Colin Ramsay.
Everyone knows that these are dark times for the UK's movie production business. Our main studio, FilmFour has recently been torn apart after a run of unsuccessful release culiminating in WW2 spy drama flop CHARLOTTE GRAY. BBC Films has the odd hit, it's true, but is basically a small time operation by a TV-centric public body. The lottery money, once pouring into the industry through every available orifice, has now all but dried up.
The twin pressures of press criticism and Lotto's dramatic wain in popularity have all but done for this onetime cultural lifeline.
It's long been apparent that few original ideas make it onto celluloid, but instead most releases are simply hackneyed rehashes of previous hits. Witness the glut of Cockney Gangster movies after the surprise success of LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS. There's also the seemingly unassailable problem of distribution in this era of Hollywood dominated multiplexes. It has become well-known that most British movies can't even find adequate distribution to have any chance of success. No wonder pessimists are sounding the death knell of our once great contribution to cinema.
In the horror genre, an area where Britain has historically excelled we are again doing rather well. From 1956 for about 20 years the Hammer style of gothic horror film was the dominant one throughout the world. Indeed, any respectable top 10 scary movie list is likely to feature at least half of its entries as products of this sceptred isle. Once upon a time greats like THE WICKER MAN, DON'T LOOK NOW and WITCHFINDER GENERAL were being released in a torrent of effortless quality. Things all went quiet for a bit, with the odd notable exception such as HELLRAISER, but now British Horror seems to have reinvented itself with gusto. In recent times DOG SOLDIERS and 28 DAYS LATER have made a big impact, and there is now a steady stream of similar movies finding audiences all over the world.
At the other end of the spectrum, the arthouse flick, you'll find that again we are riding high. Kitchen Sink directors such as Mike Leigh and Ken Loach may provoke groans on these shores, but they are regularly the toast of the European circuit. The Indy/Sundance movement in America may have been been wonderful at one point, but these days it's distinctly underwhelming. The French, too, are on a bad run. Masterworks like those of Godard and Truffaut have been replaced by feminist revenge movies and Gerard Depardieu as Obelix. Michael Winterbottom may not be anybody's idea of a new
Fellini, but he's a damn site closer than anyone Italy have produced recently.
Back in the mainstream, it's a similar story. Looking at our contemporay video charts, you will see an unprecented number of British movies of all genres riding high. Recent examples include BEND IT LIKE BECKHAM and ALI G IN DA HOUSE to name but two. However, champions of the American system would point to the Blockbuster as one particular niche in which they reign
supreme. Oh really? The days where the world was in awe of crap like TOP GUN, RAMBO and TERMINATOR 2 are now well and truly over. The global marketplace is now dominated by event movies originating from these shores like Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings and James Bond. Short of a worldwide craze for Carry On movies, how much proof do you want? If the British
film industry is in the doldrums at the moment, God knows what sort of success it would need to qualify as "in revival".
Chris Denton.
Click here to discuss this article on our forum.
Previous Say Anything Articles:
Freeview: You Get What You Pay For?
Good DVD, Bad DVD
ITV In The Doghouse
The Lack Of British Sci-fi / Fantasy Tv
Britain's Greatest Screen Actor?
Comic Movies
The Best Films of The Year...So Far
Whatever Happened To Sky One?
Timelash
