Friday 20 September 2024

TBC Bedford 2024


 Last weekend I went to the comic convention formerly known as NICE, now renamed To Be Continued, in beautiful downtown Bedford. The name had changed but the celebration of graphic storytelling remained. A small but perfectly formed con, TBC was yet again a haven for fans of comics and comic creators. Top name guests included Alan Davis, Sean Phillips, John Wagner, Adi Granov, John McCrae, Mike Collins and Paul Cornell, along with many other up-and-coming talents. There was also an emphasis on genre fiction authors this year, with the likes of MR Carey, AY Chao and Eliza Chan adding a new dimension to the expo.

I'd only been in the lovely Bedford Corn Exchange a few minutes when I made my first purchase: Ian Gibson's The Lifeboat, from the publishers of The '77 Comic. This was the final graphic novel from the sadly-departed writer and artist, and a beautiful piece of work. I'd spoken to the Man From '77 ( sorry, didn't catch his name ) last year, and he'd been enthusing then about Gibson's upcoming work, but sadly the creator passed away only a few months after that. 

Isn't it a gorgeous cover? Obviously reminiscent of the classic Halo Jones strip, but a creator-owned, passion project for Gibson and a reminder of the singular talent the comics world has lost. It was a poignant purchase, which I've only skimmed so far, and I'm looking forward to giving it some proper time and attention.

On a lighter note, I caught up with my old bloggin' buddy, Peerless Pete Doree, and bought a copy of his Essential Showcase Presents: Stan & Jack. This cavorting collection of Pete's stellar strips is fantastic fun and the ideal gift for the Armadillo in your life. 'Nuff Said! ( Apologies for lapsing into Stan-speak there... it's cataclysmically contagious. ) Pete had previously said he would personalise the book with a sketch and I asked him to draw me a Thing...

...Benjamin Grimm, that is. Pete had never drawn The Thing before and, as he's such a notoriously difficult character to draw ( Ben, not Pete! ), I felt slightly guilty about my request. But, I'm sure you'll agree Pete knocked it out of the park with his spectacular sketch of Bashful Benjy. It was great to catch up with Pete: we had a good old chinwag about comics ( of course ) and he also made time to duck out of the con and go for lunch with me and Sarah. Top bloke!

Of course, I also went longbox diving and picked up a few goodies. Fittingly, I found a couple of groovy Jack Kirby mags for decent prices:


And this all-time classic Amazing Spider-Man, which I've been after for many years. It's slightly creased and, although I was tempted to buy a slightly better condition copy for £15 more, I was happy to pick up this beauty:

Plus a few more magnificent mags:



These last two were purchased from the artist/writer himself, the always affable Mike Collins... and were signed at no extra cost. Nice.


While I was doing this, Sarah was walking the mean streets of MK40 and took some cool photos on her tour...



I also briefly bumped into my other old bloggin' pal, Mighty Joe Ackerman. Joe hadn't been very well recently and wasn't sure if he'd make it, but turned up with a mate who was looking after him. Sarah and I popped out of the building briefly, saying we'd catch up with Joe on our return, but missed him. I've been trying for literally years to get me, Pete and Joe together in one place and one time but it never seems to work... even when we're all in the same building. 

Hey ho, that was a minor disappointment in what had been a lovely day. Same time next year?


Friday 13 September 2024

Comics comics comics

Yes, comics. 

Specifically a few mags I've picked up recently, most from the aptly-named Fantastic Store on the Isle of Wight. Fantastic Four no. 56 ( Nov. 1966 ) is slightly older than me and is in slightly better condition than me. This was one of the few affordable issues of the Lee / Kirby FF that I didn't own, so £25 for a decent-looking copy seemed reasonable. "Klaw, The Murderous Master of Sound" sees the return of Ulysses Klaw, the Black Panther's nemesis who, while only being introduced a couple of issues previously as a murderous soldier of fortune, has now been upgraded to become a creature of solidified sound. Not even Charles Atlas could transform eager young incels that quickly. With an ill-defined plan to lure and capture the Panther, Klaw launches an attack on the Baxter Building, only to have his solidified-sound arse kicked by Reed, Sue and Ben ( Johnny is off on a quest to find his missing Inhuman girlfriend, Crystal, and mope about like a proper moody teenager while he's doing so ). This issue, which also features cameos from the Black Panther, The Inhumans and the Silver Surfer, is a minor segment in the sprawling super hero soap opera which was the FF of Stan & Jack's glory years, but it's still good fun. Kirby's bombastic action scenes are as explosive as ever and he finds, er, space to slot in an impressively weird denizen of Sub-Space ( aka the Negative Zone ), prompting The Thing to utter the immortal dialogue "Nuts! Ya can buy my share'a sub-space for a plugged nickel!" as seen below:

I've never really been into war comics, but this couple of anniversary issues with their cool Joe Kubert covers seemed worth a look.


The Unknown Soldier no. 250 ( April 1981 )
The Traitor Without A Face is a full-length story ( unusual in a war book of the time ) which leads us to believe the bandage-faced anti hero has swapped sides and is cozying up to Hitler and co. Just about all of DC's war heroes ( including Sgt. Rock, The Losers, Mlle Marie and even the Haunted Tank ) turn up to take the Soldier down. Of course, it's all a double-bluff, as the semi-Mummy is actually on a secret mission to shut down a nazi germ-warfare project. It's a typically outlandish, logic-defying story from "Zany" Bob Haney, with some fine layouts from old dependable Dick Ayers and lush inking from Gerry Talaoc.


Weird War Tales no. 100 ( June 1981 ) is less successful and more of a mixed bag. The main story ( Dinosaur Convoy by writer Mike W. Barr, and artists Bob Hall and Jerry Ordway ) is a crossover between The Creature Commandos and the War That Time Forgot series. Neither artist seems very comfortable with the subject matter and it all looks very bland, certainly nowhere near as dynamic as Kubert's cover illustration. More interesting is back-up strip The Scavengers by John Warner and the enigmatically-named Vacatan, which is a dark fable of feudal Japan with moody artwork and some surprising black humour.


Howard The Duck no. 2 ( Dec. 1979 ) is from the post-Gerber era, when Marvel were attempting to relaunch the temperamental fowl in a B&W magazine, without his co-creator ( let's not forget Val Mayerik! ) and without Comics Code restrictions. The magazine and strip were, of course, short-lived and suffered without Steve Gerber's idiosyncratic, acerbic stories and philosophy. The first strip in this issue is a bitter swipe at the House of the Mouse for threatening to sue Marvel over the Duck's appearance, and forcing the character to change his image, in theory to look less like D****d D**k... which he never really did. In the story, failing clothing designer Wally Sydney ( ha ha sounds a bit like W**t D****y, get it? ) whips up hysteria about the fact that animals are naked (?), causing the Cleveland branch of the Moral Majority to go around picketing pet stores and the like. "Illegalize pet porno!" they shout at one point. The upshot of this madness is Howard ends up having to wear trousers and Sydney makes money by selling more clothes. The satire is pretty clumsy and Howard acts totally out of character by giving in to the pants pressure, but at least the artwork by Gene Colan and Klaus Janson makes up for it. The second story, featuring the return of Howard's first nemesis, Pro Rata, the financial wizard, is overlong and unfunny, with Dave Simons' inks being a poor match for Colan's pencil work. In one panel, it looks like one of Colan's images of a half-dressed Beverly Switzler ( Howard's human gf ) has been redrawn, possibly by Simons. So much for the lack of editorial interference...


Crazy no. 63 ( June 1980 )
By 1980, Crazy had been daring to be dumb for quite a few years and was on its last legs. I didn't expect this mag to be particularly great, but you rarely see these in the wild so I thought I'd give it a go. As a humour mag, this issue is about as funny as Embalmers' Weekly* ( now in it's 150th year of publication! ) but it does feature another Howard the Duck appearance. Unfortunately, this Roger Stern-scripted strip is even more pointless than the Bill Mantlo stories in Howard's own mag. There's some nice artwork by Vicente Alcazar, but that's about it. The Apocalypse Now parody features some pretty decent caricatures of the movie's cast, but that's all I can really say about this issue of not-so-Crazy-actually...


The Titans no. 1 ( Week ending Oct. 25th 1975 )
This purchase was purely out of nostalgia. I was intrigued by Marvel UK's unusual, landscape format back when I was ( *checks notes... OMG! ) 8 years old and The Titans was an instant hit with me. Unfortunately, I didn't get the first issue and have never owned a copy since that dim and distant year of 1975 so, for £6.50, I finally picked up that "Fabulous First Issue". There's an overdose of Kirby's Kosmic Kreations inside: Jack Kirby's artwork takes up the first half of the comic, with classic tales of The Inhumans, Agent of SHIELD and Captain America. The King even gets a writing credit on the Inhumans strip, which was rare for his career at Marvel. There's a lovely reprint of the first solo 1960s Sub-Mariner strip, "The Start of The Quest", with some cool, aquatic artwork by Gene Colan ( he's getting a lot of love in this post ) and the much-maligned Vince Colletta. The whole issue is a great package, which introduced me to some groovy Silver Age stories back in the day, and is fun to finally read. No free full-colour poster, unfortunately, so the Quest continues...


And, to finish, here's the wonderful Fantastic Store where I picked up these cool comics. If you' ever find yourself on the exotic Isle of Wight, I'd recommend you drop in and sample its delights.

*You'll be astonished to learn that Embalmers' Weekly doesn't actually exist. But maybe it should. 

Wednesday 7 August 2024

Wychwood Festival 2024 ( Sunday )

 

Our second day at Wychwood 2024 saw us up bright and early and back at Cheltenham Racecourse for 11:00 am to see the undeniable star of the weekend, in his own words "TV celebrity... and meme", the amazing Hacker T Dog!



Our kids grew up watching Hacker's antics on CBBC, so we remember the character fondly, and now he's gained popularity through the "Normal men" video clip / meme from 2016 showing Hacker and presenter Lauren Layfield cracking up whilst attempting a continuity link. Hacker's creator / puppeteer Phil Fletcher now takes his manic mutt on tour, singing, DJ-ing and, of course, chanting out "We're just normal men" as often as humanly or canine-ly possible. Aided and abetted by actual DJ Katie Thistleton, Hacker got the early morning Wychwood crowd festival-ready by singing old kids' TV themes, telling daft jokes and generally larking about it. It was great, great fun.


And after the show Phil came down from the stage to meet the fans and take selfies. He gave everybody his time and was very gracious and friendly, and we chatted with Katie who was also lovely. Here's an overjoyed Sarah meeting Hacker and Phil. The nominal Sunday headliners were Dad-rock bores Ocean Colour Scene but, for sheer entertainment value and rock 'n' roll spirit, Hacker beat them hands ( or paws ) down.
"Y'alright cockers!"



The first music act of the day we saw was local lad Crispin ( no surname required ) who produced a family-friendly, ballad-heavy type of pop. Inoffensive and tuneful but forgettable.


We went for another wander and took in the sights of the festival. It was a much hotter day than Saturday but we found a few places we could duck inside and chill out.



In the early afternoon we watched Thrill Collins, an acoustic covers band who do revved-up, comedy takes on big pop and rock tunes. They went down a treat with the festival crowd and were obviously good at what they do... but, when they started playing Hotel bloody California we had to move on.


Next on the agenda were The Futureheads, indie rockers best known for their cover of Kate Bush's immortal Hounds Of Love. I went down the front to catch half of their set and was impressed with their propulsive guitar pop, and wished I'd seen more of them. A bloke next to me said "They're a bit bloody good, aren't they?" - and they were. They, of course, finished with Hounds and it was a delight.


Spot the festival chick!


Over on the Garden Stage I caught one of the youngest bands of the weekend and certainly the loudest:
Buzzard Buzzard Buzzard ( you'd think one bird of prey would be enough )


This Welsh alt-metal ( probably? ) four-piece were incredibly loud and heavy, throwing all kinds of bludgeoning riffs, tempos and time-changes into their pummelling set. Frontman Tom Rees is engagingly odd, like Tom Verlaine fed a diet of raw meat and cocaine, and the whole band are incredibly accomplished for such spring chickens... sorry, buzzards. Definitely a band to watch out for.


Sarah had been looking round the stalls while I was watching Buzzard x3 ( and having my ear drums destroyed ), and then we got back together to see indie pop legends The Lightning Seeds on the main stage.


Ian Broudie and co. were, to my mind anyway, far more deserving of the headliner slot than OCS. The Liverpudlians' gorgeous melodies and hooky hooks were perfect for a warm early Summer evening in a field. Pop banger after pop banger rocketed over the crowd: Change, Sugar Coated Iceberg and Sense were all kinds of jangly goodness and induced mass outbreaks of positive vibes and jollification. ( I'm not sure if that's a real word, but it's certainly a Lightning Seeds album title. ) "Oh, lucky you" indeed.


After a gorgeous Life Of Riley, the inevitable Three Lions roared into life, with Broudie asking the crowd if they thought "it" ( ie a win for England in the Euros ) was possible this year. Of course, most people seemed to think it was possible and bellowed along to the "It's coming home" chant. And, also of course, it turned out later that it didn't come home. Never mind - the Lightning Seeds' optimism, no matter how misplaced, is always a welcome thing in these troubled times.


We literally caught two of Seasick Steve's songs. Although I can appreciate his hobo blues / rock, it really isn't my cup of tea, nor Sarah's. He went down a storm with those who do like it, though. Which was nice. But, anyway, we had an appointment at the Garden Stage with some ( not so ) new soul rebels:


Apart from Hacker ( who relentlessly bigged-up the below act during his set ), my main reason for attending Wychwood on the Sunday was to see the legendary Dexy's ( without the Midnight Runners nowadays lol )


The only time I'd seen Dexy's previously was way back in 2013 at the Gloucester Guildhall. This had been my first gig back after my cancer treatment and it was a very special, emotional experience. I wasn't sure how this gig and this Dexy's lineup would compare. ( Of course, Dexy's in the 21st century basically comprises of  Kevin Rowland and any musician he hasn't fallen out with. )


We got into the Garden Stage tent fairly early and grabbed a decent spot near the front. Sarah had been surprised that a band of Dexy's status were playing on the smaller stage, but I personally couldn't imagine them on the main stage. The theatricality and uniqueness of the Dexy's performance needs to be seen up close.

The band came out onto the stage and started playing the old Bee Gees standard, To Love Somebody, and then "good old Kevin" appeared and instantly commanded the attention of the crowd. The choice of opening song may have seemed strange, considering how much of a back catalogue the band has to draw on, but they've always been astute in their choice of covers, and Kevin absolutely owned this song. Looking quite thin these days, but immaculate in his multi-coloured zoot suit, his voice was however still a thing of beauty, the deep, rich tones and soulful high notes as powerful as ever.
The band then barrelled into first album classic Tell Me When My Light Turns Green, the horn section blasting out the immaculate riff to the delight of the long-time fans. Midway through the set, Dexy's dropped a couple of "the hits" - Geno and Jackie Wilson Said - and everybody by this point was dancing and singing and strutting their funky stuff ( technical term ). The last time I saw the band, they'd played Geno in a Calypso style, which had been fun, but this was a return to the original arrangement and it had that down 'n' dirty Stax oomph to it, and was just outstanding.


Lengthy takes on Until I Believe In My Soul ( yay! ) and the more recent Free saw Kevin indulging his more soul-searching, theatrical side as he recalled the bad old '80s days of punishing his body to believe in his soul, and his yearning to be free of relationships, of band members, of whatever else had plagued him. The set sometimes felt like a confessional or a therapy session for a ( formerly? ) troubled artist, and often these longeurs stretched on almost to the point where they became tiresome. Almost, but not quite, as Kevin injected self-deprecating humour and the band injected raw soul power into these songs just when needed. And then the fiddle-player limbered up and it was time for Eileen to come out to play. Come On Eileen had been noticeable by its absence last time but, in 2024, it seems that Kevin has come to terms with the monster hit single that defined the band for so many casual observers, and has brought it back in all its foot-stomping glory. He also seems to have come to terms with past mistakes and spoke briefly, but movingly, about Al Archer, the former bandmate who had done so much to build the Dexy's sound but had fallen foul of Rowland's "new soul vision" in one of the turbulent lineup changes.


They finished with a stunning version of This Is What She's Like, the epic attempt to define feelings for that special someone, an attempt that will always fail because love is too huge a thing for a mere song to quantify. But Kevin always tries. He believes the Italian's have a word for it. Like a thunderbolt or something...
As you can guess, I was absolutely knocked out by this performance. Dexy's have meant so much to me over the years and I was so happy that they still had that Celtic Soul magic, and their singer was still the unique, passionate, occasionally frustrating, always stylish, frontman who has been pouring his soul out for so many years for our entertainment. Cheers, Kev!


After this, we went for yet another mooch around the arena and caught the tail end of an uninspiring set by headliners Ocean Colour Scene. We could hear them, being all bombastic and obvious, and decided we weren't going to investigate too closely. They finished with The Day We Caught The Train, but we weren't going to take a train ( or a car ) out of Wychwood that quickly, because we were heading for the late night Silent Disco..
I'd never really understood the concept or appeal of silent discos previously, but we'd seen this after-hours ritual taking place last year and thought it looked like fun. The set up is this: two DJs play two completely different sets and the punters are given noise-cancelling headphones, which can be tuned into Red or Blue channels for either DJ. You can flip from one to the other at will, so if you're thinking the dancers freaking out to the Blue channel are having more fun than your Red cohorts, you can join in with them. Of course, you can also take the headphones off and watch people seemingly dancing and singing tunelessly to no music, which is worth a chuckle. 
As it was, the Blue DJ was playing a lot of house, jungle and trance ( which I mostly went for ) and Red was laying down a lot more pop-orientated stuff ( which Sarah mostly went for ), but we mixed and matched as we went along. After two days on our feet, watching bands, you'd think we'd be too knackered for all this, but we found extra strength ( somehow! ) and danced our feet off until 01:00 am - party animals! It was a great laugh and we'll definitely have to do it again.
After a walk through an eerily deserted festival site to find a hideous chemical toilet ( ugh! ), we headed for home, worn out but happy. Same time again next year, Wychwood? ( I think so. )

Thursday 25 July 2024

Wychwood Festival 2024 ( Saturday )

 


Back in June ( what do you mean, it's 2/3 of the way through July already? ), Sarah and I spent two days on a racecourse. And we didn't put any bets on. Yep, following last year's fantastic weekend at the Wychwood Festival in Cheltenham, we were back for more. To be honest, much of the lineup this year didn't really grab me, but we'd had such a good time in 2023 that we knew it would be worth going again. We had the added incentive that our good friend Caz was playing on the Saturday with her band, Dub Catalyst, and had managed to get us one free ticket. So, we rocked up to the "production" tent at the racecourse and Sarah was given the keys to the kingdom... or at least a wristband that admitted her into the arena.


The first band we caught was The Zangwills, who'd progressed from the Garden Stage last year to the main stage this year. We only watched two or three of their songs before heading off to see Dub Catalyst, but their muscular indie-pop was a fine start to the weekend.



We got down the front in the Garden Stage tent and plonked ourselves in front of Dub Catalyst's amazing horn section, featuring ( of course! ) Cazbo on trombone. DC's summery, positive-vibe-imbued reggae / hip hop perfectly suited the gorgeous June weather, and they soon filled the tent out with happy, dancing punters. As always, they were incredibly tight and professional, with every member of the 11-piece band giving their all (even the tambourine player who was living his best life), and the crowd absolutely loved them. Surely the main stage beckons next year?



I caught half of a set from Amy Moore, a Country singer who had a very strong, soulful voice and some equally strong tunes ( and a kick ass band, it has to be said ), and then we went for a wander around the site. ( I mentioned "gorgeous weather" earlier and it was really good, but the photo below looks deceptively grey. )


+

One of the great things about festivals is that everyone feels they're all in it together, all having a good time, all ( you could say ) connected...


And that clumsy segue leads me on to the next band on the main stage, the dancetastic Stereo MCs.


Leaning heavily on the material from their Connected album, the band brought us the rave like it was 1989 all over again. In a similar vein to last year's headliners, Happy Mondays, the MCs' blend of indie, hip hop and acid house was a perfect way to re-energise a festival crowd on a Saturday afternoon. Although lacking in the banter of a certain Mr. Ryder, the band's frontman Rob Birch had an energetic stage presence, coming across as a boiler-suited Albert Steptoe enjoying his first trip in the Hacienda. They played both of "the hits" - Connected and Step It Up - which naturally got the best reaction from the crowd, but it was all 'shroom-flavoured fun.



After this, we caught up with Caz to have hot dogs and chips on the top deck of a bus ( as you do ), while listening to some familiar tunes drifting across the field. Jangly, early-sixties Merseybeat pricked my ears up and dragged me out of the bus and I found myself breaking my "no tribute bands" rule...


Well, it's more of a guideline than a rule. The purveyors of this aural time warp were, of course, The Bootleg Beatles, the premier Fab Four tribute band. Looking spookily like the Liverpudlian icons ( I think some prosthetics may be involved ), the band were also note-perfect in recreating their sound and onstage banter. I mean, this is the closest you're going to get to a Beatles gig, so why not wallow in the nostalgia. They progressed from the raw, early songs like She Loves You and Can't Buy Me Love, via a solo "Macca" version of Yesterday, and on to the post-psychedelic era with the likes of Get Back and Revolution. It was a fun singalong and actually quite moving to hear those songs being played with such authenticity. One crowd member near me, on hearing Hey Jude ( my all-time fave Fabs song ), said "Nobody's written a song this good since the '60s", which may be an overstatement... but I can see where they're coming from.


Next up were some genuine Liverpudlians, early 2000s eclecticists The Coral.


These Scouse folk/indie types wore their Fabs influence on their sleeves, with plenty of jangly melodies to chill us all out. In theory. To be honest, I found their stuff pleasant but dull and the band had zero charisma, looking like they were going through the motions and thinking about the paycheque. Of course, the good thing about festivals is that you can always go for a wander ( again ) and Wychwood is perfect for this, with something else happening around every corner: craft-making tents, dance classes, story-telling for kiddies, even over-priced massage therapy sessions. By the time we'd taken all this in ( and probably queued for the toilets, another festival joy ), the sun was slowly sinking over the Shire and we headed back to the main stage for the headliners.


When the headliners for this year's Wychwood were announced, I was fairly unimpressed ( Ocean Colour Scene? Really? ) but there were enough acts on the bill that looked interesting, so we thought it was still worth going.
Texas are a band that I was never too bothered about back in the day, but I thought they were sure to put on a decent show. ( Can't you tell that this is yet another example of me totally underestimating a band? ) And, yeah, they really did. Straight out of the blocks with their debut single I Don't Want A Lover, Texas hit the ground running, with frontwoman Sharleen Spiteri bouncing around the stage, fizzing with energy. After a brief pause to say how amazed they were at still being in the business 35 (!) years after this song had kickstarted their career, the band launched into the anthemic, pulsing Halo, the line about "bright light city" absolutely bang on as the crowd was illuminated by the main stage lights.


Texas are one of those groups who you listen to and think "That's actually a bloody great song. Yeah, and that one. And that one." Bangers like Summer Son and In Demand give us tune after tune, and hook after hook. I probably looked on them as being a bit middle of the road previously, but as a live act, they were totally convincing, and far "rockier" than on record.
Sharleen still has an amazingly soulful and powerful voice and an absolutely magnetic stage presence.
She told us a few spicey stories, one in particular about a radio interview she'd given recently where she'd dropped a couple of F-bombs. The next day, her sister called her up to say there was some fuss online because somebody had taken offence at her "potty mouth" - Sharleen's response was "Have they ever fuckin' been to Glasgow? That's basically how we communicate."


Texas finished the set with Black Eyed Boy and Say What You Want, both total pop classics with a Country Soul twist - and the way Sharleen sang "tiiime" on the former sent shivers down my spine. They encored with the dancey Inner Smile, a song I'd completely forgotten about, but which was a euphoric, uplifting way to end the night. We headed for home, tired but happy, planning to get back there early the next morning for a meeting with a certain canine...

To be continued, cockers...

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