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A short video I made for my two friends Andrew (known to all except his Mam as 'Miller') and Helen. We all had a magical day full of joy and laughter; I hope this film reflects that! Any wedding with fish, chips and ice cream in a community centre is top notch in my book. The song used is 'The Pact' by Villagers.

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My favourite shot from Sunderland Soundscape

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The Lake Poets, Ajimal, Agerskow. Newcastle Mining Institute, 6/4/13

I’ve had the pleasure of seeing The Lake Poets play in some of the North-East’s most beautiful buildings: The Sage at Gateshead; Sunderland Minster; Durham Cathedral and now Neville Hall, home of Newcastle’s Institute of Mining and Mechanical Engineers. Its Library, replete with both history and atmosphere, was the incredible setting for a night of thoughtful and affecting performance from three wonderful acts.

Agerskow took the stage and I was soon enrapt with the persona of Kate Edwards. Something about this grandiose room seemed to compel an almost peculiar reverence among the audience; in pin-drop silence and against an immense backdrop of stained glass, the tiny, blanched figure of Edwards was vulnerable and beautiful as she made nervous small talk with us. The heavenly and ambitious voice (part Vashti Bunyan, part Kate Bush) which came from this seemingly retiring figure was quite astounding, though. Ably backed by a duo on bass and drums, she grew in stature, I thought. Double A-side ‘This Train Terminates/Fast Hands’ was the final treat of this lovely set, a performance which left me in no doubt: she is a great talent.

Ajimal’s set is hard to pin down, but it quickly assumed the gorgeous and transcendental quality which made it unlike anything I’d heard in a long while. My vantage point was not the best so I decided to close my eyes and just listen; a good move I think because this was an aurally stunning thirty minutes. Although a gifted multi-instrumentalist, the most remarkable thing here was the incredible control Fran O’Hanlon exercised over the dynamics of his voice; every rise and fall in volume were by turns moments of sheer drama and emotion. The high ceilings of this library were made for someone like Ajimal; by the finish, I felt weak. Maybe this is testament to the arresting power of his craft.

I’ve written variously about The Lake Poets on this blog (here and here). I suppose it does not need to be said ad infinitum how good Martin and his friends are but the really pleasing thing on this night was that they improved on anything I’d seen before. As Longstaff’s arrangements become ever more layered, he needs more instruments on stage to recreate them and the collective assembled here was fantastic (perhaps The Union Choir should be worried, if not Arcade Fire). New single ‘April’ was unsurprisingly the stand-out moment, a sad song so epically instrumented that it seems to exorcise itself. Martin has carved a clever niche that finds us happier for having heard his personal tragedies and I believe he can take his musical ambitions as far as he chooses.

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The Nutcracker, Scottish Ballet, Theatre Royal, Newcastle, 09/02/2013

Having very much enjoyed Birmingham Royal Ballet's Swan Lake at Sunderland in October, I was filled with much excitement at the thought of another such cultural evening. We were a party of four; in addition to their own swanky Grand Circle seats, my parents had gifted my girlfriend Hannah and I another couple of tickets for Christmas, ours down in the stalls. Before we entered the auditorium, however, we settled down to a slap-up tea at 'Pasqualino's', the theatre's sister restaurant. The set menu on this evening was fairly small but every one us remarked how pleasant the food on offer was; I was particularly enamoured with the goose fat chips accompanying my pork loin, a festive taste before a very festive ballet! This was my first visit to Newcastle's Theatre Royal since its refurbishment in 2011 and they have done a terrific job; the dowdy green interior that I last saw at a production of 'Dad's Army' in 2010 is now replaced by resplendent fittings in red, cream and gold. I recognised the safety curtain but in most other aspects this seemed like a totally rejuvenated space. Our seats at the front of the stalls offered a very good view of not only the stage but also the orchestra pit below. The music from The Nutcracker is so enchanting that I could have enjoyed an evening watching the Scottish Ballet Orchestra (ably conducted by Richard Honner) alone; as it was, the performance onstage was so convincing that I found myself otherwise engrossed. I have seen a version of Matthew Bourne's quite radical Nutcracker on the TV and whilst this production, conceived by Ashley Page and Antony McDonald, was nowhere near as flamboyant, it felt in no way staid or stuffy. The setting of 1920s Germany was Modern in period and almost jazzy in ambience whilst Page's choreography struck a happy balance between classical and contemporary. An audacious bum-smack in the opening minutes and the drunken slapstick of Jamiel Laurence's Grandfather Stahlbaum did not sit uneasily alongside the effortless romance of Erik Cavallari and Bethany Kingsley-Garner's climactic Grand Pas de Deux; her performance throughout deserves special praise and as an Artist of the company she is surely destined for higher things. The second act of The Nutcracker (more specifically its world-flavoured Divertissement) is like a hit-parade of Tchaikovsky; it seems sometimes as though these tunes have slipped into the consciousness via osmosis and I was filled with joy and astonishment on hearing them here. Realising the 'Nutcracker connection' is a moment of awakening and I would defy anyone, anywhere not to enjoy Act II of this ballet; you already love the music and the dancing you see will allow you to interpret it in new ways! My highlight of the evening came as such, in the superbly choreographed Arabian dance, performed by Luciana Ravizzi, Christopher Harrison, Daniel Davidson and Nicholas Shoesmith. Sultry and searingly hot, the dance was seduction at its most base. The three males carefully lifted Ravizzi throughout and she appeared to float for a good 4 minutes; it made my heart pound. They were in control of her body but the effect was entirely the opposite as she seemed to enrapture and consume them. I don't think my words can do it any sort of justice but suffice to say, it was an utterly affecting and essential experience. In all, this Nutcracker was fantastical, lighthearted, burlesque and even grotesque but all the while suggestive of a deeper power held within the repertoire. Congratulations to the Scottish Ballet on a resounding triumph.

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St. Os. Fest, 11/01/2013.

We decided to attend 'St. Os. Fest' very much at the last minute. I'm glad that we did, though, because this was some night! The premise was unlikely but unmissable; five of the North East's foremost bands transformed, playing 'Stars in Their Eyes' style tribute sets in order to raise as much money as they could for St. Oswald's Hospice. I don't suppose we'll see a bill like this again any time soon: The Chapman Family as KISS Little Comets as Bon Jovi Field Music and The Cornshed Sisters as Fleetwood Mac Frankie & The Heartstrings as David Bowie ...and The Futureheads as Queen. Quite rightly, this line-up proved to be a huge draw; Newcastle University's Student Union was packed out and over £10,000 was made on the door alone, fantastic news for the hospice and its team of fundraisers! A show like this was always going to be outrageously camp and the bands delivered with aplomb. The comical meta-element of the night's tribute format was not lost on me but it's indicative of a refreshing ethic that acts of this calibre were so willing to parody themselves and their comparatively more modest successes (whatever musical success is!). I expected tongue-in-cheek and found it in droves but I really wasn't expecting the standard of musicianship and overall fidelity that was on display. This is not to say that I thought anyone incapable but rather that I didn't think they'd all take it so seriously! Stockton's Chapman Family nailed the look of KISS and a pre-show tip-off from David Brewis revealed the lengths of brother Peter's efforts in replicating Lindsey Buckingham's beard (some sort of latex prosthetic, apparently). Clearly, hours of costume prep. went in across the board; this was certainly the case for Frankie who disclosed the grave problems he'd had fitting his gonads into Bowie's spandex. Joking aside, it was the attention to performance details that made the biggest impression on me. Little Comets were incredible as Bon Jovi and their Richie Sambora even recreated the classic 'talk box' guitar sound of 'Livin' On A Prayer'. David Bowie was just the enigmatic stage persona you would expect whilst The Futureheads' Jaff revelled in playing Freddie Mercury's signature vocal games with his audience. My highlight of the night came from Fleetwood Mac who transcended a few feedback problems to deliver a highly authentic portrayal; when John McVie's ubiquitous bass line rang out to signal the impending huge climax of 'The Chain', the room seemed to erupt with a collective roar. That was a great moment. Following the brilliant Queen/Bowie duet 'Under Pressure', a mass sing-along of 'Somebody To Love' ended the night in the best possible way and I left (before Paul Smith's DJ set, sadly) feeling as though I'd seen a real 'one-off'. Congratulations to all involved for putting on an excellent night and more importantly raising that huge sum for St. Oswald's!

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Away Day: Bolton Wanderers 2-2 Sunderland, FA Cup 3rd Round, Sat. 5th Jan. 2013

My peculiar unbeaten record at Sunderland away games continued on Saturday. Admittedly, I'm not one of the hardy breed that travels the country 'week in week out' but my seven career away trips have not yielded a single defeat. They would no doubt roll their eyes and scoff but I reckon that's a hell of a return. Maybe I'm charmed?! Away games always feel like a bit of a holiday and I suppose that's why they're so enjoyable. Even the usually mundane act of travelling forms an integral part of the experience; the anticipation builds over a freshly cracked beer and then the laughter breaks as you see, inevitably, a coach-load of lads lined up on the hard shoulder answering nature's call. Approximately 5000 fans made the trip to Bolton and I think nearly every one of them must have been queuing at The Beehive when we arrived at 1.00pm; it was nigh on impossible to get a drink but the noise of a packed pub celebrating Newcastle's defeat at Brighton cranked the feel-good atmosphere up to eleven. The eight of us reached the nifty Reebok Stadium at half-two and I went straight for a pie. An odd episode unfurled: the bloke in front neglected to pay for his scran then managed only a few paces in getaway before stopping, doubling over and spewing all over the concourse. Twice, about 30 seconds apart. Some will always peak too soon on an away day. The match kicked off to cacophonous chanting in the Sunderland end but over-zealous stewards wasted no time in trying to alter the dynamic; a number of fans had travelled to Bolton only to be ejected as scapegoats for persistent standing. The standing issue is topical; SAFC has divided opinion recently by banning some fans from home games and presumably staff here were instructed by our club. People have always stood at away matches but perhaps they won't for much longer, something which would be a shame in my view, were it to happen. 5000 fans all standing feels like a strong unit, a pack almost. The experience of sitting at football is something sedate, solitary and sterile in comparison. Sterile but safe. Sunderland's performance ranged from the ridiculous in Cuellar's suicide pass to the ineffably sublime in Gardner's thunderbolt equaliser (enough cliches in there?!). The draw was probably a fair result in spite of our late assault on the Bolton goal; I say that because the wild ecstasy of celebrating Gardner's strike ameliorated a shocking first half display. What a moment it was, though; when my streak of away day good luck ends, and it surely will, I will think back to 75 minutes at the Reebok.

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2012: The List!

Alan Partridge: Right, OK. Shoestring, Taggart, Spender, Bergerac, Morse. What does that say to you about regional detective series? Tony Hayers: There's too many of them? Alan:....people like them, let's make some more... I'm Alan Partridge, #101, 'A Room With An Alan' Over the last few days my Twitter feed has been teeming with various different end-of-year lists; in the true spirit of Partridge, I'm adding to the chaos with a list (of sorts) of my own. Here, I reveal my flavours of 2012. Best Song: 'Don't Stare At The Sun' - Richard Hawley. Sheffield's finest warns of the perils of hard drugs and also delivers his most astounding, emotive guitar solo to date. An epic, like 'The Ocean' but much darker. New Album: 'Plumb' - Field Music. Unsurprising choice. Singular Prog-pop from the Brewis brothers. A vital and fecund piece of work very much in spite of its brevity; how did they fit all those ideas into 35 minutes and have them cohere so well? Honourable mention: 'Words and Music' - Saint Etienne. Old Album: 'Bad Penny' - Spectrals. 2011 debut from Louis Jones still in heavy rotation! Simply, an exquisite sounding album. Buddy Holly for the Facebook generation. Honourable mention: 'The Man Who Said This Died Of Alchemy' - Matt Stalker & Fables. Gig: Duane Eddy - Sage Gateshead. Enthralling instrumental display from the Rock God Eddy and his band. The unmistakeable Gretsch twang and wail of Sax still resounding months later. A gem of a support act in Nell Bryden, an affable New Yorker with one incredible vocal talent. Honourable mention: The Futureheads, The Lake Poets, Natasha Haws - Durham Cathedral. Cultural Event: Urban Night Feast. Newcastle's Boiler Shop plays host to 3 evenings of hustle, bustle and stunning world cuisine. Sometimes the best treats are to be found close to home, as with The Broad Chare's Scotch eggs. Exhibition: Quentin Blake: 'As Large As Life' - Laing Art Gallery. Inspiring collection of therapeutic illustrations by a national treasure; pieces originally commissioned for display in hospitals. Film: Untouchable. Painfully funny French dramedy shown at the Tyneside Cinema, subtitled, following its native release the year previous. Omar Sy is superb as the fractious Driss in this story of unlikely friendship across the social divide. Worth seeing for the hang gliding scene alone! Sportsperson: Andy Murray. A maiden Grand Slam, Olympic honours and a first Wimbledon final for the Scot in his breakthrough year. Incredible success for a Brit in a sport that we are rubbish at, notoriously. Brownie points for remaining a surly, PR headache throughout. Olympic moment: Mo Farah claims 10,000m Gold. Unforgettable scenes at the finish line as Farah cannot quite comprehend his achievement and slaps head in primal delirium; back in the studio, journalistic impartiality goes out the window. Honourable mention: Epke Zonderland's Gold medal winning gymnastic high bar routine. SAFC moment: Ji Dong-Won sinks City. South Korean bit-part player enters Sunderland folk history when he rounds Man City keeper Joe Hart in stoppage time to claim a famous victory for The Lads; receives French kiss from excitable crowd member as reward. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- As regards public life, 2012 will go down as an especially sleazy one; whether it be the coalition Government or the BBC, vast and influential institutions lurched from one crisis to the next. The hugely successful Olympic Games was a much needed beacon of positivity amidst the scandal. I'll end this post with something else positive, an instance where collectively, we got it right. Story of 2012: Claire Squires. Claire died suddenly running the London marathon for her chosen charity Samaritans. I support this organisation as a volunteer and fundraiser so this story was particularly affecting. Some might not be aware, but Claire's death bereaved her Samaritan mother Cilla of a child for the second time; what a burden to bear and how incredibly sad. However, the public reaction to the story was amazing and donations in memory of Claire snowballed to well over £1million. Something good came out of a terrible human tragedy because of our generosity of spirit. Don't be fooled by the avaricious elite that rule; we are a great and charitable people. Merry Christmas and a Happy 2013!

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Learning to Cook

Hannah and I were invited recently to a get-together with some of my old friends and their better halves. We all thought that it would be nice to repay our hosts Andrew and Helen for their hospitality by bringing food; they'd opened their house, so we would bring the grub! A lovely thought but nonetheless one which filled me ever so slightly with a sense of dread. I'm certain that the abundance of 'celebrity' male chefs we see on TV screens and magazine pages vastly over-represents our skill as a sex; men of a culinary bent are hard to find and I remain, at 25, almost entirely useless in the kitchen despite having lived away from home. So, on the cusp of a new year, I think now is the time to address this issue: I will resolve to learn how to cook once and for all. I normally eat a meal in a couple of minutes or thereabouts. To suffer 30 minutes or more of stress (and in my case a good chance of physical injury) for two minutes' shovelling always seemed like a bad deal but cooking for the party with Hannah made me realise a couple of things: 1) Cooking is fun to do 2) Time flies when you're having fun Of course, she did most of the work as we prepared a starter and dessert; I chopped things, greased tins and did the washing up when I wasn't taking photos. That said, it felt nice to have contributed to our achievement in making two tasty dishes that everyone enjoyed later on. Hopefully, the promise of this feeling of accomplishment will spur me on next year. I need all the help I can get! What we made: Peppers stuffed with cous-cous, goat's cheese and lardons Victoria sponge with butter icing and strawberries

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'LightWeight' at Mowbray Park, Sunderland

In my opinion, Mowbray Park is the nicest thing in the centre of Sunderland. How lucky we are to have in our city this immaculate Victorian garden, restored proudly to its former splendour. At this time of year Mowbray sees itself transformed; the trees are swaddled in thousands of lights and this magical spectacle is a major attraction in the park as it forms the hub of the city's festive celebrations. I wouldn't normally visit until a little nearer Christmas but Hannah and I found ourselves lured this past weekend by 'LightWeight', a travelling art installation curated by Impossible. I'm a great fan of public art and it was heartening to see that lots of people had come out on a weekend evening to see the piece. With the Christmas village not quite in full swing yet, I assume that like us, they were drawn in some way by the promise of art. Surely it's a notion worth entertaining given the countless other things that vie for our attention on a Saturday night: that art might still be important. A 4-metre high orb, 'LightWeight' seems a peculiar prospect but in actuality, it complements the illuminations and adds to the wondrous landscape nicely. It conjured something cosmic, I thought, at once a spacecraft and the moon. Whatever your response, many would agree that it is an artwork which captures the imagination and doesn't easily let it go. I almost forgot that I was in the heart of the city as the vast sphere glowed and pulsated with light and sound. 'LightWeight' amongst the festive lights at Mowbray Park 'LightWeight' returns to the park on the 1st, 15th and 22nd of December, all of which are Saturdays. Why not see what you think? Details of the City Council's full Christmas events programme can be found here.

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Guy Forks

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Swan Lake, Birmingham Royal Ballet, Sunderland Empire, 18/10/2012

I'm always reminded of a particular episode of The Simpsons when I think about ballet. Anyone who's seen it will remember this exchange between a reluctant Bart and his new teacher: Teacher: Ah! And what have we here? A young man maybe who thinks he can be the next Baryshnikov? Bart: I don't want to be the next *anything*. I'm only taking this stupid class because they made me. Teacher: So, he has fire in the belly! But it will take more than bellyfire to be the next Baryshnikov. Bart: Look, Boris, I think ballet's for sissies. Teacher: Ha ha ha! Ballet is for the strong, the fierce, the determined, but for the sissies? Never! (The Simpsons ep. #617 'Homer vs Patty & Selma') This production of Swan Lake by Birmingham's esteemed company was my first time at 'The Ballet' and the emboldened assertion above seems especially resonant now. What an inspiring evening I had. Among these dancers there is more strength (and grace, I should add) in a single toe than many can muster in their entire body. I left with an impression of the ballet dancer as a sort of 'superhuman' and maybe that's why this seemed like good art: it made me feel closer to something eternal. It's nice sometimes to forget my own mundane travails and focus instead on how sublime humans can be. The curtain rose on an opulent court scene as Act I commenced with the majestic theme allegro giusto. The brilliant Tzu-Chao Chou in the role of Benno made his first leaps as this unforgettable, cymbal-driven orchestral hit resounded throughout the theatre and the first of many 'goosebumps' moments occurred. How trite that sounds but it is true; perhaps the body is reminding the brain: 'This is essential. You like this!' I read that early audiences found Tchaikovsky's music too involved for a ballet but I thought it complemented the fluctuating moods of the story. Imagine the pomp of this opening contrasted only moments later by the dreamy beauty of the pas de trois introduction. Extended to the overarching structure of the ballet, the public grandeur of Acts I and III are tempered by the personal romance of II and IV. It's impossible to comment on technique being very much a layman but I was wholly convinced by the lead performances of Joseph Caley and Elisha Willis. I suppose I was sceptical about how effectively a conventional sense of narrative could be conveyed in a ballet but these portrayals reminded me that the skills of acting and storytelling comprise more than words alone. The manipulative vamp of Willis's Odile was so utterly polarised by her fragile, anguished Odette that it was easy to forget that behind these two masks lay the same person. The success of an Odette/Odile surely lies in the dancer's ability to exploit convincingly this dichotomy of white and black and it must be said that Willis did so with aplomb. I empathised with Caley's torrid Prince Siegfried and while Swan Lake is surely Odette's ballet, he must not be overlooked. I ought to say that in terms of chemistry, I believed in this love-match and for that both deserve praise. As many will know, there are parts of this ballet that have 'crossed over'. They have attained mainstream cultural significance and become so ubiquitous that they are worth the admission fee alone. The Black Swan pas de deux with its multiple fouettés en tournant and the 'Dance of the Little Swans' scene are notable examples which brought smiles to the faces; we revelled in a feeling of common understanding. One other moment was so astounding, however, that it literally elicited gasps from the packed house. The opening of Act IV saw the lake suggested by vast plumes of dry ice which filled the stage; this was beautiful enough in itself but when the corps de ballet suddenly rose from this enchanting sea of mist I'd found my highlight of the night. I won't forget that. The ballet ended and when Baron von Rothbart took his curtain call to pantomime style boos I remembered again that I was in Sunderland, but what a night: one that transported me somewhere else.

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Sarah Beth Briggs, Sunderland Pianoforte Society, Sunderland Museum, 16/10/2012

I often feel unqualified to write posts about rock music but do anyway. As someone with no formal understanding of classical music, I probably can't do this recital much justice but plough on in the same spirit. I've been to a couple of classical concerts at Durham Cathedral in the past but never, until now, a solo piano recital. I find myself drawn to solo piano music much more than orchestral works; it's hard to know why, but if I had three wishes I would not hesitate in using one to endow myself with the skill of the virtuoso pianist. These people really are awe-inspiring and so this recital was an opportunity I couldn't pass up. When I entered the room, the sheer presence of the society's £110,000 antique Steinway piano in all its splendour made me feel just a little out of place. In actuality, the atmosphere was nothing other than welcoming and the three elderly ladies sat in front of me assuaged my fears completely when I caught them nattering about value knitwear from Jacky White's Market. I'm learning that people of all backgrounds and ages can enjoy this type of music: the sight of a young boy, surely no older than 6 or 7, playing along to a particularly brisk passage on 'air piano' was heartwarming. When I glanced back over half an hour later, he was fast asleep in his mother's arms. This was an intimate recital and my unusually close vantage point was enlightening. Sarah Beth Briggs's performance was, of course, highly accomplished and full of emotional nuance but what really struck me was its physicality. You don't appreciate fully the rigour of performance when watching videos on YouTube but here, every sharp intake of breath attested the awesome demands of pianism at this standard. It was exhilarating but surely for Briggs, exhausting! The artist is a lecturer in this field at the University of York and her introductions to each piece were especially helpful to me. They even forayed into comedy when Briggs demonstrated on the keyboard the uncanny similarities between melodies in Mozart's Sonata in C minor (played on this occasion) and Beethoven's famous 'Pathetique' Sonata. Not quite a Morecambe and Wise sketch but still amusing! All things told, this was a great evening and my favourite pieces included those by Chopin and Debussy (I had really hoped for the latter's Arabesques but you can't have it all). I'm sure that I will return for another recital at this lesser known but culturally significant society in Sunderland. I didn't have enough change for a programme but Sarah Beth Briggs played: Sonatas by Scarlatti, Haydn and Mozart; a Ballade by Chopin; finally, a suite (Pour Le Piano) and 4 Préludes by Debussy.

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'Sky At Night'

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Matt Stalker & Fables, The Polite Room, Durham, 04/10/2012

Last week at the Academy I saw Lisa Hannigan and Richard Hawley play to one of the most ignorant and noisy crowds in living memory. Hawley even went as far as to intimate afterwards that it was his least favourite gig for years. The Polite Room is an event which does not suffer from this problem in any way, shape or form; rather, it actively promotes a respectful culture. Three excellent acts played to hushed and truly appreciative listeners. That's the thing about music isn't it? It ought to be self-evident. You enjoy it much more if you listen. Ditte Elly opened the evening, battling illness and a dodgy microphone stand, but I, for one, think she emerged victorious. She was an unassuming figure but what an affecting sound she makes with just a classical guitar and voice. This was mellow, even wistful stuff at times, but exuding an undeniably arresting power. Playing a song written only the day before was a courageous and refreshing move; she appeared to chide herself afterwards, but whatever it was that went wrong escaped my notice as I marvelled instead at the impossible-looking shapes her left hand made around the fret-board. Warbly, acrobatic vocal delivery is almost de rigueur in mainstream contemporary music but with Ditte Elly less is very much more. Her wonderfully resonant tone puts that sort of contrivance in the shade and I hope to see her sing live again in the future. Skylark Song, the boy/girl duo of Alex McRae and Emma Davis, followed and were similarly great. It's nice that there are still young musicians who write and perform songs in genres that are a little less visible than perhaps they ought to be. 'Underneath the Roots' and 'Deep River Blues' showcased a distinctly American sound, very much enacting their respective titles. McRae is a fine guitarist whose Bluegrass chops really impressed me and the vocals of Davis were full of gusto throughout despite being a tad 'breathy' (owing, like Ditte Elly, to the lurgy). Nonetheless, Skylark Song were very well received and had me laughing when they plugged some CDs only to realise they'd brought just two copies. I trust that they managed to shift them. I first discovered Matt Stalker & Fables at last year's Split Festival but annoyingly hadn't managed to catch them live since; having played their album The Man Who Said This... half to death in the interim, it's fair to say that I was excited for their performance at The Polite Room and they didn't disappoint me. The ensemble has expanded with the addition of viola and vibraphone but Stalker himself remains the driving force with his impeccable finger-style guitar playing (in an abundance of unusual tunings) and far-ranging voice. We were treated to a number of new songs from forthcoming album Knots as well as a smattering of old album tracks and covers. As band leader he wears his influences on his sleeve; Bon Iver's 'Re: stacks' and Radiohead's 'Let Down (Gently)' were unashamed affirmations of both bands. Similarly in his own songwriting, 'Pulling Threads' is a fitting nod to Jeff Buckley. The song 'Knots' was a little gem, a poem of sorts. The gig took place on 'National Poetry Day' and another poem was at the heart of my personal highlight of the evening, that being a musical reworking of Sophie Hannah's 'The Onus'. I'd always loved this song but hadn't been aware of its origin until now. Stalker spoke so much emotion into the words 'I will not let you push me and pretend I fell'; it really was special. The bouzouki of the instrumental middle section was a joy and that song is now well and truly under my skin. There was a wonderful atmosphere at The Polite Room and a great rapport between artists and audience. We laughed as Stalker commended his band for managing to transpose an entire song in real time (he'd capoed the wrong fret) and then stomped happily along to the Hoedown of closing song 'Welded To Me...' I had a lovely night and look forward to the release of Knots in the new year. On this showing, it will be a great addition to an already burgeoning North East musical oeuvre.

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'A Copella'

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Sarah Cracknell: swoon (Split Festival) @bobpetesarah (Taken with Instagram)

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Split Festival 2012

'Sunderland has a festival, people', said Ross Millard to a packed tent as The Futureheads closed Split on Sunday night and he is right. I am by no means a festival veteran, but this felt like an event worthy of its place in an already very full Summer calendar. Potential that I saw last year was realised more fully on nearly every front. I hope sincerely its reputation continues to grow over many years to come, for what can be better than this: standing, Double Maxim in hand, enjoying professionally produced shows by acclaimed musicians...in SUNDERLAND! I started Saturday with a visit to the Arts Yurt where I saw some great work by local creative folk and had a lovely chat with the 'Space for Peace' crew. The Real Davina opened proceedings in the Tunstall Hill tent with their last ever show. A bit of a shame this, I thought, as they were accomplished musicians who took their craft seriously, even playing to a click track. Lilliput have filled out their sound nicely and those vocal harmonies are a treat. 'Little Wanderer', which has a new live video, was a great closer. Athletes in Paris ramped things up with an infectious set in the Main Tent; the 'world beats' of their two percussionists were complemented in a more provincial way by the heavy Geordie patois of singer and all-round bundle of energy Matt Robson. Natasha Haws is fast becoming a local stalwart which is not bad at 18. She was superb at Durham Cathedral recently but these surroundings provided a different challenge. She shone for me this time round in the way she handled some nasty feedback and a memory blank with humour and maturity. A haunting and emotional performance of forthcoming single 'Stranger' stood out most of all. The Cornshed Sisters won me over at No Direction Home Fest. and were again assured. The grand piano sounded great and the deliberate, sudden ending of closer 'If You Were Mine' was met instantly with rapturous cheers. Lulu James, meanwhile, was a contrast back in the Main Tent. This was urban and sexually charged, something I'm sure the Cornsheds will readily admit they aren't. James's soulful voice soared alluringly over heavy rhythms; yet, her corset was accessorised with a chastity belt of sorts. A beguiling and savvy performer, she certainly knows how to tantalise her audience. Appearing onstage in a curtain was a stroke of genius that tickled me also. The Lake Poets, in full band mode, drew a sizeable crowd to the Tunstall Hill tent and even won acclaim from legend Marco Gabbiadini. The band set tends to tread more optimistic ground than Longstaff solo and I think everyone fed on this energy. 'Small Town' and 'City By The Sea' are anthems for anyone from Sunderland who dared to support Split. This is a greater place than you think and people can and do make great things can happen here. Later, Kathryn Williams proved her Mercury credentials and was almost as memorable for her comedy as for her music. 'Little Black Numbers' done acapella through the loop-box was one of my highlights of the entire weekend and that is saying something. The food at Split was terrific and after a tasty antelope burger I took in the gothic drama of Kyla La Grange. 'Walk Through Walls' was my particular favourite song and one that showcases the pop sensibility which makes La Grange surprisingly accessible. She was also sweet enough to ask to publish on her fan page a photo I took of her playing, a nice touch to a pleb like me. Songwriting Titan King Creosote was excellent back over at Tunstall Hill and he seemed to enjoy performing even though the crowd was, by now, merry. It's an interesting dilemma given that festival organisers make a lot of their money through alcohol sales, but consequently I decided to skip The Unthanks, not particularly wanting their lovely folk to be tainted by people chatting over the top. I heard it was brilliant though, so more fool me. Co-headliners Pulled Apart By Horses were loud and on form despite the crowd inevitably being sedate compared to the ones normally found at their shows. The much-used 'Face-melting' is a good way to describe them but I prefer 'P.A-melting' for their performance at Ashbrooke, as they very nearly overloaded the whole thing. The groove of 'Wolf Hand' reminded me a bit of E.T.I.D and I found myself headbanging accordingly. Public Image Ltd. were rocksteady. It was a surreal moment when John Lydon made his entrance on stage at 9pm. Securing P.i.L to close Saturday seemed too good to be true but there he was large as life and irreverent as always. Some of the older punks will have enjoyed classics like 'Albatross' and 'This Is Not A Love Song' but my own highlight was the very recent 'Deeper Water'. Lydon is still a force and a voice that ought to be heard. I was a physical wreck by the end of Saturday and had to be up for a brief stint in work at 6am. Nevertheless, I made it bright and early on Sunday to catch openers Liars Lie. They were a little bit rough round the edges (it might have just been me) but I liked their experimental sound and the end of the set was unique. It can't be very often that someone promotes the use of litter bins and plays one in the same song. The bin being mic'ed up for sound made it even funnier. Pure Graft were unlucky because nearly everyone had gone for lunch when they were on. Hopefully they still enjoyed playing to me. Citizens! had the luxury of an extended soundcheck after Folks didn't turn up. A hip bunch, I can well imagine a song like 'Reptile' being an indie club favourite, but I found them a little forgettable. Horses for courses and all that. I'd never heard The Unit AMA before and they were weird but in a good way. Dressed in suits (and led seemingly by Nigel Bates from Eastenders), the hellacious sound they made was at odds with the image. It was like three middle-aged men warped by the 9 to 5 exploding, from the inside out. I've no idea why I enjoyed them so much, but Steven Malley's anti-guitar solo was one of the most original things going. If anyone can tell me what instrument he was playing during the final song that would be appreciated. The drummer of Warm Digits might just have been the most technically proficient musician on display at Split. What made his performance more impressive was the organic, perhaps even improvised nature of the music which he was accenting at breakneck speed; this all felt totally off the cuff and was mesmerising to watch, if hard to remember with any clarity. The reformed This Ain't Vegas had ascended to almost mythical status in North East music circles but like Tunstall Hill Tent compere Dave Harper, I missed them first time around. They're back and a big home crowd delighted in seeing their return at Split, whilst I had an education in their sound. 'Short Term Long Term' was a highlight, something tender amongst the anger. Field Music were next on the Main Stage and got their set spot on, with an excellent mix of tracks from the celebrated 'Plumb' and gems from their treasure-trove of a back catalogue. Even the sometimes ambivalent David Brewis must have been touched by the positive reception that Field Music received at Split and although it might not sit easily, it's about time they got some recognition. Hopefully the Mercury Prize nomination will be a good thing for Field Music. My highlight was 'Just Like Everyone Else', a beautiful reminder of how emotive the guitar can be and a love song in the proper sense. Some bands are perturbed when crowds don't stand right in front of the stage. Paul Astick of Hawk Eyes decided to solve this problem by bringing the mountain to Muhammad and getting in the crowd with us. Interestingly, as soon as he plonked his mic stand on the grass, we all naturally converged on him, which goes to show that people do want to be involved in the music, after all. A strange phenomenon. The music itself was as forthright as Astick, a drop kick to the senses. Saint Etienne are poles apart stylistically but gave an equally entertaining performance in the Main Tent. The songs were not quite as precise live as on the record, but the charisma of Sarah Cracknell had me entranced. 'Words and Music' is one of my albums of the year and it was great to hear the best of these songs at full volume. Classic 'Only Love Can Break Your Heart' got people dancing and by the end I think the band were a little surprised by how well they'd been received so far from London. Future Of The Left picked up the mantle of Hawk Eyes, only this time they got the audience to play the instruments as well as being in the crowd with them. I think I might have actually damaged my left ear forever during this set which was undoubtedly the loudest and most chaotic of the whole weekend, but one I enjoyed greatly. Leader Andy Falkous was a fractious character who had me in stitches with his sarcastic observations and put downs: 'not all songs with keyboards in them are by Duran Duran' he exclaimed. Meanwhile, Jimmy Watkins appeared to be a certified lunatic as he dropped his trousers and had one fan sing into his crotch. Riotously good. Local heroes and fathers of Split, our very own Futureheads brought the weekend to a magnificent close as they careered through an electric set that was cleverly interspersed with sing-alongs from latest LP 'Rant' and other acoustic goodies. I hadn't seen a 'conventional' Futureheads show since Manor Quay in December and so it was great to hear older songs like 'Meantime' and 'Carnival Kids' in all their amplified glory. 'The Old Dun Cow' had everyone screaming MACINTYRE at the tops of our lungs whilst 'Beginning Of The Twist' got a great reception from the football set. Unsurprisingly, however, 'Hounds of Love' and encore 'Decent Days and Nights' (done earlier acoustically) got the biggest reactions from the partisan crowd. At a Futureheads gig you feel as though you are in and not just at the show; it is always an uplifting experience and I left happy. The worst I can say of Split was that one of my pints (out of about the 15 I had) tasted a little farty. To say anything else negative about a local festival, put on entirely by a visionary few for the benefit of everyone in Sunderland, would be criminal. Split 2012 was brilliant. It too had its 'games makers' just like London 2012 and they deserve praise for helping us see out an Olympic Summer in great style. And now, endless rain...