oneintheear

Tuesday, 7 June 2011

Hard Crew - You Were Warned

The Bang Face weekender seems like almost a lifetime ago - one where acting like a horse in pain was de rigeaur and not going to bed was essential. In many ways it's a lot better than reality. We went sort of get murked and sort of to review it. Here's the review - I left out certain bits. What happens at Bang Face gets put on the internet but only to a very select few.

Bang Face Weekender Hyponik review

The village of the damned

Sometimes the only thing that can save you is a Tesco meat feast pizza. And then you know you're up to your gullet in trouble. But so, somewhat predictably, it was the other Monday. Walking round Tesco with your brains hanging out of your ears and your eyes going in different directions can lead a man to make choices he could regret. The kiss off from making such a purchase was that there were no looks cast back in anger - it actually tasted fucking amazing - At the time of consumption, which was the day after, the combination of cheap meats and pure dirt was like a rubber dinghy to a drowning man. A much needed meaty tissue to the tears that inevitably follow three days of getting totally murked. Thank you Tesco. Here's a brief display of what happened...

Trailer Trash

Jager men

Mr Creamy's been round again

Lunch and din dins all at the same time

The only way to watch the football

Ooooooh

Stinky feet

Sunday, 5 June 2011

Bear Hug

Pour moi, the moniker 'The 2 Bears' conjures up images of two big chaps with beards cavorting together in a bush somewhere near Vauxhall. Or maybe sharing a milkshake in a posh cafe. But in housey housey terms it's Raf Daddy and Joe from Hot Chip making daft, but P.O.S.I.T.I.V.E dance music to grin your tats off to. Bear Hug is being bummed to death by Annie Mac at the moment on Friday nights - And it's no wonder - it's nutty enough to be a genuine hit but still untapped enough to love.

Bear Hug Resident Advisor review

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Thunder Bay

Hudson Mohawke makes music bent all out of shape - he changed the game last time and this ain't no different. FEELING THIS ONE. MASSIVE STYLEZ...

It's nice to go away - and it's nice to come back

A week off from an office should never be sneezed at - even during these highly pollinated times. And when yer skint. So when presented with the opportunity to fuck off for a bit, whether your nose is runny or your wallet empty, there's only one thing to do. Raid the penny draw, get a tissue out and snort it up. Time off is time off. Get out there and see the world. That's what I thought when I was working through the final three days of my notice period in a previous job. And so fate (and the generosity of the trainline's early booking system) enabled us to get out of the smoke and hit up Stafford, North Wales, Manchester and Sheffield in a blizzard of smoke, pints and hot wheels. That's right. Probably about as far from new horizons as you could get without returning to the womb, but a change is as good as a rest isn't it? Or a womb?

Turning up in Stafford dead gaseous and baggy of eye wasn't initially the one but, after letting the 'devil' out at Northampton, the rest of the seven day cup did runneth over with thrills and spills. Stumbling round Mam Tor talking shit and picking through sheep bones was one. It was exhilirating to get a real Heathcliff/Wuthering Heights flex on while everyone else was in school. Having to run from Salford to Manchester Piccadilly Train was even more exhilirating. The lungs have yet to get over it, but the sprint was part of a pre-planned strategy to prevent missing yet another train after getting bastardised in Manchester the night before.

Signs of supposedly oncoming maturity were confronted by meeting a pair of drooling babies. Lovely. Cars also played a part as I took a ride in our uncle's Chrysler and discussed Great Uncle Len who was so fed up, he threw himself in front of a train. An even happier ride was taken down in the vehicle that my dad's retirement is riding on - his italian stallion is his pride of joy and possibly receives more care and attention than his better half (my mum - #justsayin'). We gambled on two pence machines in Wales, danced to Simply Red in Sheffield and watched men who'd supposedly survived four heart attacks snort industrial strength gak in Manc. The jaunt culminated in a fry up and an intense, pissed up battle on the snooker table. Before heading back to the smoke on the Friday to reboard the murky choo choo... Nice one to everyone who put us up and propped us up. Fuck it was mint...