Who the hell are you ?

Watched that first episode of the new Doctor Who series last night. I had previously tuned right out of the whole re-birth thing mid-way through the second series after finally getting sick of Billie the vampire slayer, "good old London taaaan", the whole fucking Tyler family, and the sickly notion of a 900 year old Time Lord leching over some practically adolescent girly jailbait (just try and visualize, dear reader, ol' William Hartnell making Bambi eyes at Rose for two series on the trot to get things into proper perspective - yeeuch). It started off well, certainly, with the mildly unhinged Mr Eccles-cake at the helm, but towards the end it all seemed to rapidly degenerate into a hi-tech Hollyoaks with (nicely rendered) Cybermen - pretty vacant, no fun, never mind, it's bollocks (ed. - up the Pistols!).

Nah, I wasn't having it. Especially as I'd been watching wall to wall Pertwee and Baker classics at the same time which, in fair consideration, frankly still smack the bottom of the modern young upstart attempts, regardless of any piss-poor effects and ropey costumes or sets from back in the day. That stuff's all just gloss anyway, the feel is the real thing... that whole alien weirdness of the old skool Who which has been practically posted missing in the brave new Russell T era. At first I thought it was over exposure to sci-fi on telly and at the flix that made the new stuff look too comfortable and too grounded in the familiar... but revisiting the 70's stuff again gave lie to all that. All the post-modern awareness and self referencing in the world can't disguise the lack of otherness in the soul of the new breed. Back when I was a mere padawan, I was never quite sure whether the Doctor was really a good guy or a bad guy such was Tom Baker's barking, goggle-eyed lunacy - to this day I've still got visions of him as a giant flippin' cactus. Maybe it was the regular mix of outside broadcast film and cheapo, studio-based vt which added something intangible and unsettling to the mix. Maybe it was the burbling oddness of Dudley Simpson's incidental music. I can't quite put my finger on it. I'll stick my neck out and suggest setting the vast majority of stories (certainly for Tom) in oddball alien environments instead of, say, down town fucking Cardiff certainly helped out with the pesky science fiction bit that us nerds are rather keen on...

Anyway, the new one... well, it seems to have started off a fair bit better already. I do like Dr Tennant and think he's got the acting chops to really make the grade if the material is up to snuff. The effects are pretty damn excellent yet again, maybe even a step up from the last couple of runs so at least it should continue to look the part. Yes, the new assistant is pretty damn lovely (Uncle Mex sez black is always the new black but that's whole other blog entry) but at least they seem to have started off with a different kind of relationship than the previous gurning luv-in. I just hope we don't have to see the assistant's extended family every other frigging week like last time. I'll keep giving it a chance, I think. At least I've always got "The Robots of Death" to turn to if things go tits up (Christ, Russell Hunter, you don't get special guests like that these days... )

Made with the help of -

Einstürzende Neubauten "Kollaps" and "Halber Mensch" - a bunch of shouty German blokes with power tools making a quite horrendous racket... bloody great :-)

Hmm, seems to be quite a Germanic feel to this blog lately... which sounds like something I'd like to give the lovely neighbour but never mind...

Sweet as a Knut

Stumbled across this little fella the other day. What a sweetheart! He even has his own blog, not in English but still sadly a damn site more intelligible than this one - the fact that the German for polar bear cub seems to be eisbärbaby (literally "ice bear baby") just sends the cuteness meter into overload... yes, probably my second favourite German in the world, I think... :-P

Ahem... anyone catch the boxing on Saturday night ? Er, or the rugby ??? I missed it as I was out on my usual weekend binge drinking spree, downing 37 glasses of raw sewage for a laugh, gouging the eyes out from random passers by whilst rattling on all night about motors and burds... hard as f***ing nails, me... are you calling my pint a girl ??? etc etc yawn

Hell??? It sounds just like Heaven to me...

I've been desperately trying to hold myself back from turning this blog into the inevitable place of worship (that everyone who knows me predicted it would be) but all this latest new Sabbath Heaven and Hell activity has pushed the big man right over the edge. The lads are on tour in Canada at the minute and some wonderfully generous Sab-head has posted footage of them on YouTube...

Yes, of course, your kindly old uncle will lead you straight to them, my young padawans...

The Mob Rules, After All (The Dead), Children of the Sea, The Sign of the Southern Cross (come on!), Neon Knights, and the mighty Lonely is the Word as well as two utterly belting new ones The Devil Cried and Ear in the Wall - I'm not too proud to admit that I had to wipe down my monitor when that mighty riff to the glorious "Southern Cross" kicked in... ahem...

HEALTH WARNING : negative commentators will be defenestrated (post castration)...

Mmmm, that crow tastes just delicious...

Okay, let's just get it out of the way right from the start. Journey were simply fantastic. Phew. That new singer was spot on as it happened, another pitch perfect Perry with maybe a smidgen more power. That has to be a result in anyone's book. The instrumental players ? Bang on the money as you'd expect - the Schon-Cain-Valory axis were all present and indubitably correct. The set list? Wall to wall old school knockouts from "Wheel in the Sky" to "Separate Ways" and all points in between...so far, so tip-top...

However, the real surprise package for old Mexy was the drummer Deen Castronovo taking lead vox for some of the slow burners...and he was a bloomin' revelation. What a voice... "Who's Cryin' Now", "Faithfully", "Still They Ride" and, yes, a beautiful "Open Arms" - the big chap here was blubbin' like a girly nodding along with much appreciation...

So, the night was a belter all round then. Yes, I know, it was syrupy radio-friendly froth all the way, of course it was...but delivered straight with no chaser by the definitive exponents of the genre... As far as Mexatron is concerned, if ya don't like it then frankly get it right up you...

Funnily enough, I gave in to the desperate urge to buy myself an old Glenn Branca CD (Symphony No. 6) when I was in town earlier on - clearly there is some kind of bizarre subconscious battle going on between the left and right hemispheres of my brain of which I am but a helpless bystander...