Craig's Blog

Kings of Leon rock Cape Town...to sleep.

So October has seen two very contrasting international acts visit our underused stadium.  Three weeks ago we were Viva la Vida-ing to Coldplay and last night we were setting our Sex on Fire to Kings of Leon.  And by setting it on fire I mean rubbing 2 damp sticks together and hoping for smoke.  For me Coldplay came with very little expectation.  Their early music is a touch insipid with drawn out songs that leave you waiting for a chorus that never comes, and their frontman is an annoying nasal fruit name loving twerp.  However, on their last 2 albums they have crafted a couple stadium-sing-along numbers which when delivered with a whole lot of energy made for a thoroughly enjoyable evening. I found myself jumping around like mad man and singing Every Teardrop is a Waterfall for a week afterwards.  I was never very polite about them leading up to the show but I came away humbled and impressed.

So, you can understand my disappointment when Kings of Leon with their gritty, dirty, southern rock grinding and shrieking delivered the concert equivalent of “pan flute cover versions of movie soundtracks”.  They played all the songs I wanted to hear so why did I walk away feeling so flat.  I was there ready to  jump around like my shoes were on fire, let along my sex , but I could barely muster a sway.  In an interview I saw them giving on the eve of the show Caleb Followill spoke about how the size of the crowds they have been playing to has grown very quickly.  They headlined at Glastonbury to 90,000 people last year.  He says they started out playing in clubs that got steadily bigger and then suddenly they were playing to tens of thousands.

I can understand how the 4 of them cranking out their hits in a more intimate venue like the Brixton Academy could work.  But they needed to give a lot more of themselves in a venue like our stadium.  They never left their mic’s, they hardly said a word to the audience.  Are they not confident with their instruments? It was just a little bit vanilla.

But they were only half of the problem.  The real buzz killer came from the crowd.  Cape Town, you were pants last night. Kids whose momies and daddies obviously bought their tickets walking around and talking throughout the 2 hour set.  Idiots in skinny jeans, scarves, rosaries and flannel shirts checking their stupid fringe was in place rather than letting go and enjoying the show.  Absolute morons.  We get so little in terms of international acts here so why the hell weren’t you concentrating on the band.

And one last thing.  Big Concerts, whoever makes your decisions about number of bars needs to come down out of his/her VIP box and try buy a beer. I’ll happily admit that a little buzz goes a long way towards my enjoyment of a gig.  So to be faced with a 200m queue at the one bar that General Standing has access to, is bollocks. I will be making a serious investment in tot packs  and will happily flout your Do’s and Dont’s guide for whoever comes next.

Rant Over.

This shouldn’t be necessary but after today its clear some people don’t know. Here’s a reminder.

#1 Questions that only warrant one word answers will get one word answers. No exceptions.

# 2 If you sit on the phone and cackle like a hag or a witch I will burn you at the stake. Salem style.

#3 If 0.25 seconds elapses after the robot turns green and your car hasn’t started roling forward I will hoot…or rear end you…or rear end you while hooting.

#4 You may be a girl. You may be a pretty girl. you may be a pretty girl with very perky boobs. But if you push past me without saying excuse me, I will punch you in the face…hard.

#5 If you leave an open packet of biscuits, sweets, chips where I can see them you may as well have attached a post it note saying “Craig help yourself”. And yes I can see them in a tin in the cupboard.

Lets see how tomorrow goes. This could become a regular class.

At a simply mind-staggeringly long 6 weeks the Cricket World Cup is set to test non cricket lovers and even some cricket lovers’ patience. With 4 Associate teams and 2 weak Test teams in the mix there have been and are going to be some seriously one-sided matches. But with these David vs Goliath match ups comes the chance that a cricketing minnow will release that sling flung stone just right and catch the giant between the eyes and put him on his lily white Pommy ass.

Kevin O’ Brien take a bow. Since the retirement of Shaun Pollock cricketing gingers have been searching for a hero. And although your charitable notions have led to that abomination of a dye job, the world knows you are still a ginger at heart and gingers around the globe are celebrating with you. And its not just the carrot tops. Anyone who loves an underdog come good story, and all of us who enjoy seeing the Poms crying into their lager, are revelling in this triumphant moment.

It does seem somewhat unlucky though that of the 4 Associate teams South Africa got the pluckier 2 in Ireland and the Netherlands while group A got Canada and Kenya who have been abysmal so far. Kenya are yet to go past 150 runs. But having just seen us dispatch the Netherlands in such a professional and incident free way the group games may just be speed bump free. I love the fact that we have entered this World Cup free from bluster and expectation. There have been a few moments with early wickets and biggish partnerships mounting in the opening 2 games where the wheels could have come off, but the team have shown patience and have simply weathered the storm before regaining outright ascendancy. The problem is with wins will come expectation and then pressure and then the inevitable opportnity for the banana skin to make its usual world cup appearance.

But for now expectation is under control. 2 big games against England and India to come. Ireland and Bangladesh are the potential cough cough splutter splutter say no more games. But looking at the balance of the team and the serenity of the 2 victories so far I don’t see progression to the quarter finals being a problem. The knock out stages are a whole other kettle of fish but lets talk again then.

Until then I will keep watching the minnows, hoping for upsets, provided the name Proteas is not included anywhere near those headlines.

So, recently celebrated my 35th birthday. And with the way I’ve been living this could very well be mid life and therefore I am due a crisis. Most days I manage to convince myself that I am perfectly happy with my lot. Then there are days where I wake up in the middle of the night, heart hammering, sitting bolt upright in bed thinking God what I have achieved. How the hell will I support my wife and kids. Then I remember, I don’t have a wife and kids. This makes me relax a little until I think, what a loser. Your baby brother is about to get married, has bought a house, and has a proper grown up job. Now this post isn’t meant to be me feeling sorry for myself although it does sound that way. I actually do have a point. And that is Muslims have it lucky. Arranged marriage is a bloody brilliant idea.

Imagine not having to worry about meeting and asking someone out, not spending hours trying to get into shape, not worrying about what your clothes, your hair, your job and your car say about you. Mom and Dad will sort it out. How flippin awesome. So what if she has a hair lip, a lazy eye and the arse of a hippopotamus, thats a small price to pay for not having to deal with all the other crap.

And there is a 2nd reason why this is truly an enlightened way for society to conduct itself. Women are incapable of making a sensible decision for themselves. I have no problem making friends with girls. In fact thats all I seem able to do. And what this means is that instead of lots and lots of sex I get to listen to stories about ex boyfriends and how guys just want one thing, and how guys are such bad listeners and so not understanding. Then I get to watch these girls making all the same bad decisions again that led them to these douche bags in the first place. Then these same women who have just used up what seems like days of my life regaling me with accounts of their disfunctional relationships tell me what I am doing wrong with girls and what I should and shouldn’t do the next time I meet one. Fabulous.

So as mentioned we do have some excitement in the family in the form of my brother’s wedding at the end of the month. I finally get to give a wedding speech which is almost as exciting as the wedding itself. Not sure if there will be any suitable ladies who make bad decisions after too much champagne but I live in hope. Bradley didn’t need an arranged marriage to meet his fiance, he did it the old fashioned way, on the internet. My house mate has suggested I give it a try. Checked out a few sites. All the singles in my neighbourhood are damaged cougars with a couple of illegitimate kids tucked way. That squint big assed hippo my parents are going to fine me is sounding better all the time.

When I turned 30 it felt like I now had another decade to do all the things I failed to do before that milestone. Half that decade is now gone and the list still has a lot of unticked items. So I’ll stop wallowing in self pity and get busy.

If you only watch 1 YouTube video this year make it this one.

By now the world knows about the death of Eugene Terrebalance and speculation about impending civil war are rife.  The problem is who really cares enough to go to war.  For me, here in the Republic of the Western Cape life is dandy.  It feels like we are a million miles away from Ventersdorp.  And on top of that, for me to go to war its gonna take a damn spectacular and inspiring leader to give me a Braveheart-style rev up.  And therein is the problem.  The leaders in this country are buffoons.  The people are awesome and on the whole far smarter than those in power.  Within hours of each other the secretary general of the AWB, Andre Visagie, and the leader of the ANC Youth League Julius Malema had media meltdowns.  Here is the evidence.

Secretary general of the AWB, Andre Visagie, loses it on live television.

Not to be outdone, the uneducated oaf, the clown that is Julius Malema, verbally abused and evicted BBC Journalist Jonah Fisher from a media briefing at Luthuli House.

Julius Malema evicts BBC journalist Jonah Fisher from media briefing.

Sorry for the majority of us it feels like we are the perpetual sideshow to the circus that is the governance of political organisations in this country.  But like a circus the animals are kept in cages, and the clowns are pathetic, sad individuals behind the makeup.

Riding into the South Easter is like hitting a wall repeatedly for 109 km

There are only 5 more sleeps until the 2010 Pick and Pay Cape Argus Cycle Tour.  Last year saw 60km/h winds cause havoc on race day so it is understandable that I have been glued to the weather channels this week.

The South African Weather Service has the wind at a heart-sinking 45km/hr whereas Winguru has a more conservative guesstimate of 14 knots (25km/hr).  Cresting the final rise to find out that you still need to pedal even downhill is soul destroying, as great gusts try to push you alternatively into the sea and then the rock wall to your right.

Last year was also the year Matt “Francois” Damon rode.  This year we have cycling royalty.  Lance Armstrong will take his turn to find out that the Tour de France is a Sunday afternoon jaunt along the promenade compared to pedalling into our south easter.  Anyway, here’s hoping the weather man gets it wrong and that we miraculously get a tail wind all the way round.

You’re at a gig, the band already has you eating out of the palm of their hand and then they drop in a cover that has you rushing the stage, waving a lighter, screaming like a little kid on Christmas morning and peeing your pants.  It’s sheer genius…lazy as all hell, but genius none the less.

Spent another hard morning surfing You Tube yesterday looking for some of the more ridiculous covers out there.  These are my 5 favourites.  Not alwyas good, but always unexpected.

No. 5 – One more time – Travis

First saw this on late night telly in London.  Better than the original.  Fran Healy is certainly a more credible musician than Britneeeeeeeee and actually interjects some real emotion into this song about spousal abuse.

No. 4 – Teenage Dirtbag – Earl Okin

Saw Earl in a comedy club in Covent Garden.  He really is not very attractive but postures himself as a sex symbol and musical genius.  His bossa nova cover of Wheatus’ Teenage Dirtbag brought down the house.

No. 3  – Fresh Prince of Bel Air Theme – Kay Pettigrew

What can you say – beautiful.  I can imagine driving along with the windows down, leaving home for a long time. Real sadness that Will Smith’s rapping could never convey.

No 2. – Poker Face – Daughtry

Maybe its because the original was so awful that this version doesn’t sound like a half bad song.  Gets a little repetitive but certainly unexpected for an aspiring rock act.

And at Number 1.  Really she should have been taken out and crucified  for even thinking about doing this.  When I saw the title I was like all up in her face like Laverne in Scrubs saying “Oh no she didn’t” (cue big black american lady voice).  But then I watched it and thanks to her backing singers and band this blew the cotton socks off the audience. Its Pink doing Bohemian Rhapsody.  What are your favourites?  Send me your list so I can at least make it a Top 10 next time.

Soaking up the rays on Clifton 4th

As a result of the majority of the world finding it impossible to spell and an ugly narcissistic vein I have running through my body Hlala Phansi is moving.  I have always wanted to see my name up in lights (browser search bar will have to do) so here it is.  I will continue to regale you with the injustices, idiocy and irony that I encounter, as well as update you on the adventures of life perched on the end of a continent…oh and a lot of cricket.