They Walk, They Talk, They Rock!

This coming Saturday the clocks are going to be turned back and Scotland will once again be plunged into a pitch black winter abyss of eternal darkness, doom and constant p#ssing rain, closely followed by the pessimistic outlook and greetin’-faced disposition of its native citizens. (And you wonder why we have a drink problem?) Fortunately though, I appear to be completely immune to this seasonal “malaise” (from the French “ma” meaning “mother..” and “laise” meaning “..f#cker, where’s the sun gone?”) and always go about my daily business whistling a happy tune with a song in my heart, a smile for everyone and a little bluebird perched on my shoulder. In case I get hungry.

Next week I’m going to tell you more about a little project I’m about to undertake (I don’t want to reveal too much at the moment but let’s just say it involves the phrases “smoking” and “quitting”) which I’m sure will improve my already jovial temperament tenfold. But meantime, for those less fortunate than I (me?), here’s a little gift (a gift that’ll keep on giving) to help get you through the next few long, endless, dreary, tiresome, debilitating, soul destroying months.

Below is an old grainy vhs video recording (and don’t get me started on how f#cking long it took me to convert and compress this for the interweb) of The Signals, greatest pub rock ‘n roll band ever. From Falkirk. Shot at Grangemouth’s O2 Arena (formerly the Town Hall) in May of 1994, it showcases the band at their creative and physical peak, just before the pizza addictions and botched surgeries sent us spiralling downwards.

If you like this (if?), you can find some additional footage of other songs from the same gig at the band’s MySpace site by clicking all these words in red that are underlined. If you really, REALLY like this and are now reaching for fresh underwear at the thought of perhaps someday seeing us perform live in the flesh, then come back next week when I will have news of a rare concert outing taking place next month.

Meantime, kick back, relax and prepare your sensitive areas for bit of shudderin’ as you experience the full (but in no way ‘Hi-Def’) rockin’ majesty of The Signals performing ‘Ballroom of Romance’. For those of you too young to remember 1994, please note that the t-shirt-tucked-in-high-waist-jeans-fat-ass look was all the rage back then. But no, I have no idea what the hell was going on with my hair…

That's My Wee Brother, That Is

Just a quick “shout out” (is that still a commonly used phrase? or is “big up” something that would get me more “down” with the kids? or should I just shut the f#ck up and go back to my pipe and slippers?) to my wee-est of wee brothers Keithy who successfully completed the Chicago Marathon on Sunday. I am very proud.

Keithy – 4:45 is a decent effort bro but I have to tell you that when I visited the Windy City in ’03, I had no trouble managing 6 and a half… and being Chicago, they were deep dish ones too! Ask Brian. I know you told me the 87 degree temperatures were a tad too hot on the day but honestly, you really need your oven fired up to about 200 minimum to produce a quality pizza experience. Maybe next year, eh?

Seriously, I know you’ve raised over five grand for a very worthy autism charity but if you can put off paying the do-gooders for a while, you could probably snap up a couple of banks over here with that and still have change for beers. Worth thinking about.

Anyway, have some relaxing time off and then get the sticks out. The preparations for Team Edge 2010 start right here

Something For The Weekend 44

Dear Dave,

How are you mate? Long time no fondle, eh? Well it’s been another tumultuous week in our dizzy world of high finance market stock index thingys which came to a head on Wednesday when, after a lunchtime visit to the local biscuit factory, a colleague in the office had the barefaced temerity to suggest that I couldn’t eat 50 Toffee Pops in one day. (He doesn’t know me very well.) Tune in again at the end of November when I will execute this Cool Hand Luke-like challenge in aid of the Tiny Tims In Need charity day and in so doing, will wipe that sneery smirk off his sly coupon and on to the other side of his shoulders.

But enough of this high brow stuff. What other dumbed down cultural delights should I be pointing your handsome rugged features toward (or not) in a Kirsty “You Just Know She Would” Wark, Newsnight Review-type of way?

Cinema
So how was ‘Tropic Thunder’? I haven’t seen it yet but last weekend I dragged my sorry ass out to see ‘Star Wars – The Clone Wars’ with my two newest best friends, Jerry and Ben, and OMG was it a big pile of stinkin’ cartoon poo. Mind you, I say that but if the truth be told I fell asleep for most of it when I realised Princess Leia was not going to dance in her golden bikini around the “pole” in Jabba’s palace. Talking of which, if you haven’t gotten an engagement present for that lovely fiancé of yours yet, I’m sure THIS would go down a storm. Let me know. And take pictures.

Music (and Television) Part 1
You simply MUST tune into ‘Later with Jools Holland’ on BBC2 tonight Dave because you’re going to see a very rare appearance from one of my all time favourite songwriters, John “Don’t F#cking Call Me Cougar” Mellencamp. Thankfully, he’s finally managed to get himself a passport and leave his kibbutz in Indiana and, after being presented with a “prestigious” Q award in London earlier this week, I really hope he does THIS CLASSIC SONG, my all time rockin’ favourite. Which begs the question… why the f#ck do The Signals not cover this? Donald?

Television
I’m totally riveted by all this election fever in the States at the moment (‘The Daily Show’ and ‘The Colbert Report’ are essential nightly viewing) and was glued to the screen the other night to see just how badly that Sarah Palin woman could f#ck up the Vice Presidential debate. But to my surprise, she really didn’t (leaving to one side the rather prevalent habit of not actually answering any of the questions that were asked) so I was left somewhat deflated. Still, with four weeks to go till the election there’s plenty time yet.

But forget all that Strictly X-Factor Dancing reality p#sh that’s spewed out on a Saturday night Dave. Make your chubby wee fingers turn to Channel 4 instead where you’ll find the wonderful Paul Giamatti (remember ‘Sideways’?) playing the lead role in historical drama ‘John Adams’. I love all that ‘Down With The British, No Taxation Without Constipation, Tea Party In Boston” malarkey and, being an HBO film, it doesn’t get much better than this.

Sport
Normally I’d wax lyrical about how I’m playing golf at gorgeous Gullane tomorrow – as well as at Craigmillar this afternoon on a spare day’s holiday – but my thoughts are squarely concentrated instead on my wee-est of wee brothers, Keithy, as he gets set to run the Chicago Marathon on Sunday.

Years ago, he ran the Falkirk Half Marathon and I turned up on the route for support, armed with a bottle of Lucozade and a Mars bar in case he needed an athlete’s emergency burst of NRGGGG. As he jogged past me I broke into what could only be described as a “flat out sprint”, arms outstretched with the survival goodies but alas, I couldn’t catch him and keeled over in a wheezing mass of flab some 50 yards later. I thought at first that he might have speeded up to get away from me but realised later this was just my delirious imagination working overtime, an unfortunate result of the blood pouring out of my ears.

So Dave, since it’s not worth investing in our company’s shares anymore – currently trading at 3 Blue Smarties per share on Wall Street, a 50% fall from yesterday’s high of 6 Brown Peanut M&Ms – why not put your money instead to a very worthy cause, close to the hearts of the Sutherland clan, by visiting...

www.firstgiving.com/keithsutherland.

Music Part 2
Finally Dave, I have to tell you I really love that new album from Elbow – ‘The Seldom Seen Kid’ – and have been listening to it constantly for weeks now. I know you’re going through something of a Metallica “love-in” at the minute but put your tongue away and take time out from your leather fetish to check it out if you can. ‘One Day Like This’ (love this video) is current favourite to be my song of the year and the sentiment is spot on…

“Throw those curtains wide, one day like this a year’d see me right.”

Damn tootin’… could be today.

Cheers, Edge

P.S. A very happy birthday to my eldest nephew Joe. He’s 20 today. Here he is with two of his brothers. He’s the one on the right.

Don't Panic, Mission Accomplished

Couldn’t locate the original header image for this blog so just looked out my good ‘ole green Diesel t-shirt last night and took a new, up to date photo instead... phew!

Don't Panic, It's An "Adjustment"

Stock markets around the world went into freefall today when news emerged that the main header image on neilwritestheblog had “mysteriously disappeared”. Traders and speculators were reportedly “sh#tting themselves” at the prospect of such monumental change within this veritable institution and calls for a $700 billion “slush fund” to aid the crisis found widespread favour, especially among female “investors”.

“He’s a hunk of burnin’ hotness,” sobbed one inconsolable soul. “The thought of logging on and not seeing his roguish features and unkempt mullet is just too much too bear. I might as well join a nunnery. Or buy a new washing machine with a higher spin speed at least.”

Ned Suderlang, foppish CEO and Still President of neilwritestheblog was unavailable for comment but bowed to the mass hysteria by issuing a short press release denying rumours that a “magic portrait” stored in Neil’s attic had recently been destroyed in a small house fire, thereby breaking the spell of eternal youth. “It’s utter piffle,” claimed Suderlang. “And besides, Mr Lucifer promised me that the contract doesn’t come into effect until 2020. Now where did my shadow go?”

Some technical analysts went out on a limb by asserting that the catastrophe was probably caused by something straightforward – an unpaid web page bill where the header image is hosted was one mad theory – but they were quickly turned upon by a seething angry mob before being dragged to the river and drowned in a cloth sack for uttering such crazy devil-talk.

Most eyes now remain tightly shut under the covers with a pillow on top as many wonder whether we will make it to the end of the week without bums exceeding “Holy F#ck” on the Squeaky Scale™. But a loyal few are holding a candlelight vigil outside the neilwritestheblog headquarters and, after being invited inside for a “private audience and healing session”, contend that everything will be "tip top and perky again" by Friday morning. The world holds its breath and waits...