Montague - A Year on the Sauce
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Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The new album is like an exquisite suit, with all the coloured threads you would hope for in a Morrissey release. These threads are embroidered with the fine dark blues of vigorous drumming and panoramic open guitars.
The black and greys of his themes of love lost and abandoned, rejection, grief and all those human emotions with which we associate this great lyricist. The purple of homoerotic undertones.
There is also the fine gold thread of a brilliant sense of humour which has lifted Morrisseys verse since Still Ill to this current crop of songs.
I was lucky enough to be invited to the first press play of Years of Refusal at The Pigalle club in Londons Piccadilly with Morrissey himself taking the extremely rare opportunity to introduce the album in person.
Dressed sombrely in v-necked jumper and shirt, he took to the stage for 46 seconds. He then sat and listened to two songs before making for the exit.
Being a few tables away from himself, a glass of wine in one hand and a vegetarian spring roll in the other will be my highlight of 2008. Unfortunately, when it came to the music his finery is too familiar.
There are no songs on this album which move the Morrissey canon forward, no surprising new sounds and nothing in the words worth listening out for. There are hints of Tormentors in the quality of the performance and production and memories of Your Arsenal in the use of samples.
But it lacks the sense of place which The Smiths epitomised (Manchester) and which Tormentors regained (Rome). There is nothing really Parisian about Im Throwing My Arms Around Paris. As the needle lifts from the vinyl, I have no real insight into the latest chapter in Morrisseys life. Sadly, the album cover is the best and most surprising feature.
As with all Morrisseys albums I will eventually acquire a great affection for this record, but there remains a fear that this is because of my loyalty to a true musical monarch: that I am unable to see through the emperors clothes.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Forget chatter about finding a perfect au pair. The talk of the table in Britains finest houses is a shortage of trusted and talented staff to nurture the family pot plants.
Households in Londons fashionable Chelsea, upmarket Mayfair and the most exclusive areas of Surrey are spending up to 14,000 a year to make sure their flowers are always in bloom.
Roman Abramovich, the Russian energy billionaire and chairman of Chelsea football club, hires a staff of two to make sure his plants are always in perfect condition before he arrives home at his Knightsbridge mansion.
Staff working for the 42-year-old, who last year was worth an estimated 11.7 billion and Englands second richest resident, are always fastidious in making sure two 1,000 topiary small-leaf hollies outside his home are pruned and polished to perfection.
Petr Kellner, 44, worth an estimated 4.7 billion last year, making him the richest man in his native Czech republic, likes to have his orchids gently sprayed and rotated before he returns to his London home. The 1,500 cloud-pruned Ilex Crenata must be leaf perfect.
Graham Wiley, the founder of software company Sage, also has a specialist staff which advises where best to place his favourite orchids, and to water and nurture them. The task takes between half an hour and an hour every 10 days.
One of the house-plant gardeners to the rich and famous said: Theyre all filthy rich and have unbelievably spectacular homes. Some of our clients have a lot of money, and spend an absolute fortune just on plants.
Andrew Davidson, 25, has set up Leaf-It-At-Home, which supplies pot plants to the rich, including Abramovich, for up to 8,000 and then charges 500 a month to water, feed and maintain them.
He said: The very rich like their pot plants to form part of the internal dcor and they have to be absolutely perfect all the year round. I will spend an hour, sometimes every week, watering, clipping, changing blooms, polishing leaves, taking away any dead petals, and rotating the plants.
The security around Abramovich is extremely tight and his staff run the place like a military machine. I will never be in the house while he is there but the plants we supply him have to be inch perfect whenever he is arriving home. Ive met his first wife but never spoken to him.
Most wealthy families will fill their homes with fresh blooms. But with fresh flowers now commanding 150 for each display from the smartest London florists and five or six bunches needing replacing every week many are now turning to pot plants instead.
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The recession will hit millions of hard working families really hard, and it scares me. Because, and in spite, of this we have to take any pleasures where we can find them.
Be it the revelation about Madoff (pronounced made-off) defrauding the stupendously wealthy and stupid of a generous helping of their ill-gotten gains, or the fact the man at the helm of the most significant company collapse in almost a century was called Dick Fuld (pronounced fold).
The names in this current tragicomedy suggest to me the dead hand of a playwright, as though we are stuck in a sequel to Tom Stoppards Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.
So, a little snippet of news tucked away in the back of the Guardian made me laugh until I cried: The embattled media empire run by former Mirror Group boss David Montgomery secured a two-month stay of execution yesterday as it tries to renegotiate its debts amid rising concern about its future.
Mecom, which has debts of almost 600m, compared with a stock market value of 13.5m, said it was in talks with its banks about amending its overdraft so as to provide financial stability in the medium term.
Its lenders have agreed not to check whether it is in breach of the covenants attached to its loans on 31 December, as originally planned, but on 28 February instead. Mecom in return is to pay a one-off fee of 2.5m (2.35m) to its banks and increase its interest payments by the equivalent of a 1.75-point rise in the interest rate, which is likely to cost it millions more unless a deal can be done quickly.
Reporters older than me will know of David Montgomery. He was the man who modernised The Mirror. He swept the features desk clear of all those public school revolutionaries, destroying the NUJ before it destroyed the newspaper.
He kept the boat afloat when Maxwell was bobbing around in the sea. The old ideologues in the Mirror chapel squawked about standards. But they were only interested in their fellow members and were afraid of progress, afraid of history and the brave new world of lower costs and higher profits. And the printers, dont get me started on the printers.
Todays Mirror is a testament to the Montgomery vision. The share price of Trinity Mirror has tanked from 6.25 in January 2006 to a low of 29.25p: a headache-inducing 84 percent wiped off the market value in the last 12 months. The market capitalisation has now fallen from 1.3billion to 132m.
The readership once hit four million (higher if you believe the tales about the executives lying to keep sales figures down because of a bonus promised to staff once it broke through that landmark). Now its 1.4 million and falling. Apparently, the plan was to asset strip the company and dump it on some gilded fool of a venture capitalist.
Richard Stott, the editor of the Daily Mirror from 1985 to 89 and 1991 to 92, wrote in the Independent back in March 2005: During Montgomerys tenure of more than six years he destroyed the infrastructure of the Mirror.
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