review

Review: Careless Talk By Michael Richardson

Review: Careless Talk By Michael Richardson

Careless Talk is the latest from Tindal Street Press, and is Michael Richardson’s follow up to The Pig Bin- an acclaimed comic novel set in Birmingham in the 40s. Morley Charles is a liar, not in the “attacks could be launched in as little as 45 minutes” sense – but in a more DC Thompson-esque way, fibbing and pretending to be foreign to battle the insecurities of starting secondary school. Although having the odd drink, and fantasising about seeing the next-door neighbour in the bath isn’t quite Winker Watson material. Careless Talk, his second adventure reads very much as a comic – apart from the undertones of self abuse and the way the insecurities of youth are a lot closer to the surface. The heroes of The Beano are a way beneath young Morley too, who prefers Huck Finn, even if he does know more about them from his encyclopedia than actually reading Twain. It’s doubtful that he has much knowledge of the Mississippi when even Nechells is a far off place to be thought of with a little wonder. Although the book is defiantly and actively set in Birmingham, in order to get past the Alton Douglas factor,...

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Moseley Folk Saturday, brain dump

Had a great day at Moseley Folk Festival yesterday, here are some things I learned: The invention of wine glasses coming pre-filled and sealed at the top (so you could carry them in your pocket!) is a storming idea. The compère took laid-back to new levels of horizontalness. I don’t believe he managed to name one of the bands. Any place with a ‘pirate show’ is okay by me. Fairport Convention can be forgiven anything (karafolkie?) when they play ‘Matty Groves’. Andy Votel _is_ the DJ from The Archers (if The Archers had a DJ). Middle-class hippies are a breed apart. (Awww, don’t unplug that man’s guitar Tarquin, darling. Or mommy will be cross.). Simon Fowler is really good solo. Folk musicians drift between bands, even ones on the same line-up, with consummate ease. Here are some photos I took. And here are a couple of vids. (More soon)

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Review: Little Moscow by Mick Scully

Review: Little Moscow by Mick Scully

Sexual relations with penguins, tightrope walking from Beetham Tower to the Palisades, drinking in Tysley. No it’s not Stan Collymore’s to do list, it’s some of the surreal goings on in Mick Scully’s Little Moscow, the book and the – possibly fictional – bar where Birmingham’s notorious villains hang out. Tindal Street‘s latest book is a collection of short stories, that intertwine as underworld relationships often do. For all the fiction it’s the down at heel detail that works best, the motives of the characters is believable despite not having too much room to develop them over some strikingly paced stories. The disparate collection of crooks all have their own internal moral code, and a logic that allows them to burn, steal, shoot and “sleep with men without being gay”. It’s well drawn enough for you not to question them, whether you feel sick at the thought or not – a young thief that puts his own dog down disturbed me more than any number of killings for money, it has a real sadness and emotional depth. It’s in these passages that the book really rises above genre ‘noir’ fiction, criminals are human, after all. One hopes that Mick...

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Roots maneuver

Roots maneuver

Despite my pitiful attempt at live-blogging (thwarted by my phone crashing once every minute or so) BiNs was there at Rootsville on Saturday, fully enjoying the displaced festival experience. The chance to kip in my own bed – however postponed – after getting all festivaled up is fully appreciated by an old git like me. The Inspirals didn’t disappoint, nor did the brilliantly random line-up. Wandering to the bar and seeing an-almost string quartet jazz version of of national anthem (no idea who!) with the Dholblasters standing just off stage in full regalia (I think waiting to go on with the Destroyers) was a sight that I won’t forget in a hurry. The wet weather obviously kept some people away, but everything tat could be organised seemed to have been done to a tee. Loved the ‘del-boy”s bars out ‘underneath the arches’, and the odd train going overhead is something that Misty’s should incorporate into all their sets. CiB is doing what it does so well and collating everything on t’interweb about it

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Tunnel of Love

Tunnel of Love

I’ve just come back from Tunnel Vision, part of Architecture Week, a trip “underneath the pavements in Birmingham is a network of tunnels stretching from Victoria Sq to New St Station”. In my excitement to see subterranean Brum (which I think I inherited from my granddad, who I recall was somewhat obsessed with the possibility of a tunnel between Aston Hall and Holte Church) I hadn’t paid much mind to the art installation by Luke Jerram and Dan Jones – the intriguing sound and light came as a pleasant surprise. The installations talked about abandonment, with a pile of unloved typewriters and furniture filled with concrete – the ancient, abandoned nature was a little undone for me with the presence of eBay printed despatch emails in the ‘pile of post’ installation (lovely shadow sculpture tho’, see above – EDIT much better image from Luke himself, who tells me that it’s St Gabriel, the patron saint of postmen). A little research would show the building vacated by the Royal Mail very much pre-eBay. About 300 yards in the dark we came up against a gauze with a light installation behind it – strobes which had a dreamlike effect on dark-adjusted...

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Review: What Was Lost by Catherine O’Flynn

Review: What Was Lost by Catherine O’Flynn

Despite it’s Brummie pedigree and a so-good-it’s-almost over the top quote from Jonathan Coe (who I think is brilliant) on the front I wasn’t in the mood for this book. It was not about to get an easy ride, as I hadn’t got an easy ride driving back from its launch party when some sod of a 4×4 driver smashed into our tiny box, giving me a horrendously aching back and making every page-turn agony. Even with the engaging humans, and one taciturn cloth simian, the main character is ‘Green Oaks’ shopping centre (recognisably Merry Hill) and the mass of meat that frequents its chain-stores and hidden depths. No sooner do we get attached to Kate the wonderfully ten-year-old detective, who is engrossed with her surveillance of anyone and everything in the centre, than we lose her and are transported forward twenty years to Kurt whose job that really is and who is far from engrossed in anything. For me the main theme is the shopping centre as gravitational force, there isn’t anyone in the book, even the walk-on part of the eighties butcher, who isn’t sucked into it’s thrawl. Even though Kurt, Lisa, Kate and accompanying cast are...

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BiNS is mostly by Jon Bounds a Birmingham based social web consultant, producer and writer., You can hire him to work on your social web campaigns or anything really—he's not fussy. Follow him on twitter or drop him an email.

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