Author Archives: Fordiebianco

Unpacking the Ratinger Hof Book

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Ah, the Ratinger Hof. The cauldron in which the Ur-punk soup was brewed, and in which new English (and German) music was showcased. Wire, The Krupps, DAF, Propaganda, and loads more either played there or were conceived within the naked walls, soaked with Altbier and smoked with unmentionable substances. For a few years, this ugly little pub in Duesseldorf was the centre of the West – German culture/counterculture interface in which the established scene observed what was bubbling under.

Ralf Zeigermann, himself a veteran of the club (I believe he even played there), contacted loads of his old buddies and with their help produced a gorgeous documentation of these wild days, astounding pictures and all. While the text is German, the acquisition is worth its while for the stunning pictures alone.

 

Have a look at the unboxing process:

Note 'Wire' themed Beermat

 

 

 

Convinced?

Get it.

Constant Communication Conundrums

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It is rather interesting that the biggest problem the passengers camping in Heathrow Airport were having wasn’t the lack of flights, food or featherbeds but the complete absence of reliable information from staff. None of the passengers had any idea whether their flights were cancelled, postponed or boarding. The same thing happened last night to me, standing on an icy platform of a large East London station. I was wondering where all the trains were gone that were promised on the information board, as no cancellations were announced, when a northern, grumpy voice said over the tannoy:

“There will no main line services running until 9pm. Main Line services after 9 pm will be running sporadically and will be severely overcrowded. There is no guarantee that any trains will be running at all, though”.

Helpful, ay?

Fortunately I knew that my particular train was running on a branch line, but all the punters around me just shook their head and didn’t understand any of this. I just hope that they haven’t ended as icicles on a train platform in East London.

David Laws. Not your average woolly liberal

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So I have just finished David Laws’ ’22 Days in May’, his account of the coalition negotiations between the libdems, the torys and labour. Interesting to read how keen the conservatives were to get a deal done, while Ed Balls, Harriet Harman and Ed Miliband were sabotaging the negotiations on Labour’s side, leaving Peter Mandelson and Andrew Adonis to struggle manly to negotiate in earnest. It just reaffirms what the best girlfriend ever has said for a long time: a labour party that has governed for so long had to be kicked out of government to renew itself on the opposition benches. Unfortunately it looks like there’s not much renewal going on, with the same characters still in charge and the infighting still going on. Fortunately Charlie Wheelan is now gone, but as long as the old Brownite stallwarts are still around there will be no sensibsle opposition. It is quite likely that with Ed leaving (and trust me, it’s not going to take long) the next labour leader will finally get rid of Ed Balls and his band of rabblerousers.

Anyway, it’s a good read and Laws doesn’t display himself as superhuman and omnicogniscient as Peter Mandelson has done in his memoirs. For anybody interested in British politics it’s definitely recommended.

Silenced by moving

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Hi all,

another 3 weeks of silence, but this time it wasn’t my fault, honestly! The best girlfriend and I have finally moved out of the post-apocalyptic and post-industrial land of the NEET to lusher pastures, to be correct to an (almost) coastal village in Mid-Essex. While the move itself was only over a distance of 50km, the usual catastrophes had to happen (the van not being ready on time, snow, a sulking workforce, misassembled furniture). But things have now settled, both the best girlfriend ever and me are starting to get used to the extra time it takes to commute to London and we have started to enjoy the trappings of living in the English countryside: world class rural pub within staggering distance, nocturnal silence, nice neighbours, no rioting in the streets and people smiling when you greet them. This alone makes the half an hour less sleep in the morning worth it. National Express East Anglia has so far performed admirably, apart from that night when (likely caused by snow) our train was replaced by a bus replacement service with a driver who had no idea where he was going and we were all saved by an enterprising chap who showed the driver the way (and helped him manoevre when he had to reverse) through the snowy night on treacherous country roads.

Gripped by Fear

 

There is only one small problem with our rural idyll: Broadband sucks. With the next exchange 5km away, I have to survive on downloads so slow that watching a movie on Apple TV needs a day’s planning. Our TV – aerial isn’t quite working either, so BBC’s iPlayer is the medium of choice. But hey: there’s always books. And the silence to enjoy. And no direct means that the Klipsch speakers can finally be turned up a bit…