Hello, there. I’m Darren, and this is a collection of stuff I’ve written over the years, mainly about music but there’s some other stuff too, such as film, TV and merch. You’ll also find the odd bit of promo for videos and music I’ve made. Thanks for dropping by.
Phew, time travelling really takes it out of a guy. How’s that for a dramatic lead-in to a whinge about the joys of jetlag? Approximately 30 hours have passed since Tara and I arrived back in the UK after a 12-day gallivant on t’other side of t’Atlantic.
Our jaunt began with a week in Tennessee, a return trip (we first visited in 2004) that we decided to make with my parents, who wanted to visit Graceland, the home of Mr Elvis A Presley. The site hasn’t changed much in four years, despite being...
It’s a bit late, this one - which is ironic considering that, on the night (Friday), it was early: an 8.50pm start and a 9.45pm finish. Tara and I only just made it to the venue on time, due to a fire at London Bridge that knocked a chunk of South Eastern trains’ timetable severely out of whack.
It was the second time that Jackdaw4 had played the Soho Revue Bar, halfway up ‘adult entertainment alley’ in London’s West End. Drink prices aside, it’s actually a decent venue, with a snug but...
It’s 10.30pm at Brixton Academy (and most other places in London). Curfew is 11pm. My accomplice Matt leans in, looks at his watch, and deadpans: “Plenty of time for two more songs.”
My love affair with The Black Crowes began in 1990, when they were cutting a swathe through the long-haired rock ’n’ roll scene as the new Faces. My fandom peaked around 1994 and the release of their third album, Amorica, an intense career high. By this point, the band were the living embodiment of a late-’60s stoner...
Here’s a recipe that looks great in the book but turned out to be a bit of a disaster: take two pints of bitter, a bottle of lager and one of cider. Mix with fine conversation and spread out over the course of three hours. At 7.30pm, attend a solo acoustic gig by one of the great American songwriters at London’s Royal Albert Hall.
It sounds lovely. What could possibly go wrong?
My apologies to Mr Kris Kristofferson, but I came mighty close to dozing off during his...
The nice lady in the chemist handed me a packet of travel sickness pills.
“These might make you drowsy. You’re not driving, are you?”
“No, I’m not driving.”
What I neglected to mention was that I wasn’t travelling at all - not in the physical sense, anyway. My plan was to pop a pill, sit in a darkened cinema and spend 90 minutes goggling George A Romero’s Diary Of The Dead - hopefully without puking at the handheld camera work...
"You have never experienced anything like Cloverfield."
Empire magazine’s Olly Richards, there, igniting a flame up my backside that propelled me to my local Vue on Saturday afternoon.
Unfortunately, the Cloverfield experience echoed ones I had watching The Zombie Diaries and, to a lesser extent, The Blair Witch Project on the big screen. I’m just not cut out to have stomach-churning shakycam engulfing my field of vision for any length of...
In the summer of 1989, two of my friends and I spent 10 days on a round-the-UK trip - mostly sleeping in the car, which by the end smelt like a neglected laundry basket. To take our minds off the waft of stale breath, we spent many a happy hour playing a cassette of Live Fast, Die Fast, the debut album by Tamworth band Wolfsbane, which I’d thankfully had the foresight to pack.
Towards the end of our trip, as we headed south to London, we decided to call in at the Marquee on Charing...
Dan Baird once joked that all his songs were about teenage runaways. For Tommy Hale, it’s lost love.
“This is about a girl that left me. Pretty much every song is about a girl that left me.”
Reassurance from bassist John is swift: “We won’t leave you, Tommy!”
The introduction is for Miss Independence, a choice cut from Tommy’s new album, Stolen Conversations, Three Chords And The Truth. The song sounds even more striking in a live setting, its falsetto hook a badge of the Texan performer’s confidence.
Yep, it’s the annual ‘look at my pumpkin’ blog. The pic is slightly out of focus, but you get the idea. I think he’s better than last year’s effort. He has more character and is definitely more evil-looking. I’m not going to chuck him out just yet - he’s glowing away on my desk as I write.
Tara and I kicked off last night’s celebrations with The Simpsons’ Treehouse Of Horror VIII on Channel 4, before firing up the DVD player for 1982 spookfest Poltergeist, a film I saw at least...
I popped back to Milton Keynes yesterday for the final day of Collectormania 12, as it was the only day on which Elisabeth Sladen was appearing.
I ummed about it the night before, as Sunday transport meant a four-hour round trip. But using the old ‘I’m more likely to regret something I didn’t do than something I did do’ logic, I woke up on Sunday, jumped on a train and got to MK around 11.45am. And I’m...