Monday, 24 December 2007

A Merry Christmas to All !!!

I know I've not been here for a while, been a bit busy with other blogs, but I thought Christmas Eve was as good a time as any to post...and by way of a treat fro those who have suffered long, returning to find no new posts, here's a song I've written specially for Christmas. Its called One Stranger

Thursday, 22 November 2007

As Heather Mills McCartney might have put it, I'm finally on the last leg...

Incredibly, tomorrow I once again jet off to a gig, for the fifth time this month. Harrogate, in the North of England is my eventual destination. This time, I am going to attempt a multiple stop kind of thing, hoping to call in on friends in Luton, my Dad in Derby, my daughter in Sheffield, my ailing bass guitar in Doncaster and my son in Wakefield, all in the space of 24 hours. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I will be finding time to do a full show with BC Sweet. Then , assuming I have enough left in the tank to make it back to Spain, I can relax a little as we take our seasonal sabbatical, re-emerging as hungry rockers again at the beginning of February.

Wish me luck, it's gonna be a long weekend!

Thursday, 15 November 2007

A Gig Too Far

I think its midweek. Probably Thursday. But I wouldn’t swear to it! I’m in that no-man’s land, that space-time continuum known as “between gigs”.
I’m semi-recovered from my trip to the West Country in the UK for the 70’s festival last Saturday night. Four days growth of beard, unkempt hair, and I’m trying to get to this Saturday before I have to make myself presentable again. I’m still nursing a dodgy throat which I’ve been unable to shake off for weeks now. It usually just about recovers enough for me to hammer the hell out of it at each gig.

But this weekend…I don’t know if it’s because it’s at a venue I used to play back in the 80’s, or the fact that they want us to play 50% longer than we normally do for the same money. I am pretty sure it’s got a lot to do with the fact that it’s out on a wild and desolate storm-battered coast, somewhere off to the North West of Carlisle. I fly into Luton. The day before. It will take most of Sunday to get there, and I won’t arrive back home in Spain much before 8pm on the Monday night.

My joy of playing is currently a slender thing, stretched to breaking point at having to jump through these hoops. Which side will the see-saw come down on? How long before the minuses outweigh the plusses?
Only time will tell.

Kev Moore

Wednesday, 7 November 2007

Airline Etiquette, or; Give me a good seat or I'm hi-jacking this Mother to Cuba!

I have just returned from playing a Festival in Lubeck, Germany, which involved 4 flights in 28 hours, having to fly via Palma, Majorca from Mainland Spain.

Kicking my heels in any number of departure/waiting/transit/boredom lounges gave me time to ruminate on the modern torture that is air travel. I’ve broken it down into four main bones of contention:

1) Seat Allocation.

Nowadays, not a given, although it doesn’t prevent the mentally challenged myopic woman looking for seat number 236. I have lost count of the number of times the stewardess has to repeat “It’s just your allocation number, you can sit anywhere.”By the time the penny has dropped with these people, “anywhere” is usually in the cargo hold.Like a shining light, some economy airlines still offer you the opportunity to choose your seat, if you’re at the airport early enough. Like before you were born.

I selected an exit seat, needing the extra legroom. “Aisle or window?” I was politely asked. I opted for the aisle. I got the aisle, but not the exit. I attempted to dislocate my knees, so that I might insinuate myself into the miniscule gap between my seat and the one in front. Once wedged, I could observe the tide of humanity coming down the aisle. Which brings me to the next point;

2) Passengers from Hell.

There are a number of types you wish to avoid, but basically we can narrow it down to two.
1) Mother with screaming kids

2) Extremely large person

You definitely don’t want screaming kids near you. They don’t shut up. Ever. And the small ones don’t know how to compensate for the air pressure thing with the ears. It hurts. They don’t know what to do. They cry. You try and put them out of the emergency exit. It’s all very embarrassing.

A word to families with noisy and/or badly behaved kids; If you’re going on holiday- TAKE THE CAR.

Extremely large people can be a problem in several ways. If they sit next to you, your armrest becomes enveloped in the folds of their body. I once sat with such a person and they could only open their dinner tray to their chin. Still, I guess it was easier to sweep the food in…

The second hazard from extremely large people is the one I suffered at the weekend. They sit in front of you. They like to test the “springiness” of the seat, and, even before take-off, see how far it will recline.

NEWSFLASH: This seat is reclining nowhere buddy, my knees are nearly coming out of your face, and I might never walk again but you’re getting NO extra degrees on this angle!

3) The Terrorist Inspired Mini-Industry manufacturing little bottles and transparent bags.

Who said Al Qaeda doesn’t believe in Free Enterprise? Why, singlehandedly they have created a new market for stupidly tiny receptacles for a pointlessly infintessimal amount of hair gel/toothpaste/pile cream etc. Retailers have been quick to jump on the band wagon “catering to our needs” and lining their pockets. There’s even a vending machine at some airports selling empty plastic bags. Now that’s cutting edge commercialism…Oh, sorry, no it isn’t, It’s a bloody great rip-off, I was confused.

So, there we have it. If Mr and Mrs Grey Haired Anglo-Saxon retirement couple from Dorking want to blow up a plane they’ll only be able to take a hundred millilitres of each dangerous substance in a clear plastic bag, that virtually no-one looks at, so that’s all right then,. We’re all safe.

4) In Flight Food

So called because it’s quickly thrown back at the stewardesses.Most economy (i.e.crap) airlines now fail to provide any food unless you provide them with the deeds to your house, so I suppose I should be grateful that I got “food” at the weekend.

On the first flight, a bottle of water and some cheese “snacks”. On the second, a slice of reconstituted Turkey in a J cloth…no, sorry, it was bread. An easy mistake to make. And the Turkey looked like the nearest it had ever been to a bird was the woman who was serving it.

Of course, this freebie food is designed to make you clamour for their executive menu, where you can pay 10 euros for…well, pretty much the same thing, but with some sauce.

So there you have it. If you really need to fly, buy your own plane.

Friday, 2 November 2007

Gone tomorrow, Here today!

I know I've been noticeable in my absence from these hallowed pages of late, dear reader, so I thought I'd make amends with a pointer to a small corner of the blogosphere that's been occupying my time and my thoughts recently. I'm off to Germany tomorrow for a show with BC Sweet, but right now, journey with me if you will via this magical link, to my scary story:


Monday, 29 October 2007

Busy, Busy, and, er....Busy!

This week seems to have taken on an unstoppable momentum. Firstly, Miki is preparing a series of Paintings for an International Calendar commission that she's just secured, plus we are re-mounting a new exhibition at the Eyecare centre here in Albir. A new exhibition takes a lot of time and preparation, so we're very occupied with that. I've also just met up with my friend, Norwegian singer and guitarist Jack Bostad, and we briefly discussed doing a few local shows together, which I'm really keen to do, though it will mean some rehearsals. In a week or so Miki and I travel down to Mojacar to mount a new exhibition there, too, with all the attendant planning and preparation. This weekend sees the first of 5 shows throughout Novemeber for my band BC Sweet, in Europe and the UK, so I want to set aside a little time this week to run through the set, as the first show is a big festival in Lubeck, Germany. So, no time to draw breath really! I also just want to remind everybody to check out my Halloween story; Pumpkin Number Six if you havent done so already, its a nice chilly tale for All Hallow's Eve!

Saturday, 27 October 2007

Father to Son

It's Saturday morning, less than two days since I said goodbye to my son at Alicante airport as he headed home to England. He'd been to stay for a week, The first half spent down in Mojacar (where he lived for a while a few years ago) the second half up in Albir with Miki and I.

It was a joy to see him, but not only that, a joy to see him developing as a young man, his curiosity, his politeness, his humour.
As a musician, I am naturally over the moon at his burgeoning skills on the drums, and his interest, ambition and involvement with his band, Jilambis.

He is performing well at school, after difficult times re-adjusting returning from Spain, he is set to do well in all his exams.

But perhaps just as joyful to me is the fact that he is accepted and liked by Miki.
Children from past relationships can be a difficult bridge to cross, so it means a lot to me that Miki welcomes him.

Pride is meant to be one of the seven deadly sins...well, then I'm one hell of a sinner because I'm seriously proud of him!

Mojacar Village