Attack of the Killer Celebrity Cult Clan

You know, I can dig me a good conspiracy theory as much as anyone. Get talking to me about how John F and Bobby Kennedy were shot by the Illumianti under orders from the Grand Lizard Overlords and I'll sat in rapt attention. I mean, I'll think you're completely hatstand, but I'll listen all the same.

On a similar tint, I was more than amused to read some handwritten notes dotted on Didsbury bus stops stating that Scientology was some kind of genocidal cult. Now, I don't have much time for Travolta and Cruise's personal club anyways, but it did seem a tad extreme. It slipped my mind until yesterday, while waiting for the 84 to Heaton Chapel (obscure reference, non-Manchester readers!) I noticed a new batch of bills have been stuck to the shelter - this time typed up!

I honestly didn't type this up.

I don't know if you can read the text, but it's brilliant in it's total insanity. Giving psychic powers 37,000 people is pretty impressive in itself - but then going and committing genocide against SEVEN BILLION people??! I mean - Pol Pot? Lightweight! Hitler? Amateur! Stalin? Get the fuck out of here! L. Ron Hubbard created a cult that managed to slaughter the equivalent of the ENTIRE POPULATION OF THE WORLD! Brilliant! I guess none of us noticed while that happened.

Mind you, if you want to sign up alongside Beck, you best be prepared for the long game - as our correspondent reckons once you're in, you're committed to a ten billion year contract. Personally, I'm not sure terms of such length would stand up to much scrutiny in court.

On a (slightly) more serious note, you have to be concerned by the standard of grammar in this note, and the others that have sprung up around the area. If this is the work of someone with English as a first language, then you have to wonder about standards in education.

I don't even have a printer

That said, I'm glad I'm not a religious man, if apparently Heaven is supposed to be "tardy". What is that supposed to mean? You die and get held in a queue for a millennium of two while they process your request?

There's a certain line in the sand where a conspiracy theory goes from having a certain amount of plausibility (such as, Hitler escaped from Germany and lived it up in South America... well, no body, no proof of death, right?) to being the work of someone who perhaps shouldn't be allowed to walk the streets without correct supervision. I'm assuming you can guess which category this whole gig falls into. I mean, ten out of ten for effort in actually putting this things up around the place, but it never hurts to have an extra sets of eyes to act as a proof reader.

All that said, a tiny part of me (probably the part that thinks I'll still get a game for Manchester United if I finally get into shape) thinks I should take these words to heart, and to keep an eye out for Jason Lee (the actor, not the footballer) to go on some rampage down the high street against all us on non-Hubbard believer  heathen scum. Stranger things have happened. Apparently.

Summertime in a Stadium

Point One
I hate stadium rock gigs. I hate the idea of them. Tens of thousands of people crammed into somewhere not designed for music, and therein lies the problem. Too many people, which isn't a great environment for a misanthropic miser like me.

Yet there I was, last night, in Hampden Park, Glasgow, surrounded by people, some of whom had quite clearly been on the piss all day and were refreshed to a great degree. A lot of them weren't happy with their position in the crowd and tried to force their way past others. Naturally, this created tension and security were needed on several occasions.

Point Two
All of the above becomes irrelevant when you're at a Bruce Springsteen concert, because he is The Boss and that negates any bad vibes.

Point Three
30 songs over three and a half hour is a lot of work for everyone. But the man himself states that we, as the audience, will leave with our feet and backs sore, our throats hoarse. He's not wrong.

What you find is the day after, when you weigh up the whole experience and look for negatives, is that he didn't play a few of your favourites. Where was Hungry Heart, Bruce? Where was The River and Born in the USA? He can't please everyone though, can he? What he did do was provide a strong mix of his life's work, sticking with what he'd recorded with the E Street Band (I don't recall anything from Human Touch or Lucky Town, for instance) except for two tracks from his wonderful acoustic album Nebraska - but even Atlantic City and Johnny 99 were re-imagined as rockers, the latter revved up into the kind of thing you'd expect from Jerry Lee Lewis.

There were no encores of any of that shit. The band - now including a four piece horn section, backing singers and a percussionist - come on at half seven and don't stop till eleven, when they all leave the stage so that the man we're here to see can do a "rock and roll lullaby" that is Thunder Road acoustic, with the crowd singing the sax solo at the end.

Point Four
Clarence Clemons and Danny Federici are gone, but their band leader keeps their memories living on. Clemons' nephew Jake now plays in the band, which is a cool touch and at one point, during Dancing in the Dark, Springsteen grabs a girl who had a sign saying "I want to dance with Jake" and lets her do so. In the spirit of Courtney Cox, naturally.

What this does show is that the man seems to, at least, give a fuck about us punters. You hear nightmare stories of Dylan, for example, being a surly sod all through his gigs, never playing the hits. Springsteen appears to demand of himself that he has to guarantee everyone who bought a ticket a classic night out. The man does not stop throughout. When he does Twist and Shout and you think his voice is about to give way, he steps it up for one last time and blasts out Shout. If rock and roll needed a single representative to explain it to an alien race, this is the man.

Point Five
There's a story that when Elvis Costello was asked about whether he'd ever had a religious experience, he answered that he hadn't, but he had heard Al Green sing. In the same way, Don Draper once stated that Jesus is "either lives in your heart, or he doesn't". Jesus has never lived in my heart, but when I see Bruce Springsteen do his thing, giving it all he's got like it's his last gig ever, then I think that's I'd take the Boss over JC anytime.

Break From The Idle

I've written the best part of nowt recently, and health reasons mean I'm not likely to do much for a little while yet. However, I did manage to put together a review of the Teardrop Explodes' superb second album Wilder a few weeks ago and No Ripcord have just published it.

Take a read, if you want.