DarrenByrne.com

Thank you very much to Catherine in DublinBlog for posting about the Teachers Musical Society’s production of Little Shop of Horrors. On a whim, we decided to go see it last night, it’s opening night, in the O’Reilly Theatre at the Belvedere College.

It’s an amateur dramatics production, but the production values were very high. The set looked great and the plant was very funny without being silly, very animated and interacted well with the ‘other’ actors.

For those who don’t know, the show is about a florist in the crappy part of town and a plant that drinks blood. That’s it! Well, not quite. It has some of the strongest musical numbers from any show and great comic characters who sing out brilliant one liners such as “I know Seymour’s the greatest, But I’m dating a semi-sadist”.

Set in Mushnik’s Flower Shop, it centres upon a love story blossoming (sorry!) between the hard-done-by Seymour, raised by the slave driving Mr Mushnik, and the battered blonde Audrey, beaten up both by life and by her Nitrous-Oxide-Addicted dentist boyfriend. To save the impoverished shop, Audrey encourages Seymour to show Mushnik his “strange and interesting new plant”. The plant, the Audrey Too, immediately begins attracting customers and profits begin to soar. The problem for Seymour is he is finding it hard to feed his rapidly growing genus-horribilis, as all it wants is blood, his blood. So, faced with losing his job and losing “Audrey one”, he finds other ways to feed the plant.

From the opening number, we are treated to some great R’n’B numbers, sung well by four members of the Teachers’ Musical Society, but it is only when Denise King (Audrey) sings that we hear some truly great voices. For me she steals the show. With the beautiful love duet Suddenly Seymour, Tom Flanagan (Seymour) matched her voice to send a shiver up my arm. Shay Byrne (not my father) voices the plant and apart from a few lip-synch (or is it tendril-synch?) issues, he is very good.

The show differs significantly to the movie I grew up with (the movie with Ellen Green and Rick Moranis), but this just lead to some pleasant surprises both in the storyline and the songs. The huge closing number is fantastic and a credit to all involved in the production. Well done and thank you for a great night out.

Little Shop of Horrors runs from now until Saturday 12th April. Tickets are available through TicketOffice.ie. As far as I’m aware, if you show up tonight there will still be tickets available, but you can call 087 7866864 to confirm.

Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I’d biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.

Poignant words and words to make us truly think about ourselves, our lives and our futures. Eh, yeah!

I’m afraid that’s the best I can do with regards weighty opening of a post that asks, what would you do if you won the Lotto?

Firstly, we’ll clear up the amount. You didn’t win the 14 point whatever million from a few weeks back. You’ve won a more modest €3million. How do you react? Do you go into work the next day? Do you ring all your friends and head down to the local pub for the night? Do you tell no one?

I think my first reaction would be to break out the champagne (admittedly the only champagne we have in the apartment is a bottle of Russian plonk that’s been sitting on the rack for about two years). After vomiting up the dodgy bubbly, I’d leg it down to SuperValu to stock up on the good stuff. I think I’d keep it between Lottie and myself at first. Then after a few days maybe let friends and family know we had won a smaller amount. Is that wrong? It sounds a bit miserly lying to avoid having to be Mr and Mrs Generosity. Hmmm!

We’d drink to our success for a few nights (calling in sick to work, perhaps due to the dodgy bubbly), before letting the cat out of the bag (ok, I know we shouldn’t be keeping Amy in a bag, but we’re rich now and can get away with it). We’d definitely share the wealth (not all of it mind). We have, between us, a large family who could all do with a few extra bob.

Lottie likes the idea of buying a plot of land, designing a house and then fecking off for a year while it’s built. Yeah, that’d be fun, but I’m not sure I’d want to leave Ireland and my friends at a time when I could afford to enjoy the country and spend time doing all the things on my wish list. I’d definitely build a house though. That’s a long term dream of mine.

Of course, one of the very first thing’s I’d do is buy the iPhone. Not really sure about any other initial purchases though. Any ideas?

A big congratulations to The Minutes, who, last night, picked up the Vodafone Bright New Sounds Award.

Let me first say that I make no apologies if this post seems like an indie band love fest. The five acts were all superb – they each justified their position in the top five of the initial 20.

My evening started off with a tour of the venue, Tripod on Harcourt Street, while the band, Chaplin, were in the midst of their sound check. Listening as they performed, it was clear that this would be a good night.

At the bar backstage, two hours before kick-off, I enjoyed pizza and a beer with the lads from Starturtle. If there was an award for nicest band of the night, these guys win hands down. Matt, Jonathan and Daragh are great guys. They each have a passion for the music but have their feet firmly stuck to the ground. That said, Jonathan, a teacher in Ballyfermot, looks more rock and roll than chalk and blackboard. And Daragh is no stranger to the classroom either – being that he is probably studying with his classmates as this post is published.

I spent much of my evening chatting with Phil of Norn Iron Music, the manager of Superfreakz. He’s a guy who loves the music and is behind his band completely. It was refreshing to see someone so fervently promoting something he believed in, without sounding like a pushy fool. I think Phil may have felt the disappointment of not winning, far more than than the band themselves.

The show kicked off at 9 o’clock with a three song set from Chaplin and they did not disappoint. The harmonies captured the small crowd’s attention immediately and their drum beats pumped the adrenalin of each and every one of us. Between acts, there was plenty of time to meet and chat with the bands while PJ Gallagher, the one true disappointment of the night, fell through his MC job on stage. He really seemed to be phoning it in.

Sitting with Chaplin after their performance, the lads were buzzing. For a band who say they rarely play Dublin and actually rarely get out of Wexford, these guys were serious professionals. They had the biggest equipment set up of the night, but the size of your equipment isn’t what matters – it’s what you do with it that counts and these guys delivered.

79Cortinaz were a different band entirely. While I didn’t get chatting with the band for long, their music speaks for itself. Picking up where the indie scene of the early nineties left off, the music is funky and energetic. While I could hear a lot of influences from bands past, 79Cortinaz sound was still very fresh.

Phil and I decided to inject a bit of life into the increasingly stoic crowd by cheering on The Minutes upfront, but we were just left looking like a couple of spares. The band, however, could have been playing to a packed Croke Park for the pace and energy they injected into their performance. While they weren’t my choice to win, they certainly deserved the award. Their sound is very ‘now’ and will sell well. I feel The Minutes will hit it big this year.

Up until I heard Superfreakz perform, I had pegged Chaplin as the winners, but Superfreakz got one of the best reactions of the night (maybe they had a lot of friends in the crowd?), and I really thought they were in with a chance of winning. I’m looking forward to hearing a full set from these lads soon.

The last band up were the lovely guys from Starturtle. As the lead singer said, he tries to go for the mysterious brooding look, but after about 8 seconds it falls away as he enjoys himself too much. And it’s clear they do enjoy themselves on stage. I mean this in a good way – their music was a hark back to eighties rock. I wanted to punch the air and rock out. Great sound and I hope to hear them again in a few weeks time.

While Jim Carroll may have had some good points to make about the organisation of the event and the motives behind it, the organisation on the night was flawless. Every one of the bands were happy with how things were run and all said how positive an experience it was for them. It raised their profile, it gave them some great experience and it was great to play at a large venue and event. Personally, I think Vodafone did a great job on this one. I hope they learn from mistakes and aren’t afraid to run another Bright New Sounds next year.

I am not going to offer up my opinions on the whole Bertie thing, basically because I don’t have any. I’m one of the many Irish people who doesn’t really care about politics and I am one of the many that the Politico Critico blame for voting FF back in. Across the last 24 little hours I have glanced over the barrage of Bertie-posts online, only stopping when I saw a funny picture of Bertie photoshopped onto one of his daughter’s books, etc.

However, I did come across one post that summed up what I would be thinking if I was to be thinking about thinking about Bertie. I think! Turlough, via Daragh’s blog, offered his impassioned view of the resignation. I’m not sure he would like someone of my apathetic standing agreeing with him, but that’s just tough.

Bertie is just a man, just one man. His departure will not change a thing. Government will still continue, the economy will still drift, the health care system will still be in need of vital surgery. Can we all stop dwelling on the man and do something about the things that matter?

I guess this is in addition to my ambassadorial post on Monday.

Doctor Who rocks and the new series begins on BBC One, Saturday evening at 6.20.

I’m a fan of Jack L. I’m a huge fan. I’m an addict for his music. I was introduced to his very unique sound by my girlfriend about nine years ago, and while my tastes in music have varied and changed over the last decade, I can’t help but still call Jack L my favourite artist.

His early offerings are translated versions of the work of Jacques Brel, the French musician, poet, actor, artiste and madman. One of Jack’s strongest hits is his take on Brel’s Jacky.

While Jack’s later albums have veered away from Brel somewhat, there’s still an unmistakable thread running through his work which lets us know that his inspiration comes from Brel, Scott Walker, Nick Cave, Tom Waits.

Jack Lukeman is a Kildare man who began his working career as a mechanic before heading off to Germany with where he hooked up with The Black Romantics. After releasing his first album, Wax, with them, he went solo to make the incredible Metropolis Blue, the album which made his name. Blue includes tracks such as the seminal Georgie Boy, Ode to Ed Wood (see video), Bedsprings and Rooftop Lullaby.

For the past seven years, whenever he’s played in Dublin, we’ve immediately bought tickets. When he did his Chez Jack L show in Spirit/HQ on we went no less than 6 times. Earlier this year, he played a show in the National Concert Hall and two weeks ago he was in Vicar Street. I’ve yet to be disappointed by one of his shows. His voice is haunting, from the deep and frightening baritones to the sweet angelic falsettoes, he’s a master of his craft.

One of my favourite songs of all time is Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. I’m not actually a fan of Cohen’s version. I enjoy Jeff Buckley’s. I love Rufus Wainright’s version. And Jack’s version is truly brilliant……

Jack L’s Website: http://www.jacklukeman.com/

Myspace: http://www.myspace.com/jacklukeman

Wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Lukeman

Following on from Mulley’s post and Anthony’s follow up, I wondered what I am an ambassador for. I’m not sure if I’d call it being an ambassador but I certainly rant about much of the following:

Musicals

Too many guys today are afraid to either admit to enjoying musicals, or afraid to let themselves like musicals. I’m not! I love them and have done so for many many years. A love of musicals is one of the first things my girlfriend and I had in common. Probably the earliest musical I fell in love with was, rather unusually, Little Shop of Horrors. I think I empathised with the beleaguered Seymour desperately hoping for a way to get out of Skid Row……or maybe I just loved the songs. From Rocky Horror to Jesus Christ Superstar, from Blood Brothers to Rent, no other medium can constantly give me shivers of joy as much as when I fall into the worlds created by songs and good storytelling. But am I an ambassador for Musicals? I think so. I’m an ambassador for being proud of enjoying them. I try to introduce people to shows with varying successes.

Movies

I had a brief twitter with Mulley a few nights ago about Grosse Pointe Blank. Whenever someone asks me my favourite movie, I always try to break it down, wondering what’s the most cinematic, most uplifting, most technically impressive, most thought provoking. But if I’m truly honest, my favourite movie must be Grosse Pointe Blank. I laugh out loud everytime I watch it. I love the world and the characters that inhabit it. The music is fantastic and the dialogue is brilliantly witty. Everyone should see this movie, John Cusack’s Best, and while it won’t be to everyone’s taste, I can’t imagine anyone walking away from it saying they didn’t enjoy it.

Music

When we first moved to Dublin, 7½ years ago, we went out a lot. For some reason we always had a lot of disposable money (possibly due to the cheap hole we were living in). Whenever possible, we would go to gigs and we would make special efforts to see Jack L and Juliet Turner. Jack’s voice should be declared a national treasure and Turner’s quirky sense of humour added so much to the already astounding music at her concerts. Over the years we have converted a good few people to fans of the pair. At one of Juliet Turner’s gigs about five years ago, an odd act, called Duke Special, was her support. His stage presense and eclectic tunes made us immediate fans. While we shouted his praise for years, it’s bittersweet to see him have so much success now. It’s hard not being part of a group of devoted fans, when the group is in the hundreds of thousands. That said, I’m delighted for him and his band – they deserve every bit of success the get. (I’m putting together a post on Jack L which will be up later or tomorrow)

People

There’s a group of people which I would like to consider myself an ambassador for and that is the bullied, especially kids. No child (and no person) deserves to be victimised and abused. It’s a subject that is close to my heart and while I would be an ambassador, a megaphone for the persecuted, I have not yet found my voice. But I will.

Places

We moved to Greystones almost three years ago and immediately fell in love with the town. It’s more a home to me than anywhere else I’ve lived. And I am happy to rave about the place. It’s beatiful and quiet, but within easy reach of Dublin; it has great community spirit, as illustrated by Gingerpixel; it can grow outwards without losing any of its inner charm. That last point may be argued by some of the older residents, and while I can understan their viewpoint, the growth of Greystones own subburbs can only bring more amenities and oportunities to the town. Without growth comes stagnation. The people, for the most part, are very friendly, something which I have struggled to find elsewhere along Ireland’s east coast. It’s a great town and I would invite people to visit, to stay a while, to move here – they won’t be disappointed.

Vodafone’s Bright New Sounds gig is on Thursday night. As Jim Carroll points out, Vodafone’s New Sounds website doesn’t make it very clear what the Bright New Sounds promotion is for exactly, but the less cynical among us can infer that it’s to encourage new, young acts and to give a footing to bands who would otherwise struggle to be heard in the mainstream.

Bright New Sounds was launched at the start of February and was open to acts of all genres. Interested acts had to upload their tracks to www.brightnewsounds.ie, where the best 20 submissions, as decided by a panel, were made available for Irish Vodafone customers to download. The top five most downloaded acts would then be invited to perform in Dublin’s Tripod April 3, where one will be declared Vodafone’s Bright New Sound of 2008.

The winning act will get a prize package from Vodafone and Universal Music. They’ll record their new single in Windmill Lane, which will then be released as part of their recording deal with Universal Music, they will receive a professional photo shoot and launch gig with supporting promotional activity – including extensive coverage in the pages of Hot Press.

Now, it’s clear from Jim Carroll’s post that this is not all it’s cracked up to be, but from a layman’s p.o.v., I’m just looking forward to hearing the acts on Thursday. Having already listened to many of the tracks, including Chaplin’s The Story Goes, Christine Deady’s Don’t Rescue Me and The Kinetiks’ Shuffle Your Feet, it should be a good show.

Even if the Vodafone event is nothing more than an overblown marketing stunt, anything that raises the profile of some overlooked acts must be a good thing. Viva la Indie Music!

[youtube:http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=WJm9tLsRLXw]

Update: The five finalists have been announced!

Ben,

You have ruined my afternoon. Your post on the FiveSecondMovies on YouTube forced me to go watch all of them. Damn you!

Here’s my favourite:

On my ramblings through Bebo last year, I met, through an online friend, this excellent artist. For Emlyn B, his art is a hobby, but I see no reason why we can’t shout out our pride for our hobbies, just as much as for our paid-for achievements. Emlyn describes himself as follows:

Artist, photographer, writer, short filmmaker, animator, lycanthrope, professional snake charmer and occasional cabaret act (but only on bank holidays). Trying to figure out my role in this crazy life, but watch this space for my own skins, artwork, photos and other cool stuff (i hope!)

From humble origins, drawing owls under the instruction of Don Conroy on the telly, he obviously took to art and drawing and has found a fascinating, often gothic, style.

If you feel so inclined, have a look at his Bebo site and please drop a comment before adding him.

His focus on eyes in some of his work particularly intrigues me. There’s so much emotion in the large glassy eyes.

But, it seems his passion lies in the obscure, the gothic and the fantastical.

So, check him out.

I love my photoshopped self!

Alice tagged Grannymar and she, in turn, tagged me. The task: write your memoir in six words. I remember reading that Hemmingway was challenged to write a story in six words. He wrote something painfully thought provoking: “For sale: baby shoes. Never worn.”

Now, I can’t hope to write something to make people think. So, I’m just going to go with honesty:

Sixteen years, no fun! Everything changed!

My turn to do the tagging: Anthony, Ben, Daragh, Laura, Ken and Ross, do you want to give it a go?

The rules:

• Write your own six word memoir.
• Post it on your blog, including a visual illustration if you’d like.
• Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to the original post if possible so that it can be tracked as it travels across the blogosphere.
• Tag at least five more blogs with links;
• and Leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

Update: Just found this. Worth a read!

I finished work today, went through my usually OCD infused routine. I placed my mouse in it’s holder, I put away all my pens and stapler in their drawer, I made sure my four inboxes were neat and uniform, I adjusted and switched off my monitor (Power of One and all that jazz), I put on my coat and set up my iPod. Today’s playlist consisted of Ken and Ross‘s Podcast 46, which I missed last week. So I finally leave my office and happily wander along listening to the lads manic conversations and excellent music choices.

After a while I find myself grinning stupidly and getting odd looks, as the lads give a big shout out to me and my ‘fledgling bloggery’. So, thank you both for making me that weirdo people see laughing out loud as he wanders along the street.

Ken, you may be right about me podcasting – I’ll definitely give it a go at some stage. Although, I sincerely hope I get an invite down for Podcast#50!!!

The 46th Podcast, in the meantime, featured

• Saints Of Descent – ‘One Word’
• Brigantia – ‘Ride To The Sabbath’
• Acrojunk – ‘Man Or Machine’
• The Lions Mane – ‘The Dragons Breath’

There was also some cryptic reference to DeviousTheatre‘s two new productions. Ken and Ross are clever guys. They pretend to stumble and fall there way through talking about the auditions for Trainspotting in June and another project in August, but it just forces us listeners to check out DeviousTheatre‘s website for more info. You kooky guys! Marketing at its best.

And I think it’s important to back up Ross on this one – the local newspapers are stealing his work. Check out Ross’s photography at Oss237.com, just “don’t steal his shit“. If you want to support his artistic reputation, drop a comment on his blog post.

I’m already looking forward to listening to Podcast #47, which can be subscribed to on iTunes here or on the Kilkenny Music Website. Give it a go. It’s a lot of fun and there’s some great music.

I was asked by a female friend recently, who is considering adoption, whether I am missing a connection, whether I view my mother as my ‘mother’ or simply someone who raised me. It’s a simple answer for me, and one I think (I hope) most adopted children find easy to answer.

My mother will always be my mother. She’s the one who fed me, clothed me, housed me, laughed with me, fought with me; she is the one who watched The Late Late Toy Show with me each year. It’s easy. I am very happy and proud and excited that I have met my biological mother – but not because I feel there’s been ‘something missing’, not because I needed the connection, or closure, or questions answered. It’s because Biomammy is one of the most loving people I’ve ever met. She has raised four beautiful, clever, funny children. She has a husband who is a gentleman, who has welcomed me into his house like one of his own.

I have been very lucky when it comes to the ‘adoption thing’. My parents always made sure that I could ask any questions I wanted about it. In fact, I cannot remember not knowing about being adopted. As I was growing up, I knew a number of other adopted children. So I never felt I was odd for that (I was always an oddball, but I never felt it was because I was adopted). No, there was nothing missing in me, no need to connect a missing link.

I want this friend of mine to know that she would be giving a very loving home to someone who wants it, who needs and yearns for it. That child, whoever it may be, already loves you. How could it not? You would not be a parent by accident. You, more than most, will be making the decision to give a child a home, a life. The genetic connection is overrated. Love is far stronger than biology.

I said I would return to write a post about St. Patrick’s weekend and, true to my words, I present:

Well, I’ve had quite the weekend. Full of old friends and nostalgia, newer friends and dramas. There were fights and resolutions, there was poetry from an unlikely source and some music to play Scrabble by. I discovered things about myself and my life, but more significantly I uncovered some truths about those around me. I can’t say it was standard weekend, but then again Saint Patrick’s long weekend is not standard.

Friday

Much of Friday’s evening is tough to tell a tale about. There were a number of differing events and interactions that were initially negative but on a worldly scale, perhaps a little positive. I’m sorry if this sounds somewhat cryptic, but I think I’ve encountered my first post to require censorship. While I would only write the truth, the truth can hurt and other peoples’ perception of the truth may differ slightly from mine. Therefore, I’ll stay schtum, except to say…I wouldn’t change a thing.

The remainder of this post will not require a degree in cryptology, I promise. Friday night’s official event was an old friend’s birthday party. I’ll call him the Musicman as he was the first person I ever met who instilled in me a true appreciation for music and for making music. Indeed, we had a band in school and wrote songs together. I am forever thankful for meeting this guy. I have covered much of this night in a previous post, so the only thing I’ll add is this…Musicman, why did you abandon the music? Musicman is now a successful scientist (I could go into detail about his career, but I’d just be confusing me and the readers) and will undoubtedly make a name for himself and, most importantly, a fortune in his field. I guess I just envisioned a day when we would both abandon our respective career paths and finally finish that musical we started. It’s a nice dream, so let me dream it.

Saturday

What? No hangover? Fantastic!

I awoke at a reasonable hour and pottered about while The Otter Half studied. Our new bikes are still glaring at us angrily because we have yet to take them outside. We toyed with the idea for a while but then Hugh Laurie had a better idea. We nestled into the couch for some time, watching House MD.

As evening fell, my Otter Half drove me down to the badlands (Wicklow Town) to meet my father for a drink, while she skirted the outskirts of the town in Ashford, to spend the evening with her Grandmother. My dad and I hit The Old Forge, my once-upon-a-time-local-pub, and embraced the thing that God granted all good men – Guinness.

I will admit that there was much imbibing done, but late into the evening the conversation became philosophical, as such Guinness fueled, father-son, once-upon-a-time-local-pub conversations often do. We discussed our lives – our respective pasts, presents and futures. His past was not as rosy as mine (and I thank him and Mother for ensuring this). His present is a hive of confusion, hardship, a hope that his crises are mid-life and not end-life crises. And, depressingly, his future doesn’t seem to feature in his thoughts.

So, in the midst of his sharing old stories with me, he began to recite in an ancient Seanchai lilt a story about youth and friendship and a night out with the lads in nineteen hundred and something something. When he finished his poetic verse, I asked him where he learned it, where he heard it, who wrote it, who first said it. And he replied, “ah, my man, that’s just your father”. He shocked me. I was all set to hear more from this poet…except it was my father, a man who has more in common with Homer Simpson than Yeats. Unsure of how to feel or what to say, we moved on and had another pint, but it’s a moment I won’t forget and it’s a moment I’ll return to.

Sunday

St. Patrick’s Day didn’t really feature in our home. I can’t say I’m much of a fan of the parades and brouhaha anyway, but we did have an enjoyable day. After another few discs of House on DVD, we popped down the town to see what all the drum banging and bagpipery was all about. Apparently we had just missed the procession. Oh damn, what a shame, he said as sarcasm smoke billowed up from the sarcasm fire lit beneath his words.

There’s a new ‘EcoShop‘ open in the centre beneath our apartment. An EcoShop is a shop that cashes in on the gullibility of the economic environment that surrounds it. What? That’s not an EcoShop? Oh, my mistake! Apparently it’s a shop that sells ecologically sound produce.

Well, they suckered me in. I bought a can of cola made from fruit juices (surprisingly delicious), some fair trade honey from Jamaica (so smooth and flavoursome, I doubt I’ll ever return to that homemade Boyne Valley crap again), Green and Black’s version of Nutella (I fail to see the earth-saving relevance of this product, but it tastes great on a bagel) and some cocoa (which I have yet to sample). The whole thing is very overpriced but it’ll undoubtedly be a roaring success. This once niche market fits nicely with the keep-up-with-the-Jones nature and attitudes of Greystones.

We concluded our evening with a few games of Scrabble, some music and a nice few drinks. The perfect relaxing end to my weekend.