new opus straight off the press

Rejoice, for Uma o'Gil has done it again! "No Histrionics Please" is available now for only three quid, complete with badly drawn cover. 

The companion piece to "You Know Yourself 2.0", 
"No Histrionics Please" revisits the opulent center of Dublin circa 2005 and undercuts its misguided attempts at madcap satire with (largely unsuccessful) helpings of Gothic horror. 

Featuring the likes of Roy Keane, Sinead O'Connor, Eric Cantona and many others, "No Histrionics Please"is an equal opportunity offender that takes no prisoners and asks the question: what if we were -in fact- fundamentally wrong? 
"The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist." 

You'll laugh (at the bad English), you'll cry (at the amount of of minutes that you'll never get back reading it), but mostly you'll cry (with relief that this one won't stretch to 300 pages). 


Keywords: 
exile - Dublin - Ireland - Roy Keane - Sinead O'Connor - consumerism - the meaning of life - chocolate - pub culture - existentialism - your mum in flip-flops - the National Library of Ireland - diplomacy - dramatic twist - mobile phones - the LadyBoys of Bangkok - Eric Cantona - conspiracies - modern life - Gothic - the Cocteau Twins - progress - Sir Alex Ferguson - Guinness - John Peel - air travel - commercial radio - Bertie Ahern- life - death - bollix.

Please note that "No Histrionics Please" is not recommended for Guardian or Daily Mail readers. 

Daz the Investigator -He's got he's finger on the pulse!

ZZ Top concert -Daz the Investigator reports.

 

 

Hot on the heels of Elvis Costello (review pending) and tax-clever Jimmy Carr came American band ZZ Top.

 

Shiny plates, mullets, beards, tattoos a gogo, beer bellies that could feed the homeless, denim trousers and denim jackets, t-shirts of Marshall amplifiers / Rolling St*nes / The Who or Motorohead -a somewhat aged but nonetheless totally rocking populace took control of the Apollo this Tuesday night.

 

Spotted in the audience were Albert Finney, cult member Billy Duffy, good time gal Jeanette Winterson, Uma o'Gil, the entire first eleven of Manchester United (20 national titles to their name, 20), none from Manchester Citeh, computer pioneer Alan Turing (loitering by the toilets), Sir Ben Kingsley, Tim Booth out of James, Belinda from Tesco, Olympics director Danny Boyle, aufentic painter L.S. Lowry, hard rocker Neil Gallagher without estranged brother Liam, Anthony "H" Wilson, your ma in flip-flops, MP Hazel Blears, Alan Partridge.

 

The ZZs made their entrance to the sound of -I shit yous not- Underworld (smthg off their 2nd album) and off we went. Introducing the chucklesome trio: Billy Gibbons on guitar and vocals, Dusty Hill on bass and vocals and Frank Beard on a stool. (Frank Beard who -did you know?- is the only one not to wear a beard despite being called Beard ha ha ha ha!)

The band instantly set the tone with their opening number, "She's Got Me Under Pressure", quite clearly a long-overdue denunciation of the pernicious influence women exert over men in this politicly correct day and age (and "Amen to that!" adds this reviewer).

 

 Oh how we marvelled as the two guitarists, complete with comedy beards, cowboy hats and sequined (but not homosexual looking, though) dinner jackets, executed carefully rehearsed synchronised dance steps as they embarked on a greatest hits medley that married the new with the old as well as classics with modern in a satisfying smorgasbord of veritable eclectic diversity that spelled "tradition" and "modernity" in safe harmony. Surprisingly slim legs, the both of them -it certainly didn't look like they had put on the pounds like Twin Peaks' terrible enfant Sherilyn Fenn, TV funnyman Johnny Vegas or Dublin reject Boy George!

 

I was a bit disappointed that they didn't do "Living On A Prayer" but at least we got "Gimme All Your loving" and "She's Got Two Legs". They also did a cover version of celebrated drug addict Jimmy Hendrix ("Foxey Lady") so it was well good. I couldn't help feeling though, that the show could have done with a couple of strippers to enliven the proceedings. (Any show is always considerably improved by the presence of strippers.) True that, it's a big stage to fill for these two guys and Beard doesn't help them much in that instance, spending his sweet time sitting on his arse! But the 'Tops had probably anticipated this totally reasonable misgiving -This is why they had three video screens onstage, mainly showing video-clips of their best songs (you know the ones with the car and stuff).

  

Now for a well-considered remark. I felt that Frank Beard (who doesn't sport a beard, lol!) left a lot to be desired, pretty much functioning on autopilot. Was he "not with it" that night, as the youngs say? This being said, he was still more lively than the current AC/DC drummer ...who spends his gigs smoking while playing. Yes. (For the record, the coolest drummer I have ever seen has got to be the original stickman outta The late great Cramps, Nick Knox. The man did not indulge in a single gesture or facial expression that was unnecessary. And he wore leather gloves after dark.)

 

Musically, Dusty Hill is a very tight bassist, sparse, precise, laying minimalist foundations for genial frontman Gibbons to expand on with his multiple blues solos that conjured up the spirit of Rolling St*nes' famous axeman Ronnie Wood or black man LeadBerry. The song breaks and endings were millimetre-tight, the product of many an hour of demanding practice. (The champions at that are of course the lamented Fugazi, with the Chilis a close second.) This was a slick show and then some, oh yes.

 

The fun didn't last long though, as the band took a break from pleasing disco rhythm beats and went back -and I quote, "way back"- to their humble beginnings as they indulged in "blues rock" songs. I mean, "La Grange", what da? Isn't that... French??

 

To be honest, the concert mainly consisted of people going up and down the stairs to buy some beer at the bar and then up and down again to urinate in the water-closets. There was a man, about six seats to my left, who must have weighed 400 pounds and I'm not exaggerating. His idea to get a drink was to come back with four pints.

 

Controversial! During the encore "I was looking for some tush" (???), Gibbons lit up a cigarette -indoors too, remember- that may or may not have contained herbal illegal drugs marijuana. The audience naturally applauded like the criminal act tolerators that they are. They didn't get their way though when they called for the band to return for a second encore. The band did not return. (So no brilliant "Sleeping Bag" then, and no "I Need You Tonight".) Well I, for one, thought that we had heard quite enough for the ten pounds that I had paid, thank you very much. ...It was also the case that I was -like- totally bursting and fancied some nice SAUSAGES on the way back, having neglected to have me tea with all this hullaballoo. Rock 'n roll life is all very nice says I, but not when it interferes with regular meal times! 

 

Sign-off. In short, I was reminded of what Abdul told me just the other day at the Gulshan as I was hesitating over the menu: "all the girls go crazy for the sharp dressed nan". Taracheerio!


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"Need You Tonight" : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuYl2EmwOO8 Beat that, Kaiser Chiefs!

Another monster monster riff -listen to the guitar, just listen to the blipping guitar!- with a touch of the old David Gilmour methinks... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SP7wKKsQIYo

"Title TBC"

Xcr'pt from forthcoming Roy Keane / Sinead o'Connor Dub' based thrilla:



"The future was bright, and it took place in the sun. Something was about to happen, some terrible event, and in some location at some time! Well at least that was a clue. Probably very shortly, he could feel in his bones. Was it to take place tomorrow? "Focus, Roy, focus" he told him himself (but not aloud though, he wasn't a nutcase was he!). Closing his eyes, he swivelled in his swivel-chair and let his fingers rest upon the computer map. The signal guided his hand. His fingers started to followed some strange contour as if guided by a superior force, and slid in one definite direction -this must be the way. His hand finally came to a standstill. A complete standstill! This must be it, Roy reckoned. The signal faded indeed into the ether and he allowed himself a deep breath. He opened his eyes. His index pointed to the Emerald Isle! Something ominous was about to happen to his native land! Holy Mother of Christ, hadn't they suffered enough?? Roy let out a long sigh (pffffff........) then blinked and checked more thoroughly. Hey, at least it wasn't to take place in his native Socialist Republic! Oh no, the spot revealed was none other than the capital (Dublin, that will be). Dublin eh... For a second Roy entertained the mischievous thought of letting them Dubs deal with it themselves, serves them right for farting higher than their collective arses! He instantly took it back, though. Not because this would have been callous and -dare he add- ungallant of him, but because such was not his prerogative. Not for him to question the course of celestial events. On the football pitch maybe, and sometimes in the tunnel, but on the ouija-board? No chance. No way Jose, what was dictated was to be obeyed. It was as immutable as the clouds in the sky, as transcendent as an eclipse. And like the referee's decision it was final. Besides should he fancy trying to ignore his calling, he wouldn't get any sleep for sure. The Signal would come back strong as the angel of Fate was breathing hard upon him, leaving him in no doubt as to where his priorities lay. It was like when Triggs decided he needed out; the blasted beast wouldn’t take “no” for an answer. So... Dublin it was then. Something was afoot and it wasn't attached to a leg!


No-one spoke and Roy fell into a dream."


There'll be more than a touch of Victorian Gothic as well as "pulp fiction" touches + tons of musical references. Dublin will once more take centre stage...

Link

Reminder:
available at minimum price, the gift that keeps on giving and never lets go until its reader suspends his/her subscription to "Hello!" magazine:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/You-Know-Yourself-2-0-ebook/dp/B00CHO9XIW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1367757655&sr=8-1&keywords=you+know+yourself+2.0

"Kiss me, I'm Irish!"

Will also probably offer excerpts from the new work in progress that may or may not be titled "The Signal or a Pennydreadful Mystery Starring Roy Keane and Sinead O'Connor Fighting the Forces of Evil (and there are many)". Hang on to your bonnets!

Neutron Electron

Cover Me

Uma FAQs off:

FAQs:

-Uma Uma, level with us, what the Bono is "YKY2.0" about??

-I wish I knew, mate.

-Why is it dated 2008?

-Because 2008, as any Westerner who hasn't been polluted by Simon Cowell knows, is the year our casino banking-based system came to crash. "2008" should automatically ring alarm bells in everyone's mind and since the book is about the last heady days of the Celtic Tiger (it could have easily been titled "Dance On The Volcano"), it -Oops! I've already said too much! ...It's up to you to find out for yourself, I guess.

Oh, and the fact that the past is easier to apprehend, hindsight being such a wonderful thing.

-Is the Lily character based on anyone?

-No, its earliest incarnation probably was... "Frasier". I am a huge fan of "Frasier"'s and once wrote a scenario taking the character in a seriously different direction. But, for this one (i.e. "YKY2.0"), I needed someone who would be out and about town where she would deal with celebrities and rich people. Plus there was this excellent radio in Dublin ('might as well name it, it's NewsTalk) I used to listen to; they had some dead nice reporters including a couple of twin sisters. No, if anything, you could argue that there's a lot of me in Lily. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of Mme Bovary: "Emma, c'est moi."

-Is the JohnnyRay character based on Geldof?

-Ha! I see where you're coming from, what with the opening remark from his daughter... Nope. No it isn't; I don't know much about the man, it's not "about" Gavin Friday either. Hey! It's as Flaubert said of (etc.)

-You seem to like Anna Faris...

-...Yes. I love her porcelain skin, her voice drives me crazy (Winona Ryder's as well, actually), she comes across as a genuine nice girl. Butseriouslythough. I always thought that it takes special talent to "do" comedy well and it seems to me she pulls it off effortlessly. I certainly think young miss Faris is a very talented actress, yes.

-You don't seem to like the Spice Girls very much...

-No.

-Why's that, if I may ask?

-You may. Because they're shite.

-Ah. And er, oh yes, will there be a sequel to Lily's -naturally fascinating- adventures?

-'Don't know. Probably not. She wouldn't be half as funny and endearing as a mature character. Or else, I would have to resurrect her with the same characteristics and then the whole thing would/might come across as something of a repeat. I would hate to sound like a one-trick pony. But then one never knows, never say never, etc. Would (hypothetical) readers take to her and (improbably) call for her return, there could be a Dublin tourism boosting TV series in the offing, the (self-deluded) thought has crossed my mind, yes...

-Are you working on something else?

-I certainly am. Various projects, in fact. One of them is another Dublin-based comedy that may or not may not feature Roy Keane, Sinead o'Connor, Eric Cantona and Bertie Aherne. The other is simply genius ...but I can't reveal too much at this stage except it will take me a lot of work to complete.

-Tell us more oh tell us more! Gizzas a clue!

-Well well well... it may just appeal to indie rock lovers... I think they might have a chuckle or ten going through it. In any case, just like "YKY2.0", it will consist of a little game played with them, an opportunity for them to play their part and contribute. A book is a two-way street, you know. It's not an author doing all the work and an audience passively receiving the text, oh no. The author continually drops hints and leaves clues / references for the reader to pick up. We live in such a culture-saturated world, full to the brim with pointers to movies, rock songs, historical events, TV programmes, celebrities, brands, slogans etc..

-I thought that "KYK2.0" was exhausting.

-It certainly is. Modern life is exhausting. Our attention is constantly sollicited by all sorts of pressing, would-be important, flashy, noisy, strident, unwanted, irrelevant interpellations (that, more often than not, consist of one single message: "Give me your money, sucker"). I once got started on a project that detailed, without any alternative viewpoint or reassuring step back, the subjective descent into stupefied brain death of a character watching TV non-stop over the course of a day (or a weekend, whatever). I wanted to convey the manic relentless avalanche of utter crap -most of it of a commercial nature- that assaults us when we find ourselves seated in front of the telly. ...I don't spend a lot of time watching TV.

-Sounds like your project got recycled somewhere in "YKY2.0"...

-It certainly was.

-Me mate went to Dublin once and told me he didn't see no sheeps or cows grazing in the streets -So what was your riff about then??

-Your mate is right. Gondolas don't fly off into the sunset either.

-And what about the screwdriver wielding tramps patrolling the cash-points! Isn't it, like, completely disrespeckful and totally offensivistic? I've got a good mind to go and post a strongly-worded message onto a "Garudian" comments board! Where did you last witness that happening? Huh??

-Never. It's called a work of fiction, see?

-Are you telling us that "by the Bono" is a complete invention?

-Yes.

-Are you telling us that literary evenings at the National Library don't end up in riotous free-for-alls?

-Yes.

-And that tax evading businessmen don't do shady deals on the back of decent hard-working folks?

-Er... Let me get back to you on this one.

-Why are you so obsessed with Dublin? 'Can't think of a better subject?

-Well, for one thing I met some of my very best friends there; secondly, this is where I was given another stab at this "living" thing. You tend not to forget these details, you know...

-I was a bit taken aback by the confusion of genres.

-So you should be. Laugh if you will but "YKY2.0" is an ambitious project firing on as many cylinders as possible. it's a mixed bag (some would call it a dog's breakfast but hey). I consistently tried to inject humour in sad / emotional scenes ...and tragic touches in comedy scenes (so as to add complexity and depth, at least that was the intention). Remember what comedy deals with... It is in fact tragedy: it is about how we deal with hardships and defuse crisis.

-What are your feelings about Lily? You seem ambivalent...

-Oh I'm very fond of her, she's a feisty combative character. She gets knocked down and picks herself up on a regular basis, goes back on the offensive. She could have been a rich kid; instead, she went and set out to do her own thing, trying to make it on her own terms. Her character went through verious versions; at times, I accentuated the pratfall element -it's a comedy after all- at times I laid on the violins -remember that the premise was of the "chicklit" category. There had to be an element of adventure (albeit a safe, sheltered one), there had to be a political / financial dimentions (which I then spent a lot time rubbing out / toning down as I didn't want the whole thing to end up reading like a pamphlet!). Lily's excitable (which is a good thing in my book), and endearing, and naive, and an inveterate day-dreamer -a tendency that can only be exacerbated by the narcotic power of suggestion of television. Basically, she encounters life in its challenging difficulty, it's a BildungsRoman. She has to grow up, and along the way must question her own motives, her own "Mission Statement". She has to find a Modus Vivendi that won't betray her principles and naturally generous tendencies. ...Now whether she manages or not is up for the reader to decide.

-Whatever happened to her Ma?

-We don't know. I don't believe in giving all the answers. I could very well have done in a Shakespearean kind of way and sewn up the book in nice little ribbons but I chose not to. You have to leave space for readers to fill in and offer their own suggestions / conclusions. Just like with Timothy at the end, I am dropping a massive hint there, lifted straight out of "********"but I'm being a tease, I won't say more on this subject. More seriously, the question of the mother's whereabouts is an integral part of the story. Her absence creates the kind of emotional vacuum and personal fortitude that fuel Lily's efforts and antics. I won't reveal any more on that, you go and think this over!

-So, did Roy Keane let his country down or not?

-He did not. Every claim the boy Roy made at the time re. the organisation -or lack of- was subsequently validated, it's just very sad it had to kick off this way. Now I can't possibly comment on the manager situation, that's another subject altogether which I wouldn't dare pronounce upon. Bear this in mind, though: Michael Laudrup fell out with his national manager, Johan Cruyff fell out with his national manager, Gabriel Batistuta fell out with this national manager, etc. These things happen, and they're highly personal.

　

-Why, thank you Uma for these -like- penetrating remarks yeah!

-Don't mention it, Uma.