Tubular Bells

The main aspect of my work these days involves recording television and radio programmes, editing out the end/start of the previous/next programme and burning it to DVD ready to be catalogued and added to library stock. It means I get to go through the Radio Times to choose anything of interest that can be recorded. And that means things that are of interest to me even when it might not really be the library's kind of thing. A case in point was last month when I noticed BBC4 were showing a live performance of Mike Oldfield's Tubular Bells from 1974.

Just as Star Wars was the seminal film of my childhood, so Tubular Bells became the album I listened to repeatedly in my early years. The main reason for this was that it was pretty much the only cassette my dad had in his car, so any journey seemed to pick up wherever in the 50 minutes' worth of proceedings he'd got to last time the car's engine was switched off. My dad clearly loved Tubular Bells, to the extent that he had faithfully re-rendered the album cover for his bootleg copy (recorded from an uncle's vinyl) using a mixture of ink, felt-tipped pens and coloured pencils. Despite me having bought him the album on CD years ago I'm sure the old cassette is still hanging around somewhere...

Tubular Bells was the first recording released by Richard Branson's Virgin label back in 1973. The record reached the number 1 spot after a year and remained in the British charts for over five, selling more than 2 million copies over here. In the years since there have been all kinds of trippy remixes and revisions but, as far as I'm concerned, the original 1973 recording is the only recording worth bothering with.

The live TV studio recording from 1974 is a fairly low-key affair: there's no introduction, Oldfield is resolutely nonchalant throughout and, towards the end, the 'Master of Ceremonies' (the late Vivian Stanshall) is missing. But watching it at work, as the tinkling opening theme - famously used in The Exorcist - got going, the camera slowly panning around a handful of musicians, then zooming in on a cross-legged Oldfield picking gently on an electric guitar, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. It had been many years since I last listened to the piece, and as I did, I was taken back to a more innocent time: as a primary school child, not yet having bought his first record, sat in the passenger seat of my dad's Cortina as we drove through warm summer evening Sussex countryside. Bliss!

date w/ IKEA

Today has been an IKEA kind of day. The kind of day where you drive there early in the vain hope that nobody else has had the same idea, spend a few hours buying things you didn't know you needed plus the couple of flatpacks you actually do need, struggle to get them in the car, struggle to get them in your house. And then you spend the whole afternoon and evening figuring out how to put all the pieces together.

In my case, things are complicated by forgetting to take flatpack box 2 of 2 and having to go back for it after going through the checkout. And most people don't have to dis-assemble their chest of drawers when they've completed it because all the cross-pieces are the wrong way round...

That was my Sunday.

stable

Last week M and me spent a few days in a converted stable at a farm in the Monmouthshire countryside. The original plan had been to get away from things for a short while - what with it being the bleakest time of the year. And for a while back there it seemed as though we'd got away from everything: as we drove through blizzards and deserted country roads, everywhere covered white, it felt as though we were the only people left in Wales...

On our way up the snow was so thick that we had to abandon the car a mile from the farm and be picked up by the owners in their 4-wheel drive. The stressful journey proved worth it, however, as we were treated to a luxurious oak-beamed cottage with views of the countryside and a roll top bath in the upstairs open-plan bedroom. Even if we hadn't been snowbound it would have been the kind of place you'd be happy to spend your time stuck indoors... so that's pretty much what we did. After more snowfall the following morning the sun emerged and we ventured out for a short walk and a bit of snowball-throwing. But for most of the time it was definitely preferential to stay curled up in the warm, indoors...

poisoned

I'm [almost] back from the brink after a bout of food poisoning last Thursday. I reheated some chilli in the evening and ignorantly used a generous dollop of creme fraiche on top that I found lurking at the back of the fridge. Unfortunately for me it was on the turn. Or had already turned more like. I'll spare the details but safe to say I've never felt so ill in my life. Never slept so much either - after an uncomfortable night the following day largely passed between episodes of unconsciousness. Just a shame I missed all the snow action (work was closed due to the weather too). My stomach is still not really back in the real world but fingers crossed a bit of bio yoghurt and some plain cooking will sort that side of things out...