It's just a simple metaphor, for a burning love...

Another picture from the Badger vaults - this time a forest fire in north east Spain in 2005. There'd been a big one in the news a few days before and apparently it's quite comon for others to break out soon after as the news coverage sends copycat arsonists into something of a frenzy.

Loose Canon

Left my camera on the tube last week, hence no posts this week. While I save up for a new camera, I thought I'd raid the Badger archives to keep the blog ticking over. This was taken in 2004 at KROK, the Russian/Ukrainian floating animation festival, which was, as I've mentioned here before, quite possibly the most extraordinary 10 days of my life. For some more recent, and completely amazing, post-communist pictures, take a look at Tomoland's shots from Moldova.

Great Danes, folky fairies and crisp winter mornings

Out last night in Hackney at Peter, Trine and Oskar's farewell do, before they head back to Copenhagen. We'll miss them for many reasons, but for me particularly because Trine is the only other person in London I know who shares my passion for tractors. Good party though; we ate bread baked with entire eggs inside, complete with shells, and drank whisky from eggcups with lions on that looked like mini-toilets. Classy people, those Danes.




A busy but mellow Hello Goodbye show this afternoon. Playing live were Emma Tricca, who looks like a folky lady Ramone and has a fantastic voice, along with Smoke Fairies, also with fabulous voices and the Crisps, who were quite splendid too. They have a song called Tring and their guitarist Walter spent their entire interview applying extra layers of clothes until he had almost disappeared. I guess that must mean winter's here.

I called her honey bee, I called her love...

I've always fancied taking up bee-keeping, and would, I think, particularly enjoy the irony of being an apiarist with diabetes mellitus. I wouldn't want to commit to an entire hive straight away though, in case I didn't take to it. So, I've been getting Shelly to dress up as a giant bee to get me used to the idea. How's it going? None of your beeswax.

Can't complain, mustn't grumble....

Recovered from the rock and roll excesses of Saturday night with Sunday lunch at the Oak, washed down with a few leisurely pints of Pale. Lucien had a whale of a time getting passed round the various laps on the table as his mum tucked into her dinner. Vast quantities of cheese were consumed, which would no doubt have horrified my dietician, who reckons the safe amount is one matchbox size piece of fromage....per week!!!! Then again, as my neighbour Beaver Bill pointed out, he didn't specify the size of the matchbox. Anyway, at least I kept away from the crumble, which I'm reliably informed was delicious.

Charing Cross Road Uber Alles

Busy day for the Badger yesterday. Cycled up to Olympia after the resonance show to see English teaching guru Jeremy Harmer talk, then got the bus to Brixton for Michael's birthday shenanigans at the Windmill, which featured an excellent set from James III. Then back in to town to spin some discs with T-Lo at the Mean Fiddler. Last time I was there it was still called the LA2 and we were onstage with Heave (supporting Salad!) in 1994. Yikes! Last night most of our DJ set coincided with a band playing downstairs, so we were mostly putting the wax on the tracks to an almost empty room. Luckily Keith, Sandra and Tommo were on hand to lend moral support and to savour the delights of the UK Subs, Dead Kennedys and Dead Boys heard on scratchy vinyl at full volume. Mind you, that didn't stop Keith berating us through the chicken wire of the DJ booth for occasionally straying from the punk rock remit.

Formidable!

Cracking sessions from improvisers Uncle Rabbit and French duo John & Jehn on the show today.