Could The Hazzards Be Hazardous To My Health?

Friday 18th July: Have you noticed the increasing use, in TV shows, of starting by showing the viewers what is happening "now" and then showing what led up to now, before showing the resolution?

It's about 01:30 on Saturday morning and I'm sheltering outside a hairdressers shop just at the edge of York's city centre. It's raining so hard that the rain is bouncing back up off the roads and pavements. Lightning lights up the sky at frequent intervals, always followed by ominous rumbles of thunder. To paraphrase Del Amitri, pretty much every car I see is a cab. I'm about four miles from home. I have my bike with me and I'm dressed in jeans, with just a baseball cap to keep the rain off my head...

About thirty-six hours earlier I had felt the usual slight tingle of excitement as Roj's weekly "what's on" email dropped into my in-box. A quick scan brought the first disappointment - with Roj otherwise engaged on Saturday, it was unlikely that anybody would be going to the Roman Bath to see Freeway. Oh well, what's happening on Friday? Hmmm, most of the usual haunts had covers bands on. I'd been out two weeks running so maybe I'd give this week a miss.

A couple of hours later, a check of The Duchess's website reveals that the independent tribunal had ruled in their favour over Barfly's objections to them opening, so all systems are now GO for York's newest venue. Well done, Tim and Michelle. Unfortunately, that doesn't really change anything as nothing was booked for Friday evening. Still looks as though I'm stopping in this week. Anyway, I send an email round the gang advising them of the result.

Arriving at work on Friday morning I find replies to said email from Roj and our seldom-seen Strensall contingent, asking who is interested in a few upcoming gigs at The Duchess. I plump for three - it looks as though I'll be seeing the new venue soon, even if I'm not venturing out this weekend.

Lunchtime and a quick chat with another gig-going colleague reveals that a) he wasn't aware of The Duchess's news (I feel a bit important, having to relay it once again) and b) there is a rumour that Hazzard County are playing the Old White Swan this evening. Hang on, I quite like them (or, at least, versions of them). This could be an opportunity to see another band live after seeing their farewell "tour". The first was Status Quo, in case you are interested. I send another email and the group's plan changes from "Head to Roman Bath to see how good the covers band is" to "Head to Old White Swan to see if the Hazzards are playing, if not head to Roman Bath." You get the picture.

Wanting to take away some of the uncertainty, I decide to ring the White Swan to see if they can tell me who is playing there tonight. They can and do and it is confirmed that the Hazzards are back (despite other listings stating that one of their number is playing a different venue on the same night...) My mind is made up - given that the plan is to see the Hazzards, I'll turn up. After all, I definitely won't be out next week. Probably...

Nine o'clock and I'm the first to arrive at the Swan. The weather didn't look threatening, so I've cycled in. After all, the bus fare is the price of a pint. Speaking of which, the Swan now has a larger choice of real ales. I decide to try a pint of Hazey Days, a pale-coloured, summery, wheat beer. It's very drinkable and I stay with it all night. (The drink not the same pint...)

The Hazzards now play in a different, smaller bar and the crowd was a bit smaller than when they used to play the pub before. It was quite a warm night, so the doors were open, meaning that people wandered in to see what was going on, but they didn't seem to generate the same sized core audience. We were joined by Elena, a Russian (who was a frequent Hazzard-goer in the old location), and her Norwegian friend (over here on holiday with his family). What an international bunch we are.

As to the gig, I'd like to say that it was like finding a favourite old jumper at the bottom of a drawer just as the cold weather starts. I expected to be wrapped in the "comfort" of a band who always played well and were always enjoyable. Unfortunately, that jumper has gone slightly baggy over time and doesn't quite fit anymore. It's not that they were bad. If they were we would have moved on. It's just that this cut-down version (Simon, John and Dave switching between lead guitar, rhythm guitar and (singular) drum and the bass-player (I didn't catch his name) standing in the background), played without some of the toe-tapping, foot-stomping gusto that I was used to. They were good, just not as good as they had been. The set was mostly new stuff to me - rock/country hybrids mainly, with a bit of bluegrass - and it was nice to hear unfamiliar songs. Hopefully, the previous high standards will be back soon.

Anyway, we stayed to the end. Longer, in fact, as we chatted long after the band had finished. As we left the pub, I realised that the non-threatening weather had been a con, lulling me into a false sense of security and that my fare-saving, fitness-inducing bike-ride into town may have been a mistake. I said goodbye to the rest of the group and headed for where I had left my bike...

Now. The rains seems to be easing up a bit. Common sense tells me that waiting for it to stop completely is a waste of time. I decide to take the plunge (almost literally). So I start the twenty-minute journey home. It's still pouring down and very soon my jeans are wet and heavy, my baseball cap and socks are soaked through and my jacket is threatening to start leaking. I arrive home just before two o'clock and shed various bits of wet clothing in the kitchen, leaving them in the sink and on the draining board. Making my way to bed, I wonder whether I'll wake up with the 'flu. If I do, it will be the Hazzard's fault. If they weren't playing I would have stopped at home.

Epilogue - it's seven-thirty on Saturday morning. I have been in bed just five and a half hours when Debbie wakes me up to ask why there is a wet pair of socks and a towel on the bathroom floor...

Notes on (a) Scandal

Friday 11th July: Tonight was the second gig to be staged at York's newest venue, The Duchess. I had missed the first, last Friday, because it clashed with my wife's birthday and missed this one because a) I'm not that keen on Shed Seven and b) enough people are for the gig to be sold out very quickly. The Duchess's legal battle with Barfly comes to a head next Thursday when an independent panel will decide whether the former can indeed open. Hopefully, the result will be that the second gig won't be the last.

Anyway, enough of where we weren't...

I find myself in the company of my musical-literate companion, in the Roman Bath, to see a band called Scandal, who we knew little about, bar the fact that they were a blues covers band. It turns out that they have been around for years, starting out playing their own stuff but, when the keyboard player left, started doing covers to keep the band going. They now perform as a four-piece (vocals and rythm guitar, lead guitar, bass and drums) and mostly play pubs. Indeed they have played the Bath before (just not during nights that coincided with our visits...)

It turns out their covers lean more towards the rock side of blues. Tonight's set contained few songs that I recognised but those that I did came from ZZ Top, Cream, Lynyrd Skynyrd and Gary Moore. OK, I didn't actually recognise the songs by Moore, but one (Cold Day in Hell) sounded familiar and a quick internet search revealed it to be one of his. I'm not too worried by the lack of recognition, though - apparently most of the songs were new to Roj as well. All of them were played well and, if I had been able to get hold of a set list, would probably have led to me adding more artistes to my already large list of CDs to purchase.

Ian Mann's vocals were, for the most part, strong and suited the style of song being performed. Jamie Reynolds, on lead guitar, was excellent if a little lacking in some of the "twiddly" bits in the original versions of some of the songs. Ady Ingleby had his bass turned up just a little too high for my tastes, there were times when it was making bits of my insides jump about. That just leaves Alan Hopwood on drums and he was as good as the rest of them.

Strangely for a band with no CDs to sell, they seemed to have their own marketing department. A woman, presumably a relative of one of the band, was walking around handing out slips of paper with the band's website printed on and then taking photos of various audience members. It turns out that the gallery section of the website focuses mainly on the audience, rather than the band. Keep an eye on it as we were snapped...

The final (encore) song was Lynyrd Skynyrd's Freebird. It's a cliche, but it really is one of my all-time favourite tracks and I have never before seen anybody play it live. While it wasn't the full sixteen minute live version that I own and while it was, again, missing some of the more complicated bits, it was a more than passable version of a classic song. A good way to end a very good performance and it made me glad that I'd braved the weather to go into town on my bike and, therefore, didn't have to rush for bus before the set ended.

Tales of Two Cities

Tuesday 8th July: A few years ago, at about the time that Amazon was becoming popular and before I discovered Locus (the magazine of the science fiction and fantasy field), I was sent to Los Angeles on a course. I say "sent" but I had the choice of L.A. in September or London in November and was told to do a cost comparison - strangely, L.A. came up cheaper... But I digress.

While I was there, I wandered into the local Borders (unheard of in York at that point) to see whether I could find some U.S.-published science fiction that hadn't found its way across the Atlantic or, at least, out of the speciality bookshops found in larger cities. Eventually I bought enough books to warrant buying another bag to bring them home in. I've still got some to read but recently finished two of them.

City of Diamond (Jane Emerson, 1996)

Reading City of Diamond, I couldn't help but think that it would work equally well as a fantasy, rather than the science fiction it has been written as. The titular city is one of three gifted to humanity by a dying alien race in order for them to spread the aliens' Truth across the galaxy. In effect, they are huge spaceships. However, for the whole of this novel, diamond stays in one place so, apart from having to take shuttles off to the station and planet it is orbiting, there is little to distinguish it from a planet-bound city. The story starts with the death of the current Protector of Diamond and takes his successor through a political marriage and its associated spies from rival city Opal, while his (half alien) aide and his own band of "acquaintances" search for a mysterious person called Belleraphon. The cover blurb also mentions the search for religious artifact the Sawyer Crown, but it is only about on hundred pages from the end of the book that this plot picks up pace.

It was because of that fact that I began to worry that what I thought was a standalone novel was actually the beginning of a series. Indeed, there seems to be so much back-story that is hinted at rather than explained that, at one point, I even wondered whether I had started reading mid-series. A bit of research showed me that Emerson is actually a pen-name of Doris Egan, who has written three other books and been involved in many T.V. shows under her real name. City of Diamond was meant to be the first part of a trilogy but bad health and memory problems have prevented the rest being written. The first chapter of book two was published on her web-site back in 1998, but nothing since. Despite her working on T.V. shows since then.

Disappointing, really, City of Diamond is a good read - the plots moves along at a good pace, the characters are likable (those that are meant to be liked - others you just can't wait to see get their comeuppance) and the whole city set-up is believable and well thought-out. The class system on Diamond, together with the descriptions of the less well-off areas on Opal, bring both cities to life (and help give the impression that this would work as a fantasy.) There is a lot crammed into the 600 pages, but the book never feels rushed and even the romance sections, not something I would normally read, worked for me. It's a shame but, after ten years, I doubt this story will ever get finished.

Anvil (Nicolas van Pallandt, 1998)

The city of Kyara, home to about four million people, is the only haven on a planetoid with a gravity thirty-seven times that of Earth. It is to this city that Gabriel Kylie comes to learn the truth of his sister's death.

If City of Diamond was SF masquerading as fantasy, Anvil is SF masquerading as a noir crime thriller. To start with, it had me gripped as friendships were formed, secrets found and thrilling escapes made. Then, however, dead-ends started appearing and the set-pieces became more and more unbelievable and, about halfway through I found myself losing interest, only finding it again towards the end of the book, when all the plot-points (including why the novel was set where it was) started coming together for the big reveal. Still, I must have missed something as one, late-developing thread about the discovery of life on the planetoid seemed to go nowhere.

The characters aren't exactly unlikeable but I didn't find myself enjoying reading about them as much as I did about those in City of Diamond. Overall the book felt like one of those that had been written with one eye on a possible screenplay/blockbuster film and, overall, it was a less satisfying read than Diamond, despite the story in Anvil definitely being stand-alone.

The cover proclaims van Pallandt to be a "brilliant new name in science fiction". Strangely, this seems to be his only book. I can find little on the internet about him and the bio on the inside back cover just tells us that he was born in Switzerland in 1961, has been a professional illustrator and T.V. screenwriter. He has written and illustrated four children's books and Anvil is his first and, apparently only, novel.