Time to go back to the motor gym

It used to be the case that all red blooded males wanted their beer cold, their steak bloody and a rumbling V8 underneath their bonnet. These days it’s a glass of white wine to wash down the chicken Caesar salad and then home in the hybrid. So what has happened to the red blooded male and his truck engine in a plastic body? In this time of economic cutbacks and slowing markets, is the handsome, wild and extremely thirsty muscle car dying along with our masculinity?

We’ve entered an epoch of male moisturisers and manicures ‘for hard worked hands’. A time where men go on mid-week spa breaks and spend their Saturdays networking in trendy cafes. An age when its time for the American motor industry to revamp their affordable muscle car get man to put back on their trousers. Not only to put testosterone back on the road but also to get the American motor companies out of the current slump and back to the powerhouses they once were. These days you’d need to remortgage your house to afford a muscle car, and that’s not an easy thing to do in the States right now. The most affordable one nowadays is probably the new Mustang, with the new Camaro and upcoming Challenger a close second. But if you’re aiming for the Shelby or anything really in muscle car category, you’re looking at climbing towards $50K.

So where did it all go wrong? Remember how it only made sense when everyone was supposed to get bigger, in terms of industry and car size? General Motors bought Saab, BMW bought Rover, Daimler bought Chrysler, and Ford bought everything left over. Industry giants like Ford not only made most of their parts they also owned their own rubber and timber forests, steamship companies and ore mines. General Motors ran dozens of divisions to supply it with all the different components it needed to build its gadget-laden, tail-finned, chrome-laden, V8 battle cruisers, from the ground up.

Where the American companies have gone wrong in recent years is concentrating too much on the Hummers and big dumb SUV's. Now these companies can't borrow money to ride out the economic storm, and the credit squeeze has dramatically hindered car sales. What’s needed now is the affordable muscle cars of Detroit. For example it was the Ford mustang, launched in April 1964 that put Detroit on the map. The Mustang that quickly became the fastest-selling car, with Ford selling 100,000 Mustangs in the first four months, and a million in two years.

In the home of the iconic muscle car, General Motors has been in decline for decades. Sales are down everywhere and in effect General Motors is bleeding from several wounds. Chrysler and Ford aren’t fairing any better. Only last week it emerged that these companies are seeking $34 Billion from the American Government to help them weather the economic storm. It’s a pity, really, because as a result the American muscle car industry is teetering on the brink. It may well go and if it does we shall be waving goodbye to the companies that gave us the Mustang, the Camero, and the Charger. The companies that powered films like The Dukes of Hazard, Starsky & Hutch and Bullitt - tearing up San Francisco in a 1968 GT 390 Fastback in pursuit of a triple-black Dodge Charger 440 R/T. Does it get anymore manly? The big question is what will fill the void if these companies do go to the wall. Is it time for the European eco friendly cars to go stateside? And what does this mean for us red-blooded males? Can you imagine Bo and Luke Duke running from the authorities of Hazzard County in a Toyota Prius? Doesn't have the same edge. Or Steve McQueen, from Bullitt, chasing around San Francisco in a European Economy class car?

As it is Americans are unable to name major European cars apart from BMW, Mercedes, or Volkswagen and most Americans have never driven a European car in their life. Most people in America never leave America, even for a vacation, so they have absolutely no experience with foreign car industries. The idea of swapping their V8 small block for a 1.6 litre is repulsive for them. Their logic says that a super-sized meal must be better than a regular burger and fries; hence a Mustang must be better than an Audi TT. Why? Because it’s got bigger everything.

“Part of the problem in comparing American cars to European cars is that we don't have a lot of the European cars over here” Greg Consalvi, a Volkswagen Garage owner in California explains. “What we do have is our cars, and we like them quite a bit because it's what we all grew up with. I'd still have my Mustang if the gas mileage weren’t so vile, just to have the sheer power--put your foot down and slam back in your seat.”

The 1965 Ford Mustang spawned a generation of petrol-fuelled obsession; it was the reason people like Sheamus McNamara, a fellow red-blooded male, travelled to America. Trading in notion of sitting by a pool in the Costa, bronzing and sipping a Pina Colada for a holiday romance with a drop top muscle car on Route 66. “Arriving in California with the tyres bare and the top down I was in love” he explains, “They’re cars that’ll never put you to sleep at the wheel, five litres, 350 bhp and the open road. Even if it is over-engined and under-chassised you’ll never be disappointed”, “The only unpleasant moment was when I had to give it back.” Substitute the fuel efficient, reliable and Environment friendly European class car into this picture and 2,500 miles through the heart of America doesn’t sound as appealing. Driving down the Vegas strip in your ‘sophisticated Italian mini’ won’t raise too many eyes, but do it in a 1960’s Firebird with backfire coming out of the tailpipe will have people stopping in awe.

So what do these industries have to do to revamp the muscle car, and bring back our masculinity? First off the film industry isn’t doing us, or these companies any favours right now. Most film stars have traded in their gas-guzzler for the trendiest hybrid sissy car. Ferraris, Bentleys and Astons are taking up residence in the hills of Hollywood. Even 007, the man of men had a plethora of hydrogen-fuelled cars in the latest Bond film. What’s going on? It’s time for a real honest-to-gawd, hair-on-the-chest, G-dash-T-car film to inspire us all again. Something on the lines of a new Smokey and the Bandit with Evil Caneval stunts in new fangled Transam. Something that would have muscle car posters on young lads bedroom walls, and make men stop waxing their chests, and be proud to be a man again. Put these cars in as many films as possible, just like the Vipers, which appeared in 456 movies and TV shows, and garnered a generation of followers.

Secondly, its time to fabricate these new V8 battle cruisers. These companies own the copyright and could go back into their archives and dust off the blueprints for their old muscle cars. Its time for them to start raping their own history. Look how well it worked for the 2005 Mustang, the first true redesign of Ford’s pony car since 1979. While the Mustang’s exterior look has evolved in the last 29 years, the underpinnings saw only the modest of updates throughout its refresh. Fair enough it took nearly 30 years to get it right but for a time there the US lead the charge again. Already ideas are at foot to reinvent the Challenger, the Camero and the Chevy HHR. But we need more, when the future looks dangerous, its time to take comfort in the past. “It is hard work in that actually cleaning up an old shape for a modern era, and moulding it to packaging and aerodynamic and crash need, tends to require some very cunning optical illusions” explains Edward Snowden, American muscle car engineer. “But you have to agree there’s something in the proportions of these cars that set any petrol head a-rumbling.” Detroiters will raise a cheer for any new Challenger or the likes, with their hometown industry deep in cack they’ll jump at any chance for a way to remind themselves how great they once were. Revamp them all. Bring back the Pontiac GTO – one of the first muscle cars, the car that moved the horsepower arms race from the drag strip to the showroom. Bring out a new version of the Chevrolet Corvette Stingray, or the GT 350. Something that will get people talking about the 450 bhp, or the 525 lb ft of torque they have under their bonnets. Before long we’ll even have a new version of Mr Pickett’s chart topper Mustang Sally.

Finally pit them against the expensive and complicated hybrids, and beat them in simplicity. The muscle cars of old were straightforward to maintain, while the engines were big, the technology was simple. Anybody with a brain could carry out repairs and modifications, unlike the new half-electric, half-petrol hybrids. These cars need to be hooked up to an electric diagnostic tester just to point out what the problem is, so there’s little chance of a do-it-youself. And any cries about the enviroment suffering and the fuel shortage can be muted with the fact that these new versions are far better in performance, emissions, and mileage than any of it's 60's counterparts. Little is it known that to get any benefit from the likes of the Toyta Prius, one would have to drive it around the world twice.

So it’s time to start swapping your chino’s for a pair of jeans, your Dubes for boots and to start spitting again. Its time to let the motor industry in America know you’re ready for the next pony. Time to wear oil covered tee-shirts with pride because you’ve spent all day Saturday’s tinkering with the 289 cubic inch V8 under your bonnet. Go on, its time to be a man.

Axl Rose’s Appetite for Destruction

"Here's the deal: One more bottle and we go home" - Either it’s the start of a great evening or the end of years of hero worship. Sadly the latter and with Axl Rose’s infamous walking off stage tantrum, another group devout followers were left with a bitter taste of Guns ‘n’ Roses. The hyped Dublin concert, a chance for us fans to bask again in the glory of the legendary rock band shattered any sliver of respect we ever had for the man and tarnished Gun ‘n’ Roses forever in Ireland.

I still remember the first time I saw a Guns ‘n’ Roses album. The Parental Advisory still imprinted in my memory. I remember exactly where I was when I first heard “Get in the Ring” and my father’s reaction when he caught me listening to it. Used to the safety of Bros and Michael Jackson I was thrown into the world of Rock and Roll on a violent journey with idol Axel Rose.

Formally William Bruce Rose, a choir-boy turned rock legend. To millions a worshiped rock music icon, to others hated as a homophobic, sexist, and woefully self-indulgent rock star, has a checkered history of disappointing his fans. The late arrival of the band in Slane in 1992 was forgotten in the hype surrounding Guns ‘n’ Roses recent return to Ireland, until an hour’s wait in the O2 for W. Axl Rose to surface. The Guns ‘n’ Roses inspired riots of Montreal's Olympic Stadium and Vancouver's General Motors Place surfaced in my memory as the crowd grew more and more restless. Finally he emerged, and with no apology or crowd interaction, unleashed the best he had to offer over the boos and taunts of his disillusioned audience. A mere five songs in and Axl was re-enacting the 2006 Chinese Democracy Tour by throwing a strop and walking off stage, leaving a wake of enraged fans behind.

Axl’s appetite for destruction started in 1991 on the “Use your Illusion” tour. In June 1991 he let loose on a fan, challenging him to a fight and getting security to eject him from the Philadelphia venue before continuing with the gig. In July, his temper tantrum caused a full scale riot in Missouri, in which sixty fans were injured, he was charged with inciting a riot and Guns ‘n’ Roses were banned from St Louis for life. In April 1992 he ostracised the gay community with the lyrics of “One in a Million” and caused another riot in Montreal in August when he stormed off stage due to “vocal problems”. The South American leg of the tour ended 1992 on a low note when Axl attacked and injured a camera man before the concert in Santiago, Chile, got drunk and arrived for the gig two hours late. The result, a riot outside the stadium, 50 people arrested and a teenage fan dying.

In a Rolling Stones interview with Kim Neely in 1992 he blamed his antics on his violent upbringing. That the childhood traumas he suffered played a large part in shaping his volatile nature. As a teenager he dropped out of high school and was arrested over twenty times on charges of drunkenness and assault, and nearly charged as a habitual criminal by the Lafayette authorities. By the time he was 17 he left Indiana, on the advice of his lawyer and set out hitchhiking around the States. He finally settled in Los Angeles, and began performing with various local bands, including L.A. Guns and Hollywood Rose which ultimately became the successful Guns ‘n’ Roses in 1985.

By 1991, Axl was causing rifts in the band firing their then manager, Alan Niven, in a lovers tiff and refused to complete any albums until he was gone. It was the start of the end and bit by bit the band broke up. Axl demanded sole ownership of the Guns ‘n’ Roses band name and tried to keep the band alive by replacing its members as they dropped off like flies. The final straw for the band was when Axl replaced lead guitarist Slash's guitar parts on the band's cover version of the Rolling Stones' song "Sympathy for the Devil" for the soundtrack of the film Interview with the Vampire. By the time 1997 came around he was the only original member of the band and had turned into a recluse, withdrawing from public scrutiny and worked on Guns ‘n’ Roses next releases himself.

Even though the name of the band is now the sole property of Axl Rose, the band’s back catalogue is not. Former members, Slash and McKagan have had to file several lawsuits against Axl for matters related to control, administration of the songs in the Guns N' Roses catalogue and the denial of royalty checks for Guns ‘n’ Roses’ sales.

Axl’s self destruction also crosses over into his personal life, separating from his wife Erin Everly, the daughter of Don Everly, after only a month. A month that resulted in a civil lawsuit alleging various incidents of physical and emotional domestic violence against Axl. Lawsuits of physical abuse were also filed Axl’s by ex-partner and model Stephanie Seymour and he was arrested for assaulting a neighbour with a wine bottle. In 2006 he was alleged to have bitten a security guard's leg and shattered an antique lobby mirror while in a drunken rage in Stockholm and ended up spending the night in a drunk-tank.

Controversy seems to follow Axl everywhere and it seems that the enigmatic superstar has always had the ability to cause a stir. People are either big fans or really hate him; it’s a love-hate thing. U2 once sent a crate of 40-year-old Irish whiskey and a barrel of Guinness for the band when gigging in Ireland and yet he can still throw all of his toys out of the pram, insulting this memory. His most recent antics in Dublin come on the back of several tantrums on the Chinese Democracy tour. In March he cussed the audience in San Paulo, has turned up late at concerts in Lima, Reading and Leeds and is slowing loosing the cult following Guns ‘n’ Roses once had. The warning signs have been there since the band was formed but we the fans refused to acknowledge them and are witnessing the slow death of our hero worship.

In the darkened Dublin arena, amongst the jeering and bottle throwing, the disappointment of the devoted fans was infectious. Even the opening bars of “Welcome to the Jungle” couldn’t overcome the taunts, Axl had lost the crowd before he ever put a foot on the stage. When he eventually appeared, an older and fatter shadow of his former self, there was nothing he could do to return the shambolic situation to the promised gig. As the lights went on in the O2 arena they went out in the hearts of the thousands of fans gathered there. The blatant refusal to see the warning signs that have been there since the band was formed gave way like a devastating train wreck. The muted masses left the theatre, never again to speak softly of the once legendary rebel frontman.

As you are now, so once were we

Try get your tongue around the title “As you are now, so once were we” and I guarantee you stumble. Try to say it twice and you were we and now was then. This is the way this performance should be approached. The way that the words of the title get mixed and muddled mimics the interplay of the performance. A story that starts at the beginning, circumnavigates any sense of direction and promptly places you back at the beginning at the end. Confused? Exactly!

Set as a modern interpretation of Joyces ‘Ulysses’ it follows four actors on their journey to the intimate setting of the Peacock theatre. The journey to the Abbey’s little sister is seen differently through each of the eyes of actors and is justifiably confused. The different personalities give each retelling another twist so the audience is left wondering which way is up and what will happen next. Leaving the theatre at the end, one is as confused and bemused as if having read on of Joyces quotes “I am tomorrow, or some future day, what I establish today. I am today what I established yesterday or some previous day!”

This feeling penetrates into the range of emotions experienced by the audience. It varies from outright laughter at Brian ‘the self proclaimed B-man’ Bennetts version of the tale to an intense anticipation, where the audience hangs on every word from Rob McDermott’s final summation of the voyage. Somewhere in the middle there’s the static yet three dimensional version from Nyree Yergainharsian and a welcome change to low key lighting with Tanya Wilson.

When the Safety curtain rises it reveals a sparse stage backed by a curious montage of cardboard boxes. The cast, clad as if at rehearsal or on the way to art College, flank the stage. The show kicks off with an Art Attack effort to blow the cobwebs off the audience. A pre-recorded track is blasted over the PA system and combined with a nonsensical dance with the boxes on stage. Once the mood of confusion has settled firmly on the audience they are given a mesmerising narrative of actress’ Nayree morning activities. As she stands centre stage and details the morning’s hum-drum activities , the other actors use the boxes as props to give life to her tale. Boxes are transformed into opening doors, reflecting mirrors and descending stairs. The stationary character is placed in a three dimensional world which sets the rhythm for the rest of the performance. Her story introduces the other characters, which take over the tale at their whim, interjecting at random to tell the audience of their version of the events. The story quickly changes from a telling in the first person, to a group telling and back to the first person at ­­twice the speed of confusion. It’s a tiresome affair and the constant brightness of the stage weighs on the eyes, the only lighting relief comes in the moments of Tanya’s own confusion.

The script is as full of puns, parodies, and allusions as Joyce’s great novel. It takes up the mantel of his original title choice Dubliners by focusing on the Odyssey of the four locals to get to the performance. Ties can be drawn immediately to his first episode of ‘Ulysses ‘ Telemachus, the use of the breakfast scene, the walk along through the streets of Dublin and the imagined cruel remarks from Tanya of the B-Man’s friend. Other direct parallels can be seen where the narrative shifts abruptly, time is reset and another character takes over. Nyree’s tale is hijacked with Brian’s, reset and retold as it did in with the introduction Leopold Bloom. The B-man starts his version in the Siren style where the episode dominated by motif of music and humour.

The smartness of the direction from Jose Miguel Jimenez, a graduate of the Bachelor in Acting Studies in Trinity College, is only truly evident as the play comes towards its close. The muffled vignettes experienced from behind boxes throughout the play require the stage to be rotated 180 degrees to be heard clearly. The hidden actress, Tanya, comes to the fore to impart her account of the group’s wanderings. She in turn is backed by the muffled stories from the other cast member who have switched places with her and are now hidden behind the cardboard boxes. The cast show a great understanding of the acoustics of the small venue, able to reduce their voices to mere whispers yet travel them to the far end of the theatre.

The performance almost ends with a haunting account of the cavalcade with great run-on sentences from Rob McDermott. The audience has barely regained its breath from a comical facebook analogy when his account stills all those assembled. But it doesn’t end here. Instead it tries to express the hidden meaning of the play, retells it, reiterates it and overkills it. The performance brings itself to several endings, but proudly pushes through each of them, as if trapped in itself until it finally finds its resting place, a little too late.

Another great effort from the ‘The Company’, founded by graduates of Trinity College Dublin, proving why they’ve already been awarded two awards in the Absolute Fringe Festival and why the Project Arts Centre is crucial for the development of the Arts in Ireland.

Digging for Abba Gold

As soon as I step through the balloon splattered archway it’s like a call to arms from the GAA corner. The irony of the rebel T O Davis’ ‘A Nation Once Again’ blasting through the air puts a grin on my face and I think to myself that today’s a good day for digging.

Only meters into the Blackrock market and I’m transported to a different place, a world of peoples cast-offs jumbled together into a giant Alice In Wonderland pix-and-mix. The entrance, blanketed with its pink velvet paintings, puts me miles from the bustling street only meters away. A portal, flanked by a frozen clown giving out flyers for face painting and free balloons sets the scene. So I rub my hand along the velvet surface, grasp my balloon string tightly and set off down the rabbit’s hole.

The emerald green GAA corner stands proudly on the left. Plastered with memorabilia of yesterday’s hero’s wearing the shortest short shorts, it dares me to rifle through its records. All the Irish rebels are accounted for in the first few seconds, from the infamous Wolfe Tones to Aran-sweater clad Clancy Brothers. It’s like a Fleadh Cheoil in a box. There’s every combination of the 45 years of the Dubliners, from the ‘Ronnie Drew Ballad Group’ to solo albums from Luke Kelly, Paddy Reilly and Ronnie himself. Flicking through the covers is like a Paddy-whackery journey of whiskey cheeks and green fields. But just as I find myself submitting to a newly found patriotism, out pops Gay Byrne in a bright turtle neck to escort me back in reality. From the Chieftain’s ‘Celtic Wedding’ to ‘Humours of John D Sheridan with Gay Byrne’ in one flick. Then it all goes astray, the next few flicks brings me from Edward Elger to Wagner, the composer not Louis’ Brazilian gypsy, in a heartbeat. The classic shift gets deeper and deeper. Quickly I’m lost amongst Opera choruses and looking for a way out.

Out of the corner of my eye I spy two treasure boxes hidden beneath a wicker chair dressed on the stall across for me. Relieved I jump across to the Old Lamp Light to an array of records that delight the senses. The Great Piaf back to back with Whitney Houston’s ‘Dance with somebody’, Abba’s greatest hits next to Fiddler on the Roof. The collection is in stark contrast to the rebellious overtures I just experienced, here I’m offered the chance to hear the English National Anthem as performed by the London Symphony choir rather than the Green Fields of France. Only here would you find the comical combination of Adam and the Ants directly after the Rose of Tralee by James Last. The collection is as jumbled as the lyric to a Model of Modern Major General, brought to mind by the Pirates of Penzance sleeve in my hands.

Appetite truly wet, I delve deeper into the wonderland. As I pass Mary's Old Curiosity Shop, Jack Duckworth’s voice pierces my ears. The unexpected and strangest attempt at Unchained Melody I’ve ever heard ironically announces my arrival the SuperHero Shop. This little digging gem, nestled in the bosom of the market, calls out like a dying siren. The record boxes, flanked by comics and figurines, await my eager hands. Looking up at me is Gene Simmons, daring me to go back and get my face painted, egging him on is Shirley Temple to the right and White Snake to the left. Everyone’s game here and the only order is how the last digger left them. Between Meatloaf’s ‘Bat Out of Hell’ and Dire Straits ‘Brother’s in Arms’ sits UB40. The pricing is as random too, if the owner like the artwork on the sleeve you pay an extra euro. So the Top of the Pops albums from the 1960’s, pornographic material for school boys back in the day turn out to be the most expensive. But that like everything in this nouveau riche bazaar is up for negation.

How many of these records were the pride and joy of their owners before they were inherited here? As I flick past a Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits and Top of the Pops 1969 I fall further down the rabbit hole, imaging the original owner of these records, playing truant the day they were bought. I get caught thinking about the journey each record has taken to wind up here in front of me. From their exciting first listen along their obscure path that brought them to this stall. How many ears know exactly where the needle slips and how many hands gently removed the vinyl from these sleeves. Picking ten albums purely at random, I pay half the price asked and proudly walk back to the real world, sleeves showing in defiance against all the squares.

In 1982 the Northern Irish punk rock group released their fourth studio album, Now Then...., This 14 track album showed how they had diversified musically, and had an almost pop feel about it in places. Sadly, it alienated their hardcore fans and in the face of low sales and concert attendances eventually led to their break up in 1983.

This first greatest hits compilation was issued by Radio Corporation of America after the termination of Reed's first contract in 1976. The 11 tracks survey Reed's five-year, eight-album time with RCA and was produced with David Bowie. As the name suggests it features the classic fretless bass soundings of ‘Walk on the Wild Side’, only truly appreciated on vinyl.

The 1987 ballad by singer Michael Jackson, featuring a duet with Siedah Garrett. Written and composed by Jackson, it was originally intended to be a duet between Jackson and either Barbra Streisand or Whitney Houston. The song became the first of five consecutive number-one singles from Jackson's Bad album.

A double album released in 1980. The album hit number one on the US album chart, a first for Springsteen, and sold 1.6 million copies in the U.S. between its release in October and Christmas. Since its release ‘The River’ has been certified quintuple platinum in the U.S., making it one of Springsteen's best-selling albums. In 2003, the album was ranked number 250 on Rolling Stone magazine's list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

Unexpected purchase which is the fictional autobiographical as told by a horse. Black Beauty recounts his many tales, both of cruelty and kindness. Although initially intended for people who work with horses, it soon became a children's classic. While outwardly teaching animal welfare, it also contains allegorical lessons about how to treat people with kindness, sympathy and respect. Ah bless!

Bark at the Moon was the third studio album by Ozzy Osbourne, originally released in 1983.The album peaked at number 19 on the Billboard album chart and within several weeks of release was certified Gold for over 500,000 sales. To date, it has sold over 3,000,000 copies in the U.S alone.

The unforgettable theme tunes of the Persuaders, Hawaii Five-0, Crossroads and Match of the Day played by the Geoff Love Orchestra. Only the best from 1972.

Another one I wasn’t expecting, although it might be continuing its journey again pretty soon! It originated after the sales for Cabbage Patch Kids branded products rocketed in 1984. The Chapin Brothers decided that a LP was the next step. A good idea, considering the album went Gold and Platinum in no time at all, not to everyone’s taste though.

Okay, not a random choice, but when I saw that Brian Tilsley attempted All You Need Is Love it was a must buy. Released in 1987, it allowed the soaps fans enjoy contributions Bet Lynch’s unique rendition of ‘These Boots Are Made for Walking’, Sally Webster warbling a cover of Gloria Gaynor's ‘Never Can Say Goodbye’ and Mike Baldwin doing a Sinatra impression with ‘You Make Me Feel So Young’.

The fifth studio album by Grace Jones, released in 1981. It is the second of three post-disco albums that Jones made at Compass Point Studios in the Bahamas and became Jones' commercial breakthrough and also formed the basis of her groundbreaking concept tour A One Man Show.

God of Carnage

The ‘God of Carnage’ cringed as he descended onto the Baroque carpeted boards of the Gate theatre. Once settle in his creaky seat you could feel him flinch each time the over anxious audience guffawed like a bad laughter track. Smothered by the smell of tea from the audience he watched four actors latch onto their lines and furnish them with great gusto but little forethought. Even this God, dedicated to butchery, squirmed as Christopher Hampton’s adaptation of Yasmina Reza’s ‘Le Dieu du Carnage’ traded its tragedy for humour using scenes of projectile vomiting as a comic coup de theatre.

While a South Dublin playground replaces the French battle-ground the premise stays the same; two couples trying to work out their children’s antics but they themselves descend the slippery slope of childishness until each character has been stripped of politeness and chaos ensues. As their relationship and ideological boundaries shift, allegiances are formed and crushed in the space between Ardal O’Hanlon’s irritating phone calls. Alcohol is imbibed, truths are told and relationships are laid bare. And so it turns into a study of how the primitive omnivore inside even the upper-middle-class can be laid bare. Yet this spectacle of spectatorship is ruined by bad slapstick that loses its edge when the insults are turned into elegant jokes and any sense of tragedy dissipates as it plays the audience for laughs.

What this bastardised tragedy needs is a strong cast to carry it, to really bite into its theme of the primitive beneath the proper with Plato-like rhetoric. The Westend Production played Ralph Fiennes, Tamsin Greig, Janet McTeer and Ken Stott who pulled off an emergency lit production on their first night. The Gate’s production makes its nouveau riche couples a mix match of Father Ted, Ballykissangel, Bachelors Walk and ER. So the audience, sold a night of tittering with Fr Dougal do just that and gone is the sense of Yasmina Reza’s ironic tragedy.

The rich Dublin living room, far from ‘Bushy Park’, seems more like an extension of the gate theatre, set at a tapering angle to give the illusion of a grand living room. A lustre of afternoon sun, created by lighting designer Paul Keogan, pours into the high ceilinged room and gives an air of elegance to the stage, coupled with the lofty stairs in the background it creates a sense of a fine house behind the room. The audience is introduced to an upset Veronica (Donna Dent) and Michael Vallon (Owen Roe): their son, Bruno, has lost two teeth after being attacked by Ferdinand, the son of Annette (Maura Tierney) and Alan Reille (Ardal O Hanlon). The couples, clad in business suits and Dalkey couture by Joan O'Clery, are brought together by the violence and set about discussing how to handle the situation. What starts as an amicable debate between the two couples begins to escalate, until all pleasantness is dissolved and the adults, with alliances constantly realigning from partner to gender, revert to acting like children themselves until each of them is left broken from the experience.

As the play progresses the true nature of their characters are revealed. Ardal O Hanlon plays the cynical lawyer who calmly states that his son is “a savage”, yet breaks down into catatonic shock when his mobile phone goes for a swim at the hands of wife. Donna Dent tries to cling on to her civilised values as the 'cultured' Véronique but ultimately succumbs to the law of the jungle when she turns in lioness-like anger on her visitors. And Maura Tierney makes a highly believable and amusing transition as the mousey Annette who finds freedom and power in rum, and turns into a kind of mischievous, giggling sprite. Owen Roe transforms from an O’Carroll-Kelly lapdog to a “descendant from Spartacus” when it turns out that his son, the victim of the incident, may in fact be a gang-leading aggressor. And when attention falls on him for dumping his daughter’s hamster in the street, his veneer cracks to reveal a feral man happy to confess that he’s a “Neanderthal,” hardly caring that in doing so he has announced himself to be a member of the species his Avoca clad wife has ostensibly devoted her life to eradicating.

Director Alan Stanford, just returned from directing Pinter’s Betrayal and Celebration in the USA, gallops the play to the final curtain in an hour and a half, without intermission, and leaves you wondering how different the experience would be if the play was in its native language and original form.

Presented by arrangement with David Pugh and Dafydd Rogers the God of Carnage by Yasmina Reza, translated by Christopher Hampton. Directed by Alan Stanford, design by Joan O'Clery, lighting design by Paul Keogan. With Donna Dent, Owen Roe, Maura Tierney and Ardal O Hanlon.

Record Store Day

In these days of political correctness, every dog has its day. We’ve just had International women’s Day (not to be confused with Mother’s Day), International Children’s Book Day is around the corner and Earth Day is at the end of the month. The world has gone mad with its Hallmark celebrations and soon we’ll be buying fluffy cards for our goldfish and chocolates for our hamsters for fear that they might feel unloved!

What the world needs is rock n’ roll fuelled day - a day that celebrates music as the glue of the world and the binding force that keeps it together, minus the fuzzy cards and tacky trinkets. Something like ‘Rex Manning Day’ from the cult movie Empire Records, complete with roof top versions of ‘Sugar High’ and gatherings of devout fans. A proper celebration that makes music come alive in a carnival at the source of the heart-rending magic. What the world needs is a ‘Rex Manning Day’ dedicated to the Empire Records of this world.

“We mustn't dwell... no, not today. We CAN'T. Not on Rex Manning Day!”

Now thanks to Chris Brown, an employee at Bull Moose record store in Portland, the dream has come a reality and turned into a global celebration – Record Store Day! It’s a day dedicated to our local indie libraries and their constant battle with the MusicTowns of this world. It comes complete with exclusive releases and hundreds of artists coming together across the globe to perform in local stores. And it’s celebrating its fourth birthday on April 16th in independent record stores across Ireland.

Leading from the front is bat-biting pensioner Ozzy Osbourne, who has taken up the mantle of Record Store Day Ambassador. A role that was inaugurally filled by the Eagles

of Death Metal front man Jesse ‘Boots Electric’ Hughes in 2009 and Queens of the Stone Age’s Joshua Homme in 2010. Ozzy’s tasked with conveying the majesty of the releases made on the world’s only holiday devoted to music and in drawing attention away from the big monetarily strong chainstores, and directing it at the ‘Empires’ of the world. In a time of dumbed down mass produced art when homogeneous companies are slowly burying the smaller diverse indie shops we sit back and remember that without them many of the big names in music would still be undiscovered.

While its too early for stores to release their line-up for the day, here’s a taste of what happened in Dublin last year: Tower Records hosted special guest performances from Mundy, Heathers, Neil Hannon, amongst others and ran a discount throughout the store with vouchers and gig tickets to be won; the ill-fated Road Records had live performances from Paul Noonan (Bell X1), Lisa Hannigan, Villagers, Neil Hannon and Jape; City Discs and Freebird Records had discounts on all stock and live DJ sets from the cream of the crop of Irish DJs. These stores, and others across Ireland, used Record Store Day to connect the people with the physicality of music again, an essence that has been lost with the rise of the Mp3 file, by drawing light to time, energy and love that each store devotes to their library of tunes.

Despite the success of online retailers, the explosion of Internet downloads and high-profile closings of megastores, independents like All City, Celtic Note, City Discs, Freebird Records, Freebird Records (Secret Book and Record Store), Sound Cellar, Spindizzy Records and Tower Records are still championing the cause in Dublin. And while it’s hard to imagine there is generation out there that never experienced the music phenomena of holding a piece of music in their hand or experienced the thrill of flipping through a Nick Cave bootleg box in their local indie house, they do exist! Record Store Day is the perfect chance to place a 12” in these kid’s hands and inform them about how the concept of cover art actually used to mean something more than a downloaded jpeg. It’s a perfect opportunity to teach them that listening to music used to be an event - forced to sit down at a turntable and actually listen to the music. That the scratches and

pops associated with the vinyl are all part of the warmth of the experience - something they’ll never get with the thousands of songs on their Mp3 players.

Already there are 185 exclusive releases pegged for the fourth anniversary which include a Rolling Stones limited vinyl edition of Brown Sugar, Mastodon’s “Blood Mountain” in two colored vinyl disc edition, a Deftones limited white vinyl 7” single from the forthcoming “Diamond Eyes” album, a limited Muse “Exogenesis: Symphony” in black vinyl , Metallica’s “Live at Grimey's” on 10" Double vinyl and “Wide Awake in Europe” from U2, a 12" vinyl 3 live tracks from European 360 tour. From Soundgarden the unreleased track "Telephantasm" on 7" and a vinyl 7" single from Neil Young of “Heart of Gold” recorded during the Harvest LP sessions in 1971 in Nashville - featuring James Taylor and Linda Rondstadt who were in Nashville at the time as guests on the Johnny Cash television show.

Take time out on April 16th to take a trip to your local indie record shop tomorrow, you’ll see how and why music still matters, but don’t expect a card!

“Damn the man, Save the Empire”

Record Store Day, the global annual celebration of independent music shops, will take place on April 16th. Last year, shops all over Ireland hosted in-store performances, raffles and giveaways, and this year is set to be similarly successful, with indie outlets in Dublin, Cork, Mullingar, Belfast, Derry and more set to participate.

For more information check out www.recordstoreday.com

Record Store Day Quotes:

It's not just the ability to touch, see and smell an album and the artwork...it's the fact that you are in a Real Place with Real People...and not just any people: other music-obsessed freaks like you.

Amanda Palmer (The Dresden Dolls)

A proper record shop reminds us why we got into this in the first place - a place to be reminded of old friends, still in their spots on the shelves, a source of unexpected magic and lucid memories - a place that reminds us that music is more than dumb file sharing and the management of dead data by faceless sociopathic corporations, but a storehouse of dreams, both possible and impossible."

Max Richter (Fat Cat Records)

“There would be no Elvis. There would be no Johnny Cash. There’d be no B.B King. There’d be no Roscoe Gordon. There’d be no Carl Perkins. There would be no Jerry Lee Lewis. There would be no Roy Orbison. I can just tell you. We owe all of that to the independents and the independent people that work so hard for us to have something that could be accepted through their efforts, hard work, and desire to keep a personal feeling in every record.”

Sam Phillips (A&R/producer for Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Carl Perkins, and many others)

"Buy real records in real shops, or I'll come round your house and scream at your mother.”

Ian Gillan (Deep Purple)

"Music is an important part of our culture and record stores play a vital part in keeping the power of music alive"

Chuck Berry

"The 'cool' record store. It is where you can talk to people who are like you. They look like you, think like you and, most tellingly like the same music as you - the only comparable experience these days would probably be an art museum - an actual place where you can stand and simply be surrounded by your heroes."

Wayne Coyne (The Flaming Lips)

“Folks who work here are professors. Don't replace all the knowers with guessers keep'em open they're the ears of the town”

Tom Waits

“I now have the power to command you to attend Record Store Day, April 16 be there!”

Ozzy Osbourne