There's been a bit of a recurring theme through this blog/training; Heavy drinking followed by a run the next day (or a run followed by heavy drinking, can't remember which came first.). This blog is a tale of two runs. One preceded by a heroic drinking session, the other by a quiet, if somewhat sleepless night stone cold-sober (the two latter facts might be related).
Sunday 8 Miles - 1 Hr 10 Mins
Kirklevington / Picton loop. I ran this a couple of times as a teenager in my slimmer, fitter days. the time hasn't changed a great deal though so perhaps not that much fitter if definitely slimmer. A decent run with a few undulations to keep me occupied. Not much traffic and I got more of a shock when a cyclist rode past close. Might have been Paul Heaton on his way to a gig...
Soundtrack - Paul Heaton - The Cross Eyed Rambler / Acid Country
The Beautiful South's swansong full-length recording was the aptly named "Superbi". I didn't buy it at the time. I'd long since strayed from their gravitational pull but would return with force when setting up The Southmartins. Superbi is a real grower of an album with an edgier, countrified production. It sounds pretty "live" compared to a lot of their earlier stuff and particularly the preceding two albums Gaze and Painting It Red (Neither of which have yet to float my boat fully). Paul's first Solo album after the split followed a similar vein to my ears but was noticably more edgy in production, performance and its overtly politically charged lyrics. Somewhere between The Housemartins (Mermaids and Slaves), The Strokes (I Do) and the countrified rock of Superbi (God Bless Texas) it is choc-full of musical and lyrical hooks. The writing on Superbi was watertight and gone were the recent clumsy lyrical scans and attempts to sound too modern and "groovy". Cross Eyed Rambler, although somewhat conservative some might say in its rock rich palette has a great deal to offer upon repeated listens and it's the songs that maybe don't grab you first time amid the bluster of the punkier moments that reward in the long term. Deckchair Collapsed and Little Red Rooster with their tempo / rhythm shifts and bouncy choruses are two such highlights. The closing song; Everything is Everything; is, perhaps, the defining song of Paul's solo career so far though. It's a state of the nation address which points a magnifying glass at the current culture of 24 hour media, social networking and gossip-mongering. It set the lyrical template for the centrepiece of his next album "Acid Country" and preceded his long-song cycle "The 8th" with its expansive narrative. Modern folk music indeed. With the iPod skipping a few tracks I had to move onto Acid Country, a slightly more subdued affair with a definite lean towards country-rock. Just what I needed to be honest for the last couple of miles, rather than a boost of testosterone and I finished on the beautiful This House, contemplating whether to include it in the next live set. I guess Paul doesn't wholeheartedly approve of tribute acts (neither do I to be fair) but his canon of work certainly deserves more credit than it's received.
Tuesday - Distance 6 miles. Time 54 mins
6 miles. Easy enough after the 8 on Sunday. I picked the route from walkjogrun.net and, yes, I sa it had Ormesby Bank on it. Ormesby Bank, for those outside of Teesside (or those who never stray from Yarm!) is about a mile or so of gradually increasing incline heading out towards Nunthorpe and Guisborough. No beer last night so I was fairly well primed. Turning onto the bank I looked ahead and could see the summit and thought "actually, that's not as bad as I thought. Let's go" or something similar. Halfway up this bank I remembered that the road dips slightly at the top to pass over the Parkway and then begins to climb again...steeper. I didn't stop though for the full 6 miles. With a mantra of "Gary Barlow! Gary Barlow!" in my head I made it to the top. Slowly. The beauty of such a hill is that it's mostly downhill from there. My only real worry was could my legs hold out after that prolonged climb? Eddie Izzard, on running his ridiculous amount of marathons said he got to a point and his body just said "right this is what I'm doing now. I'm running" and there's a sense of that coming over me now. I'm actually being quite disciplined (apart from the drinking) in my approach to this and making sure I get out and cover the distances. I'm also trying to teach myself some traditional Irish tunes on the guitar so that if by chance I end up at Sidmouth again next year I can hold my own next to the Kitts sisters (that sounds very wrong). Failing that I'll have to bother the local pubs with some diddly-iddly-aye. The point that links the two is that, just like running, if you repeatedly perform a task (playing intricate patterns on the guitar over and over, running for prolonged periods, regulalry) your body begins to do it as a matter of course. I've learned one song so far "John Ryan's Polka" and I'm working on another, "Paddy Doory's Jig" with my aim being to make it to "The Rocky Road to Dublin" by next summer. Again, it's taken determination, discipline and patience. I struggle with all of these things but there seems to be something to be said for them as they're paying off.
Soundtrack - The Coral - Butterfly House / Invisible Invasion
There are a few bands that we, the British, take for granted. Supergrass were one of them. They wrote and recorded some classic and classy indie-rock-pop tunes in their time to diminishing public response ending in a quiet demise. The Coral are another band that, like Supergrass, eschew contemporary influences in favour of music from the past to create timeless sounds. Butterfly House is the Coral's latest album and, sonically, something of a departure. John Leckie, who produced The Stone Roses classic debut, was at the helm and he has washed their previously crystal clear sound with reverb and fairy dust to create something approaching the atmosphere in a hot, steamy, psychedelic greenhouse. Where the vocals were always to the fore he has pulled them back into the swamp of the mix and, although a shock to the system to fans on first hearing, he has breathed new life into their tight bag of influences. The Byrds / Crosby Still & Nash are key touchstones on this albums with the close, folk-rock harmonies and jangling guitars but they still end up sounding like The Coral. Their increasingly dour sound has developed since the bouncy, breakthrough single "Dreaming of You" ten or so years ago (yes, really). Where the influence of Madness often punched through, now the details and dynamics are more subtle and there is always an air of it being the end of summer in their songs. My favourite album of theirs would still probably be The Invisible Invasion, produced by Portishead team Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley. There's a touch of Can about the opener She Sings The Mourning and a darkness throughout the album that hints at ghosts outside your tent at night. Hopefully the success of Butterfly House in re-establishing them as a vital force will give them the momentum to carry on slightly under the radar.
Sunday 8 Miles - 1 Hr 10 Mins
Kirklevington / Picton loop. I ran this a couple of times as a teenager in my slimmer, fitter days. the time hasn't changed a great deal though so perhaps not that much fitter if definitely slimmer. A decent run with a few undulations to keep me occupied. Not much traffic and I got more of a shock when a cyclist rode past close. Might have been Paul Heaton on his way to a gig...
Soundtrack - Paul Heaton - The Cross Eyed Rambler / Acid Country
The Beautiful South's swansong full-length recording was the aptly named "Superbi". I didn't buy it at the time. I'd long since strayed from their gravitational pull but would return with force when setting up The Southmartins. Superbi is a real grower of an album with an edgier, countrified production. It sounds pretty "live" compared to a lot of their earlier stuff and particularly the preceding two albums Gaze and Painting It Red (Neither of which have yet to float my boat fully). Paul's first Solo album after the split followed a similar vein to my ears but was noticably more edgy in production, performance and its overtly politically charged lyrics. Somewhere between The Housemartins (Mermaids and Slaves), The Strokes (I Do) and the countrified rock of Superbi (God Bless Texas) it is choc-full of musical and lyrical hooks. The writing on Superbi was watertight and gone were the recent clumsy lyrical scans and attempts to sound too modern and "groovy". Cross Eyed Rambler, although somewhat conservative some might say in its rock rich palette has a great deal to offer upon repeated listens and it's the songs that maybe don't grab you first time amid the bluster of the punkier moments that reward in the long term. Deckchair Collapsed and Little Red Rooster with their tempo / rhythm shifts and bouncy choruses are two such highlights. The closing song; Everything is Everything; is, perhaps, the defining song of Paul's solo career so far though. It's a state of the nation address which points a magnifying glass at the current culture of 24 hour media, social networking and gossip-mongering. It set the lyrical template for the centrepiece of his next album "Acid Country" and preceded his long-song cycle "The 8th" with its expansive narrative. Modern folk music indeed. With the iPod skipping a few tracks I had to move onto Acid Country, a slightly more subdued affair with a definite lean towards country-rock. Just what I needed to be honest for the last couple of miles, rather than a boost of testosterone and I finished on the beautiful This House, contemplating whether to include it in the next live set. I guess Paul doesn't wholeheartedly approve of tribute acts (neither do I to be fair) but his canon of work certainly deserves more credit than it's received.
Tuesday - Distance 6 miles. Time 54 mins
6 miles. Easy enough after the 8 on Sunday. I picked the route from walkjogrun.net and, yes, I sa it had Ormesby Bank on it. Ormesby Bank, for those outside of Teesside (or those who never stray from Yarm!) is about a mile or so of gradually increasing incline heading out towards Nunthorpe and Guisborough. No beer last night so I was fairly well primed. Turning onto the bank I looked ahead and could see the summit and thought "actually, that's not as bad as I thought. Let's go" or something similar. Halfway up this bank I remembered that the road dips slightly at the top to pass over the Parkway and then begins to climb again...steeper. I didn't stop though for the full 6 miles. With a mantra of "Gary Barlow! Gary Barlow!" in my head I made it to the top. Slowly. The beauty of such a hill is that it's mostly downhill from there. My only real worry was could my legs hold out after that prolonged climb? Eddie Izzard, on running his ridiculous amount of marathons said he got to a point and his body just said "right this is what I'm doing now. I'm running" and there's a sense of that coming over me now. I'm actually being quite disciplined (apart from the drinking) in my approach to this and making sure I get out and cover the distances. I'm also trying to teach myself some traditional Irish tunes on the guitar so that if by chance I end up at Sidmouth again next year I can hold my own next to the Kitts sisters (that sounds very wrong). Failing that I'll have to bother the local pubs with some diddly-iddly-aye. The point that links the two is that, just like running, if you repeatedly perform a task (playing intricate patterns on the guitar over and over, running for prolonged periods, regulalry) your body begins to do it as a matter of course. I've learned one song so far "John Ryan's Polka" and I'm working on another, "Paddy Doory's Jig" with my aim being to make it to "The Rocky Road to Dublin" by next summer. Again, it's taken determination, discipline and patience. I struggle with all of these things but there seems to be something to be said for them as they're paying off.
Soundtrack - The Coral - Butterfly House / Invisible Invasion
There are a few bands that we, the British, take for granted. Supergrass were one of them. They wrote and recorded some classic and classy indie-rock-pop tunes in their time to diminishing public response ending in a quiet demise. The Coral are another band that, like Supergrass, eschew contemporary influences in favour of music from the past to create timeless sounds. Butterfly House is the Coral's latest album and, sonically, something of a departure. John Leckie, who produced The Stone Roses classic debut, was at the helm and he has washed their previously crystal clear sound with reverb and fairy dust to create something approaching the atmosphere in a hot, steamy, psychedelic greenhouse. Where the vocals were always to the fore he has pulled them back into the swamp of the mix and, although a shock to the system to fans on first hearing, he has breathed new life into their tight bag of influences. The Byrds / Crosby Still & Nash are key touchstones on this albums with the close, folk-rock harmonies and jangling guitars but they still end up sounding like The Coral. Their increasingly dour sound has developed since the bouncy, breakthrough single "Dreaming of You" ten or so years ago (yes, really). Where the influence of Madness often punched through, now the details and dynamics are more subtle and there is always an air of it being the end of summer in their songs. My favourite album of theirs would still probably be The Invisible Invasion, produced by Portishead team Geoff Barrow and Adrian Utley. There's a touch of Can about the opener She Sings The Mourning and a darkness throughout the album that hints at ghosts outside your tent at night. Hopefully the success of Butterfly House in re-establishing them as a vital force will give them the momentum to carry on slightly under the radar.
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