more Hull

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So, there has been a bit of a mission going on in my head over the past few days to ascertain what really is good about Hull. And I mean genuinely about Hull itself. Just what does make it unique, the things-that-are-not-to-be-found-anywhere-else-in-the-world kind of goodness?

OK, well in addition to Emma Rugg there is always Fonda 500. (Can you see a theme developing here?) Yes I love music and especially live music and especially-especially when you see a band that plays with as much conviction, enthusiasm and genuine enjoyment as Fonda 500. Creators of not just slightly retro (without being derivative) synth-rock, we are talking a full on Casiotone workout, fuzz-bass, programmed loops and dirty guitars with simple lyrics that make it very clear that the band is not about taking themselves seriously, but even in this macho, posturing, media-enslaved world of pop and rock, actually having a good time. They play real tunes, that - if there was any good taste in this world - should be what the charts are full of (except their recorded material is a totally different deal and not the same genre of foot tapping, head nodding, instant hit material). They know how to put on a simple but very effective show. And I especially like that one of the guitarists plays a Fender Jazzmaster – what fine taste…

I saw them play last weekend in a very hot field at the Humber Bridge Bash – the 25th anniversary of Hull’s very own white elephant (which is rather special in terms of magnitude, but is really pretty useless in most other ways, other than for going to see Jenny And Jason and perhaps getting one of those fine Barton Upon Humber curries. I did sit under it in my car late one night a couple of months ago, that was quite good too. Good for being depressed by, maybe because I felt it could empathise).

Oh my how it looks different in the sun...

OK, so Hull is not exactly a city that lines up great achievements, monuments, attractions and cultural diversity. But it has been a good home and home to many a good friend over the years. One day no doubt I will move on and wherever I go, there are good times to look back on. However it will always be the case that it only costs £1 to cross the Thames at the Dartford crossing (should I want to get to, say, France via the ferry crossing, or perhaps just Kent, the Garden of England), yet at the same time it costs me £2.70 to cross the Humber (so that I can get to, say, Scunthorpe).

And it would only take me 20 minutes longer to go via Goole...

At least it was a fine excuse for some quite loud music.

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about me

Weeks and months turn into years and who knows what surprises a new day will bring? As shelves fill with more songs, dust collects, memories accumulate and we pass through the lives of others, sometimes pausing, sometimes pulling up a chair, sometimes moving on. Thinking that tomorrow is going to be like yesterday. What do we know? I just like words and pictures, so why make excuses for collecting those either? But some things will never change, the sad songs will always be the best ones.

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