A little hacked off...

11:40am Thursday 10th July 2008

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Oh yes, I can make puns on my surname too.

Before I begin this week's blog, I feel I should make a few things clear, on the basis of certain comments made about the last entry. I hadn't intended to - in general, if someone makes a comment about my blog (which, I'll grant you, is rare) I leave it alone, as of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion - but I think it's necessary to explain.

First of all, let me point out that blogs, by their very nature, are opinion-based. They represent the views of whoever is writing them. Secondly, this blog is not intended to be serious. Nor is it intended to contain anything more substantial than my general musings on life as a "newbie in the newsroom" as our online editor described me. Nor is it supposed to contain news. Nor is it supposed to reflect the content of the newspaper itself. It is in fact intended to show just how new I am at this, to make a record of the things I'm learning and (I hope) to chart my progress as I gain more experience. I was invited to write it and as long as the invitation remains open, I shall continue to do so. No one is obligated to read it, although I do appreciate that people do.

What's more, if one more person points out the connection between my surname and my job...well, I probably won't do anything but I will be quite annoyed. I did not choose my job based on my surname - I was born with this name and I don't believe in nominative determinism as my dad is a biologist.

Rant over, I'll move on.

It's been a funny old week. I was ill on Thursday, which means I've been behind by a day on more or less everything. I think I've pretty much caught up now though, so with any luck, next week will be better. I did, however, pick up one of the perks of being a journalist on Monday as I was given tickets to see Paul Heaton (remember him? He's the dude out of the Beautiful South) at the Carling Academy Islington. Which was nice.

However, I don't think I would have gone, had it not been free. While Mr Heaton is certainly a fine musician and it was what I would call a competent performance, it lacked that certain sparkle. It was just...bland. He was reading the lyrics from a sheet of paper and he just looked so utterly dead-eyed up and knackered on stage, wearing a rather naff blue cagoul. What's more, the audience was predominantly made up of middle-aged men and there was a LOT of tragic dad dancing.

The support band provided a bit of light relief in the form of chirpy Scot-pop, but sadly, while they were very enthusiastic, they were rather deficient in actual musical ability. Nevertheless, it wasn't by any means a bad gig, and anyone who liked TBS will certainly like Paul Heaton's solo stuff. It was just a little too tame for my taste.

To cheer myself up, therefore, I have this week been listening to Deerhoof. They are, shall we say, an acquired taste, but they are anything but bland.