Tom Wiggins, Letter Carver & Writer

Excitement is steadily building for Slow Club's appearance at Gloucester Guildhall on Thursday 26th January.  I was introduced to them by a friend at stone masonry college last year, but it was only recently that I've started to listen to Complete Surrender, their latest album.   I bought a ticket for myself and my friend Simon (of Glass Walking Stick fame) even before I knew whether or not he could go. This post is in part an appetiser for him, although it might have the opposite effect if he doesn't like their sound.   Although it isn't even afforded a title on the album and is put at the end of it almost as an afterthought, it's sung with poignancy and real heart and I think it's close to the record's finest.  

One gig to rule them all, one gig to find them,  One gig to bring them all and in the darkness bind them. Chock-full of indie youth it was, but there will come a day far, far in the future when last night's Foals gig will be a half-forgotten memory to all who attended.  Facts about the event will blend with folklore.  Some half-truths will creep in, others will creep out; events will be spun more than Alistair Campbell at a clay pot-making class.   I once heard that in the eighties, a late friend of my dad's busted Bono in the chops right up on stage.  Admittedly, the details were hazy and lacked the necessary corroboration for me to take his claim to fame seriously.  He was a drunk with a Napoleon complex so he may have just clobbered an Irishman with long hair, sunglasses and the ego the size of Kent.  The point I'm trying to make is this: spin and subjectivity is everywhere. However, spin and subjectivity can take a walk on this occa...

On the fourth day of Christmas,  the Guildhall will give to me, One Jack Bevan, One Jimmy Smith, One Walter Gervers, One Edwin Congreave, and a Yannis Philippakis. For the uninitiated, these five chaps make up Foals, NME Award Winners and floppy-haired indie rock extraordinaires.  Only the great Laura Marling can claim to have crooned more frequently in my Peugeot 206.  To come second only to the great Marling should be celebrated; such is my obsession with female singer-songwriters that if Foals' second album, Total Life Forever hadn't been so damn good, my Top Five Most Played would consist entirely of the fairer sex.  So when I found out that Foals were playing Gloucester Guildhall - a venue that is less than a mile away from where I live - I almost fell over.  My excitement was by no means an isolated incident; the county went berserk when word got around.  When tickets went on sale at the Guildhall box office, they sold out...

Jodhpur , India .  A businessman sits nervously in the back of a speeding taxi.  Its driver, himself the very picture of composure, rattles headlong through the dusty streets as if giving chase. With cool shades and a straight face, he weaves through the chaos, dodging motorbikes, auto rickshaws and…uh…livestock.  It’s every man (and beast) for himself. Tossing out the rulebook (if ever it existed), he overtakes, undertakes, slips and shimmies past certain death as casually as if it were all a video game.  But this is India , and Indian rules apply.  Meanwhile, the white-knuckled businessman lessens his grip to check his watch, mutters something under his breath, gestures to a passing threat outside. He wants to protest, but he bites his lip for the train he has to catch.  The worry is etched on his face – missing it is not an option.  Time is such that a fatal accident is the lesser evil.  His suitcases are on either side of him. The driv...

A casual stroll around town invariably involves walking past Gloucester Guildhall .   A cinema poster is always framed on either side of a very welcoming doorway, announcing the Guildhall’s current film offering and its forthcoming release.   For the more pro-active and culturally-attuned movie-goers, these films often mirror ones you were keen to see at the multiplex, but for whatever reason didn’t get around to seeing them. If, like me, you consider handing over £8 for a ticket at a multiplex somewhat disturbing, Gloucester Guildhall’s film screenings is a most excellent remedy.   And you can rest assured in the knowledge that the Guildhall will bring you something you wanted to see the first time around, acting as a sort of big screen last chance saloon. What’s more, unlike Cheltenham ’s film club, which lies on the outskirts of the town, Gloucester Guildhall’s film club is unquestionable in its convenience: just a stone’s throw from the centre.   And from this e...