I couldn’t work out which blog to write.

One was about the Penlee Lifeboat Disaster in 1981. The bravery of the crew of the lifeboat Solomon Browne who went to the aid of the stricken coaster Union Star. The crew understood the danger themselves to the extent that no two men from the same family were allowed on the call-out. In the end, sixteen lives were lost - the eight-strong lifeboat crew, five members of the Union Star crew, and three passengers - the Union Star captain’s wife and daughters.

Another blog was about the power of the folk music tradition. I was alerted to the story by the song Solomon Browne by Seth Lakeman who we went to see on Tuesday. Along with virtuoso violin and mandolin playing, Mr. Lakeman tells stories. Proper stories of real events. When in Dartmoor last autumn, we visited Jay’s Grave and Childe’s Tomb, both of which inspired Lakeman songs.

Yet another blog was about charity. Having a (retired) sea-faring father, one of my pet charities has always been the RNLI - they’re fixed on my Give As You Earn list for as long as I am in employment. I was pleased to see RNLI collectors at the Seth Lakeman gig, since it’s also his pet charity. And not forgetting a certain Mr. Omally who, I believe also does the odd thing for them such as biking round every single lifeboat station in Britain or something like that.

And all the time, I hadn’t yet read Scott J’s blog, November Witch, about another song-inspiring marine disaster.

As is common nowadays, I’m not sure where I’m going with this, other than to say… if you see fit, have a listen to Solomon Browne, read the story of the disaster, spend a few minutes thinking about the bravery of the lifeboat crews, and if you have the means, give a quid or two to the RNLI next time you pass a box.

We went up to Newcastle at the weekend, visiting pals - mine on Saturday and H’s on Sunday. Coincidentally they all live about 5 minutes down the road from each other.

I’ve been to Newcastle several times, but never down to the waterfront. It’s rather nice, you know.

I innocently asked if it was still Newcastle on the other side and was shot down with several versions of “Absolutely not. That’s Gateshead. We don’t talk about it.”

But anyway… we wandered along to the millenium bridge, and across it, and I promise I am not making this up…

Within 10 minutes of arriving in Gateshead I’d seen walls daubed in obscenities, semi-decayed animals, a burnt-out and overturned car, more body bags than I’ve ever seen before in my life, and around 20 defaced statues.

Fortunately, they were just some of the exhibits in the Baltic Art Gallery.

The widescreen aesthetic has now completely entered the public psyche, as evidenced by my sighting this morning of my first 16:9 For Sale* board…

So long, Golden Ratio and thanks for all the fish.

(* yes, I know it says ’sold’, but I still maintain that it’s a For Sale board)

I hereby award 10 points to The Guillemots for preserving the art of dynamic range on their album Through The Windowpane.

In this world of iPods in noisy environments, it’s so tempting for bands to compress their dynamic range to an unexpressive plateau. However, this album has some real adrenaline surging crescendos.

I think Karen should have won. Her ability to make the bassoon come alive is astounding.

Sophie seemed just a little overly precocious and immature, and while I loved Ian’s non-playing personality, he didn’t do anything for me with his music.

Hopefully someone reading this knows what I’m on about.

Here’s a simple question with, I daresay, no simple answer…

Is it harder to play a piano than a violin or flute?

Since the age of around 8, I haven’t played to music on any ‘monophonic’ instrument, so I don’t really know what I’m talking about, but here are some factors I’ve been taking into account…

1) Strings and brass generally have one line of music - ok, violins can be double-stopped, but there are, I guess, no instances where you have to simultaneously read 10 different notes. Piano is much harder.

2) The piano has one finger per note. Brass and wind instruments can require a strange sequence of fingers (and breath control) to reach a certain note. Piano is easier.

3) Non-fretted strings have an infinite continuum of notes available - put your finger in the wrong place and your note is sharp or flat. Piano is easier.

4) String and wind players need to always be conscious of not running out of breath or bow. Piano is easier.

5) The range of expression on wind and strings is greater than that of the piano. A piano can be played louder or softer, along with a couple of other factors involving half-pedalling and phrasing. Wind and strings can produce, in addition to those, all manner of tone colours. Piano is slightly easier.

So… I guess the question is… do factors 2 to 5 balance out factor 1? Are any of my assumptions incorrect? Does anyone play anything who can offer an insight to just how hard it is?

And where do guitars fit in this?

Very good. See it.

ps. Goats!

pps. Yes, it’s a film.

You know how films often have a theatrical cut, and then later the longer director’s cut comes out?

Well, having watched The Wiz again last night, it finally dawned what was required…

The Bearable Cut.

With two out of every three songs removed, and the final half hour condensed into one minute. And removing the gratuitous bored babies who are dressed as stars.

It’s actually a really great film, with some funny moments (intended or not) - but by god does it drag once the emerald city is reached.

As found on Roger the blogger’s “Blog Roger” blog, this is a really neat tune made entirely from Windows sounds.

Breaking Windows

Reminds me of the track I made in 2002 when I wanted a Rainbow TV theme, but had only just installed my new PC… so, like Ms. O’Kneel’s track, I only had the default Windows samples to play with…

winRainbow

It’s nowhere near as accomplished as the former, though. Plus, I guess I cheated a little with chopping up the samples themselves.

We were discussing this after watching Transformers the other night… what is it nowadays with too-long films? Has the art of editing been lost? Fitting your story into a reasonable time is a real art-form, and I wonder if directors now are just lazy. What do you think?

I should note that maybe I’m biased - one of my favourite films of all time is just 11 minutes long; the previously blogged One Minute Past Midnight.