Jack Vs. Nokia

I'm a bit weird when it comes to new Technology...I love it and I loathe it.

When it comes to gadgets I'm just another stereotypical guy, I love them. I own a Samsung Series 9 laptop which when new two years ago was top of the line; with at least 10 TB of external storage and too many PC peripherals to list. I have an Xbox 360 with a plethora of games and several control pads, including a Street Fighter 4 branded arcade stick. I have a Canon DSLR camera with a multitude of lenses. I have four pairs of headphones, one pair being wireless. Last but not least and bringing us onto the topic of conversation I have mobile phone; a Nokia Lumia 800 in black with a blue soft gel silicone case. I absolutely love it.
 

The Nokia Lumia 800 with Windows OS.

I have been a Nokia user my entire cellular life. My grandfather bought me my introductory Nokia on my 13th birthday, the 5110 handset, back in 1998. From there I steadily progressed through the cellular ranks; spending time with the illustrious sliding action of the Nokia 7110 that featured in the 1999 blockbuster 'The Matrix', the Nokia 3210 which was one of the first mobile phones to feature interchangeable covers, the  Nokia 8310 with it's innovative FM radio feature and aesthetically pleasing white backlit display.

After the 8310 I forget the model numbers, a period of cellular amnesia clouds my mind. This trend of forgetful Nokia's continued for some years, with the only noticeable improvements being increased phone camera competency and a new colour version of Snake. That is until the mnemonic release of the Nokia N95 in 2007 and the release of the legendary N97 a year or so later. It was at this technological precipice that my love for Nokia blossomed once again.

The Nokia N97

The N97 was my first smart phone, it was bought for me as a birthday present in 2009, the year of my departure to Holland. I have to say I did want the lightning silver version but it was the most desirable and constantly out of stock, I made do with a black one as pictured above.

The N97 was Nokia's second phone with touchscreen functionality, it had a slide out QWERTY keyboard, 32GB of internal disk space and featured the almost now defunct Symbian OS. Despite the phones many criticisms I used and abused it for 31 months replacing it only at the point of cataclysm, in January 2012, for my Lumia 800. I still hold the polyvinyl carcass in my room and I'm convinced that with fuel in it's battery it would start upon request. I lament my N97 but all good things must come to an end...

Let's go back to my Lumia 800.

Nokia at it's peak were renowned for producing the toughest and most durable mobile phones in the industry. Unfortunately this trend did not transcend to the smart phone generation beyond the Nokia N series. My Lumia 800 for example, after only a few months of use refused to charge. The painful process of taking it to the Nokia repair shop here in Singapore at Vivo City ensued and eventually I got a fully functioning phone back free of charge. After several more months of use the same issue befell me. This time however I did all I could not to go back to Vivo; this included charging my phone upside down and my adding weight to the cable as it lay in the charging port forcing the connection. For several months this worked and I had very limited inconvenience, but after a while the inevitable happened and I had to venture back to Nokia for a repair, my tail firmly stuck between my legs.

Several months after the second fix the phone broke again, the exact same charging issue being the problem. I took it back to Nokia only to be told that my warranty had expired and a fix to a reoccurring problem would cost me several hundred Singapore dollars.

My reaction as Nokia told me my phone was out of warranty and a fee would be charged...

I controlled my anger very well, hardly raising my voice at the customer service guy. I explained to him my dedication to Nokia throughout the years and that in a world of Apple and Samsung that brand ambassadors such as myself are rarities. Armed with this information he briefly decamped to consult with his superior. Upon his return he informed me that due to my brand loyalty he would perform a one-off out of warranty service on my phone for no charge. The consumer was victorious.

Two weeks after collecting my third repair the unspeakable happened,  the phone once again refused to charge. I did some resourceful Google searches and found that it was a well known trait of the Lumia 800 to refuse to charge, it also seems that Nokia refused to fix the problem opting instead for a replacement model, the Lumia 820. Armed with this fact and the eminent bank account deduction necessary to fix my phone for the fourth time I decided to vent my frustrations in an email to Nokia, for the hell of it I copied in Mr. Stephen Elop, the CEO of the company.

The email was long, florid and overly passionate. It was a vessel to both vent my frustrations of the repeating affair but also to illustrate my commitment over the years to a company now fighting to survive. The email at times verged on pornographic as I listed precious moments from my life where a Nokia had been used. I admit it the attempt to pull on corporate heartstrings was intentional but not nefarious. I am seldom loyal to any brand, I'm as price sensitive a consumer as most, but for some strange reason I am emotionally attached to Nokia. I'm attached to it's beautifully crafted products of polycarbonate and shaped glass, this Finnish organization has stolen my heart through both aesthetics and functionality. This is why I put so much passion into my email and I got the response I was after.

Several days later I received a reply directly from Mr. Elop apologizing for the issues I'd experienced with my Lumia handset, promising to resolve them, but unfortunately not admitting he and his company were aware of this common technical fault I had so elaborately detailed in my email. In his reply email he copied in several people whose names I immediately googled. He had copied in the big boys, the head of R&D, the head of customer care and global communication. Less than one hour later after receiving the initial reply I received a barrage of emails from Nokia customer care requesting information. In the final email I was informed I would receive a box fresh free replacement Lumia 800 handset and that my current handset would be used for 'thorough analysis'. I also received notification of the above, in writing, which I will keep as a trophy to the voice of the consumer.

Consumer Power - If you don't like it let them know about it!

I still love my Lumia and I still love my Windows OS. Yes, it doesn't have as many 'apps' as Apple or Samsung but I don't care. I'm just not an app guy. I don't want to know how many G's I'm doing round a corner in a taxi cab or take blurry photos with Instagram. I don't want to book a restaurant at the touch of a button or play engine noises from my phone. I just want something that's aesthetically pleasing, I want something functional, something durable, with the basic features of a smartphone such as web browsing and music playing. I'm good with owning something not made by the market leaders. I'm good with my Nokia.

This exercise was important for me and not just because I got a free phone as a result. It was important for me as a consumer not to be robbed of my hard earned money and not to be mistreated by the big corporations. Yes, my victory will not change the world, it is but a drop in the big corporate ocean, but to quote Adam Ewing from Cloud Atlas "What is an ocean but a multitude of drops?

A brief encounter of the Australian kind

So my roommate Enrique currently has two of his friends staying over. Madhava and Onion 'aka Sam' from Australia have been here for the last two days. They are embarking on an epic voyage of adventure across Asia with Russia and Europe as final destinations. They will be bombarded by humidity, colour and culture. They start in Singapore and will venture next into the Kingdom of Wonder, Cambodia. Part 3 will see them bus it from Siem Reap to Bangkok where they will enjoy the accomplishments of Thailand. From Thailand they travel east again and spend some time in the 13th most populous country in the world, Vietnam. After they have enjoyed some pho and spent some dong they will travel  into the Peoples Republic of China before venturing into Mongolia. From Mongolia the Aussie wanderers will hit Russia before venturing down into Europe, final destination being Deutschland - where they will stay, work and live for the foreseeable future.

Like digital boy scouts they are going fully equipped; with GoPro's, DSLR, iPods, Solar Powered speakers (that daisy chain) deodorant and underwear. They are going to have such an amazing time, despite their sacrifices it will be a trip even without documenting will stay etched in their memories forever. Even though Madhava is bit on the intense side for me when he has a drink in him, I wish I was going with them.

On the second night, Madhava, a big fan and long time advocate of drum & bass music brought his iPod out to entertain the apartment. Redeeming himself from his earlier misdemeanor of playing Hip Hop he dropped a selection of crowd pleasing High Contrast tracks, subliminally knowing I adore Hospital Records and all analogous material. We had some serious apartment wide frat house like 'bromance' listening to an assortment of liquid drum & bass drinking beer into the early hours. I wish them all the best on their trip, Enrique will join then for Cambodia and Thailand and I echo my previous comment - I really wish I was going with them. Have an awesome time guys, be safe, roll before you rock and all that jazz - I'll see you on the flip side.

This track is for you guys, and yes Concord Dawn are Kiwi :)

22 and Chinese

So last week it was The Chen's birthday, on the 22nd July she turned the tender age of 22. Being merely an infant in the adult world I often observe in her, with awe and adoration, maturity far beyond her years, something which at 22 I did not possess.

Even as a modern day man I have to say that I regularly display traits associated with neanderthals. One issue I perpetually face is 'the struggle' in identifying what gifts to buy for women on those gift giving special occasions, especially for one as multifarious as my Chen. This year I resolved to venture out of my immediate comfort zone of the usual suspects; flowers, chocolates and scented accessories and decided to buy her a clothes, dresses to be precise. I did not venture into this battle with insufficient ammunition, I sourced some vital information from a close friend of hers and with this firepower I was confident the gifts would be a stunning success and that I would be revered as the worlds best boyfriend, even if only for a day. She has a very esoteric taste in fashion, one day opting for the web based indie designer nobody knows and the next opting for your high street favourite.

Do you think she loved them? Well yes and no, out of five dresses she liked two. Her favourite birthday gift was a second-hand handbag, a metallic baguette bag finished in brushed aluminum.

As part of her birthday celebrations she asked me if she could hold a gathering at my place with a few of her close friends. Having not hosted a party for a while me and my roommates were overflowing with enthusiasm to anchor an alcohol fueled festivity in our little apartment.

Happy Birthday Huangyi!

I invited Enrique and Orlando (my roommates), Claudio and his wonderful fiance Grace. Enrique invited his colleague Joe, who is as English as they come, on the premise that there would be young single girls aplenty. Joe is struggling to find a girlfriend here and Enrique is pretty good at playing cupid.

The party at its crest consisted of approximately 20 people, rather a small party but our house parties now centre on quality rather than quantity. After bulging parties where douche bags prevail we're now fastidious on quality these days. The birthday bash was as cosmopolitan as they come, as most parties in Singapore are, with guests stemming from Mexico, England, China, South Africa, Italy, Malaysia, The US, Singapore Australia and even as far wind as Belarus. It was a rainbow of culture.

Each person was asked to bring drinks and snacks, with the majority being of internship age little was expected but much was delivered. From half full bottles of Jim Beam and Honey and lukewarm cans of Carlsberg to 2004 vintages of Moet Chandon and 18 years old Single Malt, the bottle drop was a massive success. Covering all eventualities by working for the Big D, myself and Claudio ensured the party would be a success with colossal amounts of Scotch.

The Johnnie Walker Ensemble from a blurry 50mm.

The party started off slow. The Facebook event stipulating the party commenced at 8pm, the guests, naturally not wanting to lock socially inept started arriving around 9pm. By 10.30pm the party was in full swing, pockets of people deep in alcohol fueled conversation saturated every corner of the apartment, a daft punk soundtrack filled the gaps of speech. The black IKEA table at the centre of the apartment was over encumbered with white plastic bowls full of potato chips and bottles of half filled liquor. The smokers detached themselves to the balcony, leaving the doors to outside slightly ajar the smell of Marlboro lights bit into the air conditioned solace of the apartment.

The Mexican having fun at the over encumbered table

It was a really (really) fantastic little party, there was just a beautiful vibe to it, an exemplary portrayal of humanity. I danced through the pockets of people as I tried to mingle with everyone and take a bite of each conversation. I spent a lot of my time just people watching; the sofa seemed to attract the girls, sitting in batches of 2 to 5 having jovial conversations with smiles always painted across their faces. The balcony, the home of the smokers, was where the drunken D&M's (deep and meaningful conversation) were happening. Topics from the strength of each others currency to the political dominance of Cambodian prime minister Hun Sen were discussed with passion. The black IKEA table was where the most mingling was happening, maybe because the chips and the liquor were stationed there, a plethora of conversations filled the air. The kitchen, with the lights off, was home to the lovers. I took The Chen into the kitchen for a bit of a kiss and cuddle at the start of the party but the main tenant was Joe and his new found attraction, no names I promise.

By around 2am the party was almost extinguished, some key players responsible for fueling the party had left and we were at risk of a premature end. I decided to make a drastic decision, I added logs to the fire, I unleashed the Baijiu.

Chinese White Spirits (Baijiu) from the Shui Jing Fang distillery in Chengdu.
62% ABV devastation.

A quick Wikipedia lesson...

Baijiu is a Chinese distilled alcoholic beverage. The name baijiu literally means "white liquor", "white alcohol" or "white spirits". Baijiu is often translated as "wine" or "white wine". However, it is actually a distilled liquor, generally about 40–60% alcohol by volume (ABV).

Baijiu is a clear drink usually distilled from sorghum, although sometimes other grains may be used; baijiu

Because of its clarity, baijiu can appear similar to several other liquors, but generally has a significantly higher ABV than, for example, Japanese shōchū (25%) or Korean soju (20–45%).

The last sentence is the most important. This stuff is rocket fuel and not to be taken lightly. 62% ABV. One caveat however is the taste, as you can probably imagine it's not going to taste like strawberries however you also probably underestimate how bad it tastes. It tastes like liquid trash which makes it very difficult to hold down after taking a shot. The good news is that nobody vomited and twenty minutes after the Baijiu came out to play the party picked up. The Chinese liquor acted as liquid fuel for the guests, sustaining them until the sun came up.

The following day I sat with Enrique on the sofa, smiles across our faced, a beer in hand to nurse the hangover and we cogitated about the success of the party while basking in the afterglow one gets after hosting such an awesome evening such as that.

Thank you very much to everyone who came, thank you for taking care of our apartment - only two glasses smashed. One final note; Chen, I hope you had a wonderful birthday my dear I promise I'll get better at the gifting agenda for next year, I love you very much.

Croissants, Foie Gras and Marketing - Paris, France

So I mentioned in my Christmas post that my wonderful Chen went off to study in January. As part of a student exchange program she packed her bags and headed for Paris, for 5 months of  croissants, foie gras and marketing. In March I packed my bags and took a flight for a sojourn with her in the city of bourgeois and romance. 

This is my story of the beautiful disaster that ensued.

Paris from the Arc De Triomphe

Jouy-En-Josas

Paris is a metropolis of culture, in 2011 the city attracted 39 million tourists to it's ancient city streets. The municipality of Paris contains a plethora of attractions for all tastes. From the Louvre Museum (which is the most visited Museum in the world) to the iron colossus that is The Eiffel Tower and all that lies in between. However not all of Paris is culturally equal; In the south-western suburbs of Paris lies the blanc village of Jouy-En-Josas, in all it's narcoleptic glory. This village is home to a supermarket, a mediocre pseudo-Italian restaurant, a delicatessen that never opens (I'm assured is still operational) and some tarmac, you can see where I'm going with this right? Almost cut off from the rest of the world with it's shockingly bad public transport connections Jouy-En-Josas also plays host to the world famous Hautes études commerciales de Paris or HEC Paris; a leading European business school. This is where The Chen chose to do her studies, and this was my first stop upon arriving in France.

To this day I'm constantly assured that the education they provide at this run down American copy cat institute is top class, as are it's facilities. One day, hopefully Chen will get a top end marketing job in one of those aristocracy companies and bring in big money, then I will admit defeat and accept HEC as the best. Until then I remain highly pessimistic. While visiting my darling Chen we unfortunately had to spend most of our time here, on the bright side it didn't cost me a penny in accommodation and I was free to indulge in my little friends I couriered across from Amsterdam (had to make a pit-stop preemptive to France, wasn't sure how many museums we'd be visiting you see).

The only two positive things I can say about Jouy was 1) The Chen was there and 2) Versailles was close. That's really it.

Versailles Train Station - Voie J

Croissants, Foie Grois and The Bourgeois

Thankfully in the five or so days I was there we did make the perilous journey from Versailles to the centre of Paris. In France's capital we did some gentle sightseeing but we primarily made the journey for food and les boissons - it's the reason you go to Paris right? - for Croissants, Foie Grois and to be bourgeois.

1) Le Tour De Eiffel

A little history for you, The Eiffel Tower is the landmark of not only Paris but France itself. Named after it's architect Gustave Eiffel It's colossal structure is 1,063ft tall, it's wrought iron lattice frame weighs in at a massive 10,000 tonnes. Construction began in 1887 and took only two years to complete opening to the public in 1889. The Eiffel tower received it's 250 Millionth visitor in 2010. The beacon of France is extremely impressive at night with it's illuminated yellow hues visible miles across the city, on Bastille Day it acts as a launch pad for a spectacular fireworks display.

Compulsory Picture of The Eiffel Tower @ Night

Right next to The Eiffel Tower, street address Quai Branly 63 there is a wonderfully fanciful little brasserie "Brasserie de la Tour Eiffel". After walking from the Arc de triomphe to the Eiffel tower and admiring the iron beast for a few moments we were in desperate need of Parisian refreshments. We called into this place on a total off-chance, we ordered wine, the house red as recommended by the waiter who spoke splendid English with only a slight whiff of the strong Parisian accent. The wine was good, very good. One large glass later we found ourselves appetent for more. Several hours passed, day faded into night with glass after glass (consistent large glasses I must add) being effortlessly devoured. Needless to say we became exorbitantly drunk. The Chen matched me glass for glass despite being half my weight, nonetheless she still looked sensational as we glided onto our third glass.

Le beau Chinois - complete with large glass of Rouge

2) Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile

The Arc de Triomphe (Triumphant Arch) is another of Paris' colossal and eminent neoclassicism monuments. It is located at the end of one of the most well-known streets in Paris; the Avenue des Champs-Élysées. It is a monument to those who died fighting for Paris during the revolution and subsequent Napoleonic Wars.

Sick of traveling from Jouy to Paris we got a hotel for a couple of nights close by the Arc. It's tourist traffic is heavy throughout it's opening hours. If you want a hassle free photogenic visit go very early in the day. On a clear day you can get some admirable photos from the Arc's rooftop.

The Arc depicts French revolutionists (who are almost nude) against bearded Germanic soldiers

The Chen aloft the Arc

3) Champs-Élysées

With its cinemas, cafés, luxury specialty shops, chestnut trees and overall bourgeoisness (Yes I made that word up) the Champs-Élysées is arguably one of the most famous streets and one of the most expensive strips of real estate in the world. Home to flagship stores of Louis Vuitton, Christian Dior and the likes; if you are not careful with your plastic this street can become bank repossession expensive.

A walk down the Champs-Élysées is a must for any tourist

To any that know me you know I'm into designer brands as much as I'm into self harm. I'm all about life's hedonistic pleasures. Like many, one of my favourite activities of all time is eating. My sweet tooth, like a dominant allele rules my appetite, and when it comes to sweet treats France does not disappoint. Whether it be your basic sorbet or chocolat to the deliciousness of crème brûlée or meringue, French cuisine is the King of diabetes inducing desserts. On the Champs, No. 133 to be precise, tucked away in the back of a book store is the world famous Pierre Hermé. Dubbed the 'Picasso of Pastry' his stores, littered across the globe offer some of the most delicious sweet foods my taste buds have ever sampled. While not cheap, the Macaroons his stores sell are literally out of this world.

The plethora of flavours on offer in the Macaroon section will turn any grown adult into a child at the sweet store.

4) Catacombes de Paris

The Catacombs of Paris are one of the largest ossuaries in the world. The underground network of more than 200 miles of tunnels and caves are home to the skeletal remnants of more than 6 Million people. Until the early 19th century, the Catacombs had been used as a cemetery only, a depositary for bones. In 1810 Louis-Étienne Héricart de Thury who was overseeing the renovation of the tunnels arranged the stocks of femurs and skulls into the macabre spectacle on display to visitors today.

Walking through the catacombs although interesting is a sombre, extremely grim and claustrophobic experience. With a moderate walking pace a full tour talks around an hour or so but can be done much quicker if your feel uneasy upon descending into the boney depths. It's around 10 euros to enter the unsettling underground, but unsurprisingly the catacombs doesn't get as crowded as some of the other museums and tourist attractions of the city.

Some of the skeletal arrangements are gruesomely artistic in the Catacombs.

The tomb of the hospital doorkeeper, Philibert Aspairt, lost in the catacombs in 1793 and found 11 years later, is located in the catacombs on the spot where his body was found. Today the catacombs not only play host to tourists from all over the world they also are the home for many underground illegal parties, this is enabled by the many secret entrances into the tunnels under the French capital.

 The Food

Ok, so now that all the 'must-do' touristy stuff is out of the way I can talk about my favourite subject again; food.

Paris, like many other 'cultural' capitals of the world is famous for it's cuisine.With this comes a perception that every restaurant in Paris is spectacular, that they all serve taste bud exploding haute cuisine - this is most certainly not true. In my stint in France with The Chen we sampled almost a different restaurant every evening spending hundreds and hundreds of Euros looking for this haute cuisine that is supposed to be so prominent all over France. Like silly tourists we fell for this misconception and most of that money spent was wasted, it would have been better spent in McDonalds or KFC. We did however with thanks to a couple of locals find two absolute gems.

1) Au Pied de Fouet

Located at 3, rue saint Benoit, 75006 Paris, this little restaurant is so emphatically French that as I entered I had to stop myself from saying Ooh La La. Quaint, compact and charming, the layout inside reminded me of many restaurants of Amsterdam. It wasn't only the interior of this restaurant that was compact, the menu was restrained too which was not a bad thing. I hate going into a restaurant and seeing five dishes I want, it's a recipe for making you fat. I don't recall exactly what I had, all I remember is that it was a signature beef dish served with warm creamy mashed potatoes and lashings of rustic french bread. The Chen got their signature duck confit. We washed both down with rivers of delicious house wine.

Au Pied de Fouet - Foot Whip according to Google Translate :)

The food was superb as was the wine. The service was typically European and the seating arrangement was strange, a norm in French restaurants maybe - you share your table with other couples / families. Less intimate than I would have liked but the final tally was very reasonable - Great french food and wine for two with a unique dining experience for less than 100 euros.

2) Le Village À Neuilly

After asking our Hotel receptionist to book us a table at one of the top Trip advisor restaurants in Paris

at short notice, we were obviously unsuccessful. Upon viewing our disappointment the very nice gentleman at reception recommended us a restaurant; Le Village À Neuilly. A small brasserie on the outskirts of the City Centre. My immediate concern was that this guy was paid commission to redirect haute hungry tourists to this failing emblem of French cuisine. How happy I was to discover that my concerns were so far away from the truth.

Table pour deux @ Le Village

The restaurant is a favourite amongst locals, we were the only tourists in the place. The head waiter who's English was impeccable attended to our needs personally with gusto and charisma.

To start we ordered a portion of the Scallops and a plate of Foie Grois on toast. The scallops were large and served on sea shells bathing in a hot garlic sauce, you got four per serving - an ample portion even for a strapping lad like myself. The Foie Grois was rich and delicious, an outrageous portion served on a wooden plate, accompanied by two slices of perfectly booked brown bread coated in southwest France home made spices.

For main we both ordered the Steak, 400 gram cuts of Hereford Prime beef, delivered to our table cooked to absolute perfection. The steak is served with (and my Grandmother will kill me for saying it), the best mashed potatoes I have ever eaten and lashings of french bread. We washed all of this impeccable food down with a perfectly chilled bottle (or two) of Sancerre which was reasonably priced at 35 euros a bottle. With no room for dessert the bill came to a more than acceptable 130 euros, that was with two bottles of wine.

We visited this restaurant twice during a three day stint in Paris itself and I have to say the next time I visit this city the first thing I will do is make another reservation here.

In summary, although bank account emptying expensive I thoroughly enjoyed my trip to Paris. I got to spend five days straight with The Chen, I got to experience Paris outside of Disneyland, I got to eat the best mashed potatoes of my life and I was able to get drunk on mind bogglingly good wine. The Chen is back now in Singapore after flying through her exams. Maybe one day if we win the lottery we could live in Paris, I think she would like that and guess what? I would too.

The Road to Drum & Bass

I like to consider my music tastes eclectic, growing up I would listen to one style of music and hammer it home without most other genres interrupting my 'dedication'. My introduction to music started when I was young, my earliest recollection being in the car with my parents and being forced to listen to their music loves. There was (thankfully) no Pepper Pig when I was growing up. My Father would listen to Bruce Springsteen, Tracy Chapman, Robert Palmer and The Commitments to name but a few. To this day I still love the music of Bruce Springsteen and Tracy Chapman, the albums Born In The USA and Tracy Chapman are still some of my favourite musical depositories of all time. My Mother would listen to pop and electronic music of the 80's, namely Depeche Mode, Human League, Alison Moyet and Ace of Base to again name but a few. I believe this early exposure to electronic and rock music have paved the way for my current music tastes and influenced me more than I ever thought they would.

When I was around 13-14 I was heavily into Dance music and many of it's associated sister genres such as Trance, Techno and Happy Hardcore, generally all of which were on the tame and commercial side. I used to get quite a bit of stick for this at school as the popular boys were listening to Rage Against The Machine and At The Drive In. The guys who were not as popular as the 'A' group (but still of much vaster popularity than myself) were into Hip Hop, for this my music tastes would be mocked as 'computer noises' and other derogatory electronic nonsense by both groups. I went to a private school in the UK, classes were small in terms of the number of people, so bullying was pretty hard to get away with. This coupled with the fact I was a pretty big boy those days (vertically and horizontally) prevented me from clashing too much on music styles and kept me out of harms way.

British electronic legends 'The Prodigy', their album released in 1997 entitled "The Fat of The Land" was
an album that made regular apperances throughout my senior school years.



As I grew older and approached the final years of mandatory education my isolated love for electronic music was breached, driven mainly by exposure to rock, metal, pop-punk music which I came to love massively. My introduction into this expansive genre was subtle, happening at a slothful pace. At 16, in the common room of the final year of school it was Limp Bizkit, KoRn, Feeder and Linkin Park if I remember correctly. My immediate metal tastes also attracted much criticism but less so than the 'computer sounds' of electronica. When the formalities of school were over I went to college with the majority of my friends staying for 6th-Form, my grades were nothing spectacular and my parents didn't see the value-add in paying the exorbitant fees of a private school 6th form, fair play to them. College was one of the best things that ever happened to me even if the following text paints a different picture to you the reader, it freed me from the bondage of uniforms and archaic formalities that private school had begrudgingly installed on me for the last 11 years. I was free.

I went to the City of Sunderland College, the old venerable Bede building on Hilton road in Sunderland. Only two fellow private school boys joined me at the college, both good friends of mine - a guy called Adam and a long term friend I'd since by single digit age days called Peter. Adam was to heavily influence the development of my music tastes. As an outgoing individual I quickly bonded with a big group of people from a variety of backgrounds and from a variety of locations amongst the suburbs of the city. As a collective rock music and its related genres were the predominant choices of musical taste. We spent almost every waking hour together as a group; in classes, outside of college and in the chasms that were lunch breaks and free periods. During these three years (I failed my first year miserably and had to re-sit) my love for 'Heavy Metal' music as the older generations call it grew massively.

 I went further and further down the rabbit hole that is Metal and branched out into all sorts of weird and wonderful sub-genre from Scandinavian Black Metal to American Thrash Metal of the 80's. I became musically overwhelmed by the breadth of the different styles of metal and it began consuming me. I was reading books on Black Metal that detailed the origins and culture of the genre, reading about satanic rituals and suicides of influential musicians that inspired countless souls. I was spending every penny of my disposable income on music paraphernalia such as posters, CD's and T-shirts, at one point my collection of Music T's outnumbered by 'normal' clothes 4 to 1. I didn't cut my hair for a period of four years convincing myself that long hair could be cool and when tamed sophisticated at the same time. I began wearing long leather jackets (like Keanu Reeves donned in The Matrix) and bought boots draped in material flame and spikes that came to my knees. I even began painting my nails and started the ritual of piercing parts of my body all in the image of the men and women that fronted my favourite bands.

Cradle of Filth (pictured below) became my favourite band, their posters filled the walls of my bedroom, their t-shirts filled my wardrobe, their albums filled my CD racks and their lyrics filled my head. Why did I like Cradle of Filth so much? As I mentioned earlier I attempted with earnest to fit myself under the parasol of Black Metal but to be honest, bar a few bands the genre was too extreme for me, it's not music I could listen to for more than ten minute bursts, all except Cradle. To sooth all Black Metal fans let me say loud and clear that Cradle of Filth are not Black Metal, well they used to be many many moons ago but they must have realized very early on that if they desired commercial success they needed a USP, their melodic undertones and poetic lyrics were what got me hooked.

British melodic Goth Metal giants Cradle of Filth, with front man Dani Filth (centre)

It seemed that I had been shackled at private school and as soon as I broke free I transmogrified myself into another being. From the boy who fell short of the 'B' Group at school into a neo-Gothic, 190cm tall, long haired, multi-pierced, mono-tone entity that personified the music I so adored. Well that was the idea; however with hindsight I looked embarrassingly and outrageously ridiculous. I guess at the time, it was something I just had to do and if I had the chance to go back in time and re-write my past, other than studying harder at college and smoking a little less I wouldn't change a thing.

Norway's 'Immortal' - one of the few Black Metal bands whose music still make into my auditory cortex.

After my tenure at college I went off to university, well I didn't actually go off anywhere; I stayed at home and attended my local university. I was planning to flap my wings and study away from the nest but my parents, the evil beings they were tempted me with a car if I stayed and I obliged them without complaint. Between the end of the second year of college and me starting university my membership in 'the group' had well and truly been revoked (for reasons I shall not delve into here). Other than a few close friends like Martin and the occasional stint with Adam my immediate exposure to metal music and all its metallic glory greatly diminished and I found myself again reconnoitering other genres. This is where those computer noises begin to oscillate again.

During these theory-heavy years I would use all my spare time working, this included both Saturday and Sunday as well as any free days or afternoons I had during my week. At the time I was working for my father, he had a wholesale alcoholic beverage delivery company. I would work between the office and out on the road (always preferred the road) delivering the products to customers. The latter would allow me to explore the north east of England on a daily basis, it was just me, the road, the Ford Transit van and BBC Radio 1.

It was a Friday and if I had to guess a time roughly I'd say around 4pm. It was Summer time in the UK, late July 2005. I was driving back to Sunderland from Durham, along a quiet country lane, these were the days when Edith Bowman and Colin Murray where hosting the afternoon show together on Radio 1, they were such a good combination, a duo of absolute satire. As Radio 1 DJ's they were pretty on the ball when it came to new music too, something which the station prides itself on still today. I was listening to them on the drive back when they dropped a song that pretty much single handedly got me to Drum & Bass music. That track was Slam by Pendulum.

Pendulum's 'Hold Your Colour' LP released on Breakbeat Kaos in 2005. A little bit of audio heaven.

The rest as they say is history, I still listen to Tracy Chapman and Bruce Springsteen. I sometimes indulge in a little Spandau Ballet or Human League to quash my 80's auditory tendencies. I'm still a big fan of multiple genres of metal and some of your generic dance music too but my love these days and for the past 8 years has been Drum & Bass music. It's difficult to ever imagine it changing.

As an epilogue I leave you with the below link. It's for one of my favourite Drum & Bass songs of all time, this track sums it all up nicely for you in six minutes and twenty one seconds.

London Elektricity - Just One Second (Apex Remix)

Enjoy.