Blackbridge is very proud to announce that over the past year we’ve recycled approximately 430kg of paper and 20kg of cans & plastic bottles, thus saving the equivalent of 4 trees and 600 kWh of energy! Well done team! Let’s keep up the green work, be carbon smart and maybe even hug a tree!

I’m sure it is simply a matter of time before Blogbridge has a similar problem, but I was amazed to read over the weekend that the website selling tickets for the Led Zeppelin reunion show crashed under the strain of something like 234,345,994,232 hits - I suspect that the touts outside will be charging a similar number of pennies. All that aside, sounds like great fun and will no doubt be a worthy tribute to Ahmet Ertegun. Reading that obituary again, it is still amazing to see the roster of artists on Ertegun’s Atlantic label and despite Aretha Franklin and Ray Charles, my favourite of the Atlantic soul artists (albeit on the ATCO imprint) would be the late Donny Hathaway; hopefully, his name drop in Amy Winehouse’s ‘Rehab’ might make a few more people seek out his albums - I’d start with the simply wonderful ‘Donny Hathaway Live’, it’s the business.

As for the Zep, I fear that in the same way a somewhat reckless evening at the Vermont Exchange in Cobham, Surrey circa 1990 has turned me against Southern Comfort, a few too many listenings to Led Zeppelin’s first four albums in my younger days has inoculated me against their charms. Or could it be Robert Plant’s voice? The drum solos? All the stuff about hobbits and elves? Or even the guy I went to university with who proudly wore a leather jacket with the words to the final part of ‘Stairway to Heaven’ on the back? Who is to say? I quite like ‘Kashmir’ though.

I spent some of the weekend indulging in some proper geekery. I’m not sure if it makes a great deal of difference unless your ears are tuned in to this sort of thing, but recently, I’ve been reading a lot about so-called ‘needle drop’ CDRs being circulated of sixties albums, especially those by the Beatles. The theory goes that the early CD versions of their catalogue were mucked about with considerably in an attempt to make them sonically ‘better’ and more suited to the medium; subsequently, the CD versions have been consistently taken from these sources and don’t accurately reflect the original sound of the records, leaving aside the whole mono/stereo dilemma. A mysterious fellow called Dr Ebbetts has made probably the best known, but there have been CDRs of recreated Beatles albums knocking about on the interweb for a while and I passed a happy couple of hours *ahem* finding out more about them. So basically, one finds pristine copies of the original LPs and then records them on like super-duper equipment before presumably doing a bit of digital jiggery-pokery (this is the technical term) to make them sound more akin to what Sir George Martin and the white coated boffins in Abbey Road intended. I’m not sure if my Mac is quite the high-end sound equipment one needs to appreciate them and I’ve got all the records anyway. Basically, I need to get out more.

That said, mercifully there won’t be any geekery tonight as I’m off to watch Arsenal play Sevilla in the Champions League. While it won’t be Arsenal’s most heated game in the last week, I have a grudge against Seville as while on holiday there a few years ago I slipped while getting out of the bath and really bruised my leg. The very impressive cathedral and a great deal of tapas compensated, but I can’t help but be bitter towards the city and it’s damn bathrooms floors. Do it for me, chaps.

It’s funny how certain brands fall in and out of favor with the fickle mistress of fashion. There was a time when wearers of Gieves and Hawkes smoked nothing more than Old Holborn. Now, of course, with a youthful diffusion line, the Marlboro ultra-menthol-extra light has replaced the meerschaum no doubt. Or something more chemically ‘interesting’. There was also time when the only time you’d see a YSL logo was four seconds before the wearer of a lurid polo shirt with the classic Yves logo emblazoned on the chest pummeled you for looking at his bird ‘funny’ at a Fulham game. Now, Yves Saint Laurent is back. And cooler than ever, apparently. Serious tailoring (with commensurately stern prices) abound, which fits in with the Dior renaissance of lean shapes that only really look good on gangly youths and heroin addicts. But they’re not the only ones to be back in the limelight.

Lanvin, Aquascutum and even Daks, perennials of your uncle’s wardrobe are back with a vengeance. The one thing that ties them all together? The guest designer. Simply take a tired old brand that nobody would touch with a clothes peg and haul in the arriviste with big ideas and a dash of zeitgeist. Gucci set the trend with Tom Ford. Givenchy before Galliano? Forget it. Christina Dior was dead on its feet before it found renewed vigor in the shape of Hedi Slimane. And now Galliano again.

So, it’s no accident that Aquascutum has teamed up with the coolest man on Savile Row, Nick Hart. His label is affectionately named after his son Spencer Hart and boasts some of the world’s most admired leading men as clientele. His temple of all things ridiculously cool houses some of the most achingly beautiful and refreshingly simple clothes and man could wish for. Roped in to invigorate the ailing bastion of English gloom, latterly known for its tragic Japanese golfing outfits, he’s done a great job. After all, guest designers always get a great deal of creative freedom, alongside what I would imagine is a not inconsiderable salary. My wife bought me one of his suits for my birthday and it makes me look thinner, with less of a stoop and bigger shoulders. That makes him a bloody genius in my book.

The coolest tailor in the world right now (accordingly to everyone who wears a lot of black in Manhattan) is a guy called Thom Brown. And the least fashionable store in the USA, nay world, is Brookes Bros. His new collection, entitled Black Fleece, for the purveyors of Harvard standards and stalwart Americana suiting is going to be the true test of talented guest designer vs. hideous brand. Where do you draw the line, though? Will the Madonna collection for H&M be followed by The Klaxon’s range of headbands specially designed for a relaunch of C&A? Who knows? I’m just biding my time in the knowledge that, one-day, my Matalan tracksuit will rise again as the coolest thing in my wardrobe, under the expert guidance of guest designer Karl Lagerfeld. Perhaps.

There has been a distinct lack of my cultural runnings on Blogbridge recently, but hopefully, that will remain an isolated blip.

I’ve been spending some of that time reading ‘the Book of Dave’ by Will Self. It’s been a struggle, but I’m starting to get there. To explain, the story is party based in a very strange London of the future and large parts of the book are written in ‘mockni’, a dialect based on the lingo used by the long deceased taxi driver who provides the book’s title. So, “ware2guv” is the traditional greeting, day and night are called “tariffs” a meal is called “curry”… There’s a dictionary at the back which helps, but I’ve been trying to avoid it. You certainly wouldn’t describe it as light reading, but I suspect it will repay the effort you put in.

It has certainly made me look at London cabbies in a different light; my favourite run-in with a taxi driver ended up with him offering to break my legs for me, though I declined with thanks. It was all down to a conversation about the anti-war demonstrations which led to an anecdote about Douglas Bader which he took offence to. I ended up on Holborn which was half way to where I was going, but fortunately with legs intact.

On that subject, there’s that famous film about taxi drivers and several songs too. He’s spent a lot of time in London recently, but I’m not sure if Prince has met too many female cab drivers but who can forget Bob James’ theme to ‘Taxi’? “Do do do do-do do do do do do do…” The latter song was sampled by West Coast rappers the Souls of Mischief on ‘Cabfare’ but not sure if that every came out legally *ahem*… Plus, Jens Lekman - no, not that one - had a song on his last album called ‘Black Cab’ which I liked, there was also one called with alarming synchronicity - ‘I Saw Her at the Anti-war Demonstration’, based around the Ben K King sung and Phil Spector produced ‘Spanish Harlem’.

Talking of Spector, there’s an Arena documentary about him which is due to come out once his trial finishes, am looking forward to that - I got the ‘Back to Mono’ boxset for Christmas when I was about 17 from my wise and patient father and I’ve never stopped loving it, Mr Spector’s personal life aside. Wish I still had my ‘Back to Mono’ badge.

And finally, as mentioned by Jocelyn below, I find myself considerably richer since my last WCR - that wager on Brian winning Big Brother (as recommended on the 17th of July) was a good move. It leaves my blog considerably up on our betting tips - he was at 7-1 then - and I think I may retire with a glorious 100% success record. Taxi!

This is coming a few days late, but I just wanted to share my enthusiasm of Big Brother’s finale. I figured from the start Brian would win, but you obviously can never count on anything. Especially since I’m slowly learning the ways of the English mentality and feelings on what makes good television (as it’s a whole lot different in America). I have this feeling that the twins would never have made it very far in America, as they were just so annoying, and, well, PINK! Anyways, that’s besides the point of this.

He was so thick, but oh so lovable. The very fact that he called Shakespeare, ‘Some geezer who directed some movie called Romeo and Juliet,’ made me (for some unexplainable reason) love him more. I had no idea people, especially anyone English, didn’t know who Shakespeare was. Well, at least he knew who The Streets were. I loved him running around the house after he was left alone to soak in the glory of his win. So classically Brian - always pacing (just this time, at a much more rapid speed!).

This was my first time watching any Big Brother, so I’ve been recently broken in, but I loved it.

And on another note, I lament with all those in London having to deal with the Metronet strike. My friend summed it up best: ‘It was an absolute nightmare this morning. I’d rather stick a dull fork in my eye then deal with this ever again.’ Me too. Here’s hoping it gets sorted sooner than Friday morning…