I have a “bucket list”.  I started compiling it because it gives me a direction of things I want to achieve before I kick the bucket.  Not that I feel that my demise is imminent, but I believe in being prepared for all eventualities.  Plus, as my grandmother had a habit of saying “Regret those things that you have done, not those which you haven’t”.  A good motto to live by, surely?  Amongst other things my list has things like “go to university”, “live in another country”, “learn to play the guitar with some competence” and “go bell-ringing”.

You might think the latter is nothing of consequence, but since I was a tiny, little mini-me I have been fascinated with church bells.  I remember listening to them ringing out at my childhood church when I was very young, and seeing the long, fluffy rope that just begged to be pulled.  I could listen to the peals forever, their seemingly endless repetition of heavenly noise is nothing short of divine.  Couple that with being in an ancient, atmospheric building and you’ve got a winning combination.

Since moving down here I’ve tried to be pro-active in settling into our new community.  I tried to think of activities which might get me out and meeting people and something occurred to me.  Bell ringing.  Not knowing how to go about it I searched the internet.  Mr. VP found a link to a local group and sent them an email.  The wonderful lady he spoke to told us all about their group, how they move around to different churches, and where their next meeting would be.  We turned up to an idyllic little church in the middle of the Cambridgeshire countryside and before long were followed by the group.  Despite there only being 6 bells to ring there were about 13 people in total.  All different ages and abilities.  Someone would decide which peal they would ring (St. Clements was my favourite) and then those who wanted to ring it would.  Some had helpers who stood next to them when they were ringing to keep them on track.  Mr. VP and I didn’t join in (it was daunting just watching such seasoned professionals) but I can now tick off one of my bucket-list dreams, to ring a church bell.  We were taken aside and given a go on bell #3 by one of the aforementioned seasoned professionals, who was very good about explaining the mechanics and the best way of ringing the bell.

One of my favourite parts of the night was the “ringing down” of the bells, meaning instead of them resting upwards, as if they were a cup (which is how they are when they are ready to be rung), they have to be let down into the downward-hanging position.  This means breaking the momentum of the swing by ringing it faster and faster but taking the rope in so the bell has less to swing.  At a certain point the bells stop sounding like bells and begin to sound almost like a deep, resonating organ.  It reverberated around the whole of the church we were in, and sounded quite simply, nothing short of divine (the video below demonstrates the ringing down of the bells, and how at a certain point, the resonating sound takes over and changes the whole atmosphere).

At another church they run a beginners group which we’re both attending tonight. I can’t wait to learn more about the bells and how each person keeps pace with each other. It is amazing the strength of noise but also the beauty of the sound which comes from pulling a rope. On the drive home we both said “wow” a lot, and vowed that we’d stick with our new hobby. After all, what is more beautiful a hobby than bell ringing?

I have just started a new blog.  Not to replace this one, far from it, but rather to host all of my music-related posts.  VintagePretty is very much about me and the music doesn’t seem to fit in here as well as it could.  So I have set up a site with its own domain that sums up everything I love about music.  Simple.

This blog will still get as much attention, just fewer music posts.  You can now go over to indieserendipity.com and see my posts from there.

I have a whole world of things to tell you all, but for now this is just a quick post.  If I get a spare moment this week I will definitely do some updating.  But I’m going to be busy for a little while.  Bear with me!

Thanks for all of the comments and words of support on the last post.  Each and every one was invaluable.  You are all stars.

I don’t know what’s making me miserable, but of late a little grey cloud has been following me around and making me feel pretty awful.  I’d like to think it’s just this summer cold that’s been haunting me for the last couple of days, but if I’m honest it was around long before that.  I’d like to think it’s purely reactionary, about some bad news I got the other day, but it came before that, too.

This is why I’m not blogging.  I haven’t touched my camera in weeks.  I haven’t baked because our oven (in our tiny rented house) doesn’t work, even if it did though, I don’t feel like doing it.  That is my new way of life, it’s haunting and horrible.  I can feel the chills.

I got a job, I got offered a “very okay” job in our local town.  With ideal hours and only a few scary bits.  I should be happy, but somehow I’m not.

Where are the silver linings now?  I can only talk myself into or out of so many situations.

I have been thinking about the coming winter.  Or rather the autumn that fogs our windows and loosens the leaves from their branches.  It gives me the chills.  But I don’t relish the thought of crocheted lap-blankets and scarves.  Or golden hues, the first frosts.  It leaves me with the chills.

I feel breathless and panic-stricken.

I thought I’d be happier by now, I thought I’d got it all sussed.  It turns out I haven’t.  I’m a long way from sussed.

And it’s giving me the chills.

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Now playing: Peter Bjorn And John – The Chills

One of my favourite acts of the two days was The October Game (Main Stage, Saturday, 2:45pm).  A new band for me, though I’ve heard mention of them before, they proved to be a really pleasant surprise.  Not only that, but they came with groupies.  It was mid-afternoon and by then the pace was starting to pick up in the festival grounds.  We bagged ourselves a good space right up at the front (next to the loudest speakers ever) and whooped and clapped at the appropriate moments.  A guitar-driven, poetric mix of rock and acoustic-rock, went down well with everyone in the crowd.  The groupies were singing along, because they knew every word, and everyone else was doing their own rocking.  Parents held their babies up (without ear defenders, I hasten to add…) and they seemed to enjoy it also.  I loved the songs “Bi-Planes at 2AM” and “Concrete (When We Were Invincible)” and found their album Wildblood to be the perfect summer album.  We listened to their album all the way home and it wasn’t just good it was excellent.  Big thumbs up.

Sounds a bit like:  Later-Keane, The Fray if they were rockier and (vocally) The Guillemots.

The problem with festivals in general is that they have to be run with military precision.  That works really well if you’re a huge outfit like Glastonbury or Reading and Leeds, events that cater to the hundreds of thousands, and who have very well-planned time-tables and plenty of staff to sound-check.  If you’re only catering for 25,000 people and you’re run principally by volunteers then you have to make allowances that sometimes things won’t go to plan.  Mostly at Rhythms of the World it turned out to be actual stage time that paid the price for sound-checking problems.  Most people would be quite happy to live with the odd excess of bass from the left speaker or the quietness of the keyboards, but not so at this festival.

One of the people who paid the price for a long sound-check and military-precision scheduling was Liam Jenkins (St. Mary’s Stage, Saturday).  It was soley due to the previous band over-running and not having done a pre-sound-check that his set was cut unfortunately short.  Personally he was a shining star in the whole festival and his set getting cut after just 3 songs was a travesty.  His long, duelling acoustic-guitar parts plastered a smile on my face for the whole 20-minute set. It was ambitious and well-executed, deserving of maybe a different setting.  He is an incredibly accomplished musician and held the crowd in rapt-awe as we watched him do things to that guitar that made it sing.  It is typical that the two bands that I really wanted to buy CDs from (the other band being the James Bay Band) didn’t have anything to purchase.  I am not too perturbed though, as almost every band has a MySpace account and I can listen to their lovely music on there.  And I do, frequently.  I have a feeling that this guy, were he a horse to put money on, would definitely come out as a future winner.  He has good form and good musical breeding.  With a little bit more rounding I would certainly bet on him.

Now I am fully aware that it takes a lot of guts to get up on a stage.  I am a shy person by nature, especially in large groups.  And whereas my childhood classmates (little rapscallions that they were) all wanted to be singers/ footballers/ famous astronauts/ supermodels, I wanted nothing more than to be something along the lines of astronomer-cum-medical-genius.  Somewhere I slipped up and ended up in my current field (or rather the field I was in before I upped-sticks and moved down here) which is okay because it affords me anonymity.  My idea of hell would be to be famous, to be recognised and to be well-known.  But for some people their talents bring them fame and fortune in large doses.  David Beckham and his right foot, Madonna and her pointy-bits, Gordon Brown’s ears.  Not all deserve such adoration or fame for their talents, but some very much do.  Michael Jackson for his voice, Alexander Skarsgard for his… well, everything and Ed Harcourt for his bitchenly awesome songwriting ability.

Jose Vanders fits somewhere between Michael Jackson’s well-honed people-pleasing and Ed Harcourt’s amazing songwriting ability.  This little lady is a one-woman tour de force.  She’s bright and intelligent, she’s snappy and verbose.  She looks and sounds like she was made to entertain audiences.  She isn’t overly loud or overly anything, except good.  Her middle name might be “gentle” but she holds that great thing of youth: possibility.  Her lyrics tell of experiences she’s had and experiences yet to have.  They tell of a future she’s gazing at through the rose-tinted spectacles of youth (do I sound old?  I am myself only 24 but I feel sadly jaded and lacking in youthfulness).  In short, she’s amazing.

I know I’m free with the word amazing.  I find there aren’t enough adjectives in this world to describe something which is really wonderful.  Brilliant, awesome, awe-inspiring, propitious, outstanding, spectacular.  With time Jose Vanders will be all of these things and more.  Her style is parked squarely between Regina Spektor and Kate Nash (though thankfully not very much of the latter), independent, quirky and piano-filled.  Seeing her upon that little stage up there singing, playing Regina Spektor-esq tunes with such confidence, as if this was little more than a school recital, was special.  There aren’t enough good, British female singers at the moment.  Plenty of men with guitars, but nothing quite as individual as Jose.  Which, by the way, is pronounced as it looks, not Josie or José.  Just Jose.  And whatever happens, Jose is bound for big things because she’s talented, but more than that, because she was born to do it.

Sorry this is getting posted a little later than expected (i.e. a week late!) but life has been really busy!

Last Saturday we saw some amazing bands.  All of them were fairly-unknownst to us but for me at least, it made it a nicer festival – we didn’t feel like we had to see a certain band and we were free to wander between stages as our mood dictated.  Wander we did!  We ventured to every stage and enjoyed a huge array of bands, clocking up no less than 12 different gigs throughout our first day alone.  For our (very reasonable) ticket price, this made us incredibly happy and with music, ice-cream and other lovely consumables on-site we had an excellent day.  The sun was shining (it was hot) and the mix of bodies, dry grass, loud music and blue skies was intoxicating.

I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of not only the festival itself but of the acts performing.  Independent and unsigned acts on the cusp of promising careers they might have been, but most of the acts we saw could easily have rocked-out at any festival – however large or small.

One of the first bands we saw on Saturday was Hertfordshire-based indie-rockers This Empire (Nettlebed Stage, Saturday, 12:45) and we were delighted with a short-but-sweet set from this reasonably-local band.  It brought back all kinds of memories of my misspent youth, being a faux-groupie and experiencing that rush of affection for a new band.  This Empire were actually worthy of groupies (the song Butane performed live was excellent) though I didn’t notice a huddle of girls singing along to their songs, sadly (… there is time for me to resume my groupie status).  Though I have a feeling it won’t be long until they too attain plenty of them.  The music made me smile, it made me want to dance and I liked the mix of melodic indie-rock that reminded me of those heady, misspent days.  Anyone in search of good, honest garage-band-ish indie will love this band.  They have promise and a good set-up – they could just do with something to download, eh guys?

From This Empire we segued nicely onto The Floe (Nettlebed Stage, Saturday, 2.15pm).  Though the quartet was down half of its members, this did not deter or impair the music.  Two women with two microphones and a keyboard serenaded a now-packed Nettlebed Stage.  Their songs were chilled, feminine (despite this being a 50:50 band) and instantly brought a louder, beatier Zoe Johnston to mind.  It was perfect chillout material, calmly and beautifully executed.  The songs on their MySpace site are the engineered final versions, though their pared-down, acoustic versions played live were just as good, if not better.  The song Treading Water is honest, pleasing and intellectual music at its best.  There are no pretensions or flourishes that need not be there.  Delectable and summery with a serious edge.  The fact that they are playing O2 arenas and have just been named Café Nero’s band of the month shows that their songs are finally reaching the masses.  Right where they should be.

(more bands in the next post…!)