Britain's got (some) talent

Right. I don't watch much TV, let's get that down right from the get-go. It's mainly because most of the stuff on there is utter tripe but also partly because I prefer my entertainment to be much more interactive than sitting there just absorbing what you're given. If I had my way, I wouldn't even have a TV in the house, so much do I dislike the damn thing. Other than to relay the images from your games console, they really are the devil's devices. OK, a bit harsh perhaps but you get the idea.

There are a few programmes, however, which inexplicably draw me in. I can probably count them on one hand. One in particular, however, utterly fascinates me and I can't quite put my finger on why. It's Britain's Got Talent. Now, I normally detest these types of shows, your X-Factor and pop Idol types, with a passion. This one however, I just cant stop watching. Perhaps it's the car-crash potential. When you see someone like The Singing Souls it's like you just have to rubber-neck. There's something deeply psychologically wrong about it all...

Of course, the producers know how to emotionalise pretty much anything through the magical forces of music and editing but I have to confess even this steely Scotsman was dabbing at his eyes when I heard Susan Boyle, or even the little guy from this week's episode. Inexplicable, I say! What despicable forces are at work here? I would also like to point out that the whole "oops I picked the wrong song" bit from the little kid is staged without a doubt. Still, cracking voice though.

Of course, the highlight of Saturday's show, for me, was undoubtedly Darth Jackson. This was that weird combination of a complete car-crash, cringeworthy moment followed by hilarity as he breaks in to part 2 of his routine. I shall leave you with a video to remember him by. Can't wait to see what he does in the next round. HOW did he get through exactly?? I wonder what he planned for part 3 that he is so peeved about at the end. "Who's Bad"??

Embedding disabled on this one, so clicky!

Roll on next week.

There's always next season.

That about sums it up to be honest. Motherwell's season came to a disappointing end today when we were beaten 2-0 at home by St Mirren in the final game before the split. After that defeat there are no more games left to catch up with Hibs so it's 5 more meaningless games for the 'Well before the end of the campaign. I'm pretty gutted. A couple of weeks ago everything was going great. 2 defeats in 14 games and we looked a shoe-in to make the top bracket and be challenging for the Europa League places. Now? Nothing to play for whatsoever. How quickly the fickle fortunes can change for a football club. I'm going to save the summing of the season post for a while until I can look back objectively. Right now it might be bit melancholy.

As ever for the football fan of a "wee" team, there's always the hope that comes with the next campaign.

There's always next season.

Prodigy = WIN

There are no sufficient superlatives to fully do justice to the Prodigy gig at the Wembley Arena last night. No sir. It was a bass-pounding, adrenaline-charged, sweat-laced sensory extravaganza and I'm just glad I was there, in the flesh, to experience it.

Dizzee Rascal warmed us up with his repertoire of party tunes, beefed up for the occasion by turning the bass up, way up. Road Rage was great and Bonkers, as you would expect with a Prodigy crowd, went down a storm. The temperature was rising even before the Prodigy had begun setting up.

After half an hour of random DJ #2 the curtain finally went up to reveal a MASSIVE light rig. Within moments Liam, Maxim and Keith (and a pair of utter loonies on guitar and drums) would be upon us. Let the revelling begin...

90 minutes later I was drenched in sweat, half naked, breathing like I'd done 15 rounds with Mike Tyson, utterly exhausted and exhilarated in equal measure and absolutely dead on my feet. But damn, it was worth it. If there is a better band to see live than the Prodigy, get me a ticket NOW. Their energy levels, even after so many years, are through the roof. Never stopping for a moment, Maxim and Keith bounced across the stage like jumping beans. Surely this can only be attributed to narcotics. Whatever. The crowd drew from their enthusiasm as they drew from the crowd. A positive feedback loop that very nearly blew my eardrums. Speaking of which, my hearing STILL isn't back to normal. I'm starting to get concerned. But you know what? If I never hear properly again, well, it will STILL be worth it. Fuck yeah!

I could say more about this jaw dropping set but I think I'll let a couple of youtube videos do my talking. Enjoy!

We're all off to Wembley, na na na na.

Tonight is the night! It's taken an eternity to roll around but at last it has indeed arrived. Wembley is going to be jumping to that irresistible Prodigy sound and I just cannot wait any longer! It's 14 years since I first saw them live (holy...!) and 3 (only 3!?!) albums (of new material) have been released in that time. Obviously this tour is supporting Invaders Must Die, which is a fantastic album, but I'm really hoping for a good mix of their stuff from their entire discography. Some Experience would be lovely. Jilted, well, they just gotta do some Jilted! Fat of the Land is a bit meh by Prodigy's epic standards but a couple of the tracks on it are amazing live (if poor quality youtube vids are anything to go by). Always outnumbered has some tasty stuff too. I just hope they are on stage long enough to fit everything I want in. In any event, this is going to be a night to remember...

The good, the bad and the ugly 90 minutes.

Chelsea 4 Liverpool 4 (7-5 on agg)

Did you see it at the pub? On the couch at home? Even better, were you at Stamford Bridge? An affirmative to any of the above and you were lucky enough to watch one of the most entertaining 90 minutes of football you're likely to see for a long time. Chelsea and Liverpool served up an absolute cracker last night, an 8-goal thriller that contributed to a 7-5 aggregate score that poured scorn on the pundits who suggested this would be another pair of tight ties from these familiar Champion's League combatants. 17 goals in the last three games could hardly have been predicted from a duel that provided only 5 goals from the preceding 7 encounters in this most auspicious of club competitions.

There are a few good reasons for this uncharacteristic glut of goals. Liverpool exploded out of the traps, as you would expect from a team chasing a 2-goal deficit from the first leg. Bolton had showed the way at the weekend with 3 goals at the Bridge against a defence that included John Terry (who was missing for this game) so there was clearly cause for optimism in the ranks of the Anfield side going into the game. As Liverpool opened up in search of more goals then they were always likely to come under threat at the back and that combined with a bit of poor positioning from Reina, a thunderbolt free kick from Alex and Lampard's general ability to be where it counts, when it counts all contributed to the quantity of times we saw the net bulge.

The game had everything. Moments of genuine quality juxtaposed with Sunday league howlers made it an unpredictable encounter that seemed to swing from one possible outcome to the other every 5 minutes. Liverpool looked to have given themselves a chance in a first half during which Chelsea didn't turn up until 5 minutes before the interval. After the break (and a proper haranguing from Hiddink) Chelsea were much improved and seemed to have finished the tie off with a brace of their own. Once Lampard had put the home side ahead one got the feeling it was all over bar the shouting. Well, shout Liverpool did. Long and loud and clear. Somehow, incredibly, they managed to get their nose in front in the tie again with goals from the much maligned Lucas (who did a decent job in for the injured Gerrard) and Dirk Kuyt. For a few edge-of-the-seat minutes another goal would win the tie for Liverpool and you wouldn't have betted against them getting it either, despite Benitez having taken the largely ineffectual Torres off earlier. It wasn't to be though as another goal from Lampard killed off those last Liverpool hopes and ensured the blues march onwards to face the majestic Barcelona in the last 4. If those games are half as entertaining as this one was, you can bet I'll be waxing lyrical about them here as well.

As for Liverpool, well, their focus now switches solely to the Premier title their fans crave so much. Perhaps this ability to concentrate on one tournament will give them a real chance of clawing back United's lead at the top. It depends, of course, how Sir Alex's charges get on at the Dragao tonight. Benitez can be very proud of his players. A one-man team? Not a chance. Although you cant help but wonder what might have happened had Gerrard been fit...