The George Lite Zone

An X Box Camera in the UK stares at the images sent by it's US kin, looking at the images it sent, of the images it sent onwards to the shores of infinity.

Calvin's godfather, Black Adder, and Cassidy bid us Happy New Year over X Box Live.

A Happy New Year to one and all, from the Ternent Clan, George, Linda, Calvin and Buffy the cat.

For the 2nd and final time this year it was time to see Joan as Police Woman , this time on my own turf in the hallowed grounds of Edinburgh's Liquid Rooms. Support this time was supplied by Leith's Dean Owens backed by the equally Leithish Kim Edgar . Tracks like Raining in Glasgow rained down on the assembled throng with Dean strumming along on accoustic guitar while Kim aquited herself ably on keyboards and backing vocals. On a number of tracks Dean let rip on the harmonica with the croud going wild, nothing to do with their being asked to do so beforehand, honest. His set finished with Whisky Hearts. On the sleevenote to the album of that name, Irvine Welsh said "Every time he sings a song, he means it and feels it with every fibre of his being. Now that is something special - Scotland's most engaging and haunting singer-songwriter ". According to Dean this track is being used on the soundtrack to a new Irvine Welsh movie next year. Hopefully this exposure wi

As hard rock bars go, Excalibur is the real deal. Owned by a group of local Hells Angels, it sits on the edge of the cities red light district, a heavy metal sword stuck in a classic rock. I met the couple pictured earlier, in the bowels of Chimera and it was their directions that brought me there. I also got talking to another group of Motorhead fans there who saw the Wolverhampton gig. They hailed from Chadsmore, Staffs, which is just up the road from my old stomping ground in the Midlands. Tis a small world. There followed a party of Geordies, all temporary Man Utd fans for the night (Sunderland's latest Premiership opponents). Howay the lads! Heineken was quaffed, refreshing the parts other beers cannot reach, and rock and roll was the order of the day (or order of the early evening at this point). On the music front, I was quite impressed with the Killswitch Engage that was played. According to the barman, it was from the bands self titled first album and sounded incredibly ti

, Staying over on mainland Europe this weekend I thought that a return trip to the Dam was long overdue. And so it was I found myself heading off to Brussels Gare du Nord station and a two and a half hour train ride to the heart of the Netherlands. Amsterdam is a bizarre place. You walk into a shop, look up and a herd of cows looks back at you. Surreal. After this close encounter of the bovine kind I headed on down Dam Straat to Chimera in search of Christmas booty. A magical world of fairies, dragons, pixies and goth shop assistants. Several hours later, I finally emerged, having browsed their entire stock enumerable times before making my seasonal choices. Thirsty work this shopping, time for a beer.

Quel surprise, the band return for an encore of Whorehouse Blues , Ace Of Spades and a cracking version of Overkill , Mickey Dee's drumming on this was superb. Cue more serious head banging and the obligtory Lemmy machine gun base playing, mowing down ranks of Belgian body serfers carried by their peers into the arms of the waiting security team. The tremendous trio bow take a final bow as Lemmy's base blasts out feedback from its resting position propped against an amp. The base fades, as does the crowd melting out into a Brussels night like the weekend snow. Ears still ringing I head for the 63 bus and back to the flat. Another perfect gig.

The main part of the gig ends with Danko Jones coming on stage to clown along to Killed by Death followed by a rousing version of Bomber . Firestorm coming closer, napalm to the bone... More moshing, more head banging and the band leave the stage to the chant of Motorhead, Motorhead. Will they return? Will my ears stop ringing? Will Tom Baker return as Dr Who? Tune in for my next post, same bat time, same bat channel. Down the Line

Opening up with a blistering rendition of Iron Fist segueing seamlessly into Stay Clean , Motorhead strut the boards at Ancienne Belgique Brussels and the crowd go wild, including yours truly. It's been 27 years since I first saw Motorhead and some things never change, Lemmy till has more charisma in his little finger and he plays base like some mad god of rock while messrs Campbell and Mickey Dee just get better every year. There follow Be My Baby and Rock Out . A special prize for anyone who can identify yours truly in the following footage. The angle I took the above picture at and the fact I was in the front row are a clue, as is my arm that periodically stabs the air with the intensity of Norman Bates on speed. Back to a couple of golden oldies Metropolis and Over The Top , followed by One Night Stand , I Got Mine and the second song off the new album, Thousand Names Of God . Civil War and Another Perfect Day, are then followed by a nice little guitar solo from Phil

As the snow tumbled out of a Sunday afternoon Brussels sky, I thought I'd take advantage of the unclement weather and see a movie. A short trudge from my breakfast pit stop at O'Reilly's to de Brouckere later and I sat myself down to watch Changeling, directed by Clint Eastwood and starring Angelina Jolie. I've always been a great admirer of Clint, both as an actor, in films like the Good the Bad and the Ugly as a purveyor of fine foods, the Dirty Harry burger I ate in his Hogsbreath restaurant in Carmel was awesome. Changeling shows, yet again, that he's also one of the finest directors in the world. Like Billion Dollar Baby before it it's a bittersweet roller coaster of the emotions, but I think overall is uplifting. Jolie plays a mother, Christine Collins, who's son go's missing and is found by the police. The only problem is that the returnee foisted on her by the police is not her boy. What follows is a nightmare journey to the heart of 1920&#

Whatever next, Dave Brock singing Pretty Vacant?

I've always loved a good blast of harmony from a band, CSNY, The Grateful Dead, Spirit. Vocals that soar like an eagle and lift you up to a higher plain. Into this illustrious group I can now add The Fleet Foxes. I learnt the band was playing AB when I spotted a poster when picking up my tickets to see Dave Holland. I'd never heard of thm at the time, but the rave reviews by such illustrious tomes as the Guardian and the Times, on the aforementioned flyer persuaded me to get tickets. Oh woe was me when told that they'd sold out, but an addition to a waiting list and a call a few weeks later to say that tickets were available saw me and Big Phil sitting at the back of AB waiting forth the band to come. First off the support act, J. Tillman came on, wisecracking and strumming his way through an acoustic set to rapturous applause. Then the Foxes appeared with our erstwhile support act guitarist transforming into the bands drummer. J. Tillman Foxes in Disguise... The music fro

What better to come back to after Novacon than a superb performance by that group from New York, Joan As Police Woman . Joan's vocals soared as the band played a selection of great tracks from Real Life and their latest album To Survive (both highly recommended). After the show Joan signed copies of her albums and I added a copy of their self titled debut to my collection. I must try to get tickets to catch them again on December 13th at the Liquid rooms in Edinburgh.

Beer, faggots and peas, beer,charades, beer, bacon butties and more beer. Novacon beer tastings, some things never change !

Having finshed his review of the new Robert Rankin novel, Dave indulges in the delights of this years Novacon. I look forwards to reading it in SFX magazine. He was also sighted buying a copy of the Judgement day graphic novel by Alan Moore. Graphic novels? whatever next, this could be the end of civilisation as we know it.

This Novacon I became enchanted by the art of Anne Sudworth , and bewitched into buying two books of her work, Enchanted World and Gothic Fantasies, and 2 prints of her work in the art auction, Out Of The Lights and the Edge Of The World.

Cue Indy theme music and cut to the 471 bus with a young slip of a lass driving to the heart of darkness that is Brussels. Suddenly, "Does anyone know the way to the Gare du Nord?" cries our damsel driver in distress. Without hesitation Indiana Campbell leapt to his feet, doffed his virtual Fedora, cracked a whip (or was that the sound of his knees?) and ran the gauntlet of a bumpy ride to save the day. Directions delivered with cockney aplomb and we were back en-route shadowing the legendary '65 to arrive at our final destination, shaken but not stirred. The glow of a dying sun bathes the world in blood, or was it the glowing cheeks of a blushing driver that lit the night sky that night?. Cue end theme, roll credits and fade to black.

Inspired by seeing Wolverhampton's finest play with his Quintet at AB the other week, I purchased myself a copy of their double live album Live at Birdland. Giving it a spin, I've got to conclude that this has got to be one of the finest live Jazz albums of all time and would be a worthy addition to the top live album list I posted earlier. Live at Birdland runs the whole gamut of modern jazz, taking you on a roller coaster of cool, with each track hitting the mark with greater regularity than Steve Bull. As with the live gig I attended the sound stage of this album is breathtakingly wide and deserves a listen at the end of the day, with a single malt in your hand and your brain set to deep chill. In one word, bostin !!!

After this years Halloween party in Brussels, we descended on the Classic Rock bar, to finish the night off with a generous helping of AC/DC, Metallica and Motorhead. In the course of events, one of the local headbangers changed before our eyes into a furry creature with sharp pointy teeth. Was it a curse? Was it the Moon? Or had they borrowed my Halloween costume? I'll leave that one for Mulder and Scully. Musical highlight for me was the crowd singing along to one of my requests, SOAD's Violent Pornography . Classic stuff.

After a pre-concert beer at the Bizon, we made our way to that most venerable 0f venues Ancienne Belgique. Dave Holland and has cats came on stage and let loose a barrage of top drawer fusion jazz. Riffs interchanged, diverged and converged with Dave's base providing a permanent axis the others could play off. Moments of playfulness with the drummer dropping beats with the others filling in the aural gaps. Moments of melancholy, moments of joy and moments of beauty filled the quintet's soundscape. Listening to this band was like taking a walk in a strange land. Strange, but somehow familiar shapes move through the aural murk, opening doors of perception on a sonic world that it was a pleasure to share, if only for a little while. After the gig it was off to Bizon for more Rochefort 8 and an encounter with another Dave, who may be jamming their next Monday night. Groovy !!!

Milton is finally introduced to Cafe Bizon. Unfortunately the day before his return to the land of Uncle Sam. Still he should be back in '09 in time for Burns night, so he'll have more Bizon nights to look forwards to. That should teach him how to sing the blues.

One last thing to before I sign off blogging for the night and hit the sack. The support band for Mr Mayall tonight were The Pack A.D. and they were excellent. It's a difficult job supporting a legend, but this all female twosome from Canada did so to a standing ovation. We were already standing anyway, but hey they were goood. Raw, in your face blues rock, these girls are a band to watch out for in the future. I'm looking forwards to giving their latest shiny slver disc, Funeral Mixtape, a spin tomorrow. Give them a try and check out their Myspace account for some video footage of them in action.

After a blistering stint with the Bluesbreakers, Buddy Whittington takes some time out for a signing session. I was impressed with the way he rifted his way through a plethora of tracks at one point, in a fabulous solo, picking his way through, amongst others Zeppelin and Clapton with consummate ease. A master of his craft.

It's not often you get the chance to see a blues legend. It's even less often that they take the time to meet the fans bef0re and after a gig and sign copies of their CDs for them. John Mayall , OBE, is the father of British Blues and a very nice man to boot. Tonights concert in Brussels was a stormer and has to rank up there with the most memorable music experiences of my life. The current incarnation of the Bluesbreakers hails from the and of Uncle Sam and does the name justice. Joe Yuele on drums, Hank van Sickle on bass and the awesome Buddy Whitington on lead guitar and, occasionally, lead vocals. A barnstorming concert featuring tracks old and new Ancienne Belgique was well and truly rocked tonight (in a Bluesy kind of way). That should warm it up quite nicely for another legend next month when Lemmy brings the rock Juggernaut that is Motorhead to town. Bring it on !!! In the meantime here are a few snippets from tonights gig I found onYou Tube. With so many camera phon

After a nights strenuous bowling, "Dude" Phil takes laid back a little too literally. Now where's that rug?

I'm currently listening to Lemmy on Planet Rock, the home of rock radio. Here are his choices for the My Planet Rocks show: - The Beatles - Slow Down , She was Just Seventeen MC5 - Human Being Lawnmower Lemmy was one of the artists who supplied vocals when the 3 surviving members of MC5 performed a reunion concert at the 100 Club in London in 2003. The Rolling Stones - Route 66 - Live Hendrix - Love or Confusion Lemmy roadied for Hendrix for 8 months, just before he joined Hawkwind, allegedly he used to score acid for the guitar maestro. The Who - Summertime Blues The Ramones - I Want To Be Sedated Another band Lemmy's performed with, not to mention R.A.M.O.N.E.S. The Sex Pistols - Anarchy In the UK The Damned - Neat neat neat Led Zeppelin - Black Dog Good choices !

Reading the BMI magazine on my flight back from Brussels yesterday I came across a wee article about a free Wi-Fi website ( www.free-hotspot.com ). This splendid site allows you to search for free Wi-Fi sites around the world and as such is pretty useful when your roaming the globe. As I was heading to Perth in search of Motorhead's new magnum opus, I checked out what was available in that fair city. Which is why I find myself sitting here on a Saturday morning in Willows Coffee Shop, blogging on my eee-PC after a bodacious bacon butty and a pot of loose leaf Suki Belfast Brew tea. Now it's tme to sup up and mowsy on to HMV to grab a copy of Motorizer.

Thanks to Jimmy for his latest trivia question, it inspired me to seek out this little ditty by Motorhead. Something to tide me over till I get my sticky mits on the new album.

Perched on Old Compton Street like a bird on a wire, Café Espana is consistently excellent. Excellent food, excellent atmosphere, excellent wine at a most excellent price. On this occasion a selection of Tapas including prawns in a garlic sauce, potatoes in a spicy tomato sauce and chorizio were followed by a wonderful liver and crispy bacon dish and a lamb dish. Of the two the majestic liver won the day, melting in the mouth and delivering instant foody nirvana. The wine drunk was the second most expensive Rioja on the menu and is wonderful. Just look at the delirious expression on my good friend Simon's face as he holds it aloft. The damage for this feast fit for kings, £19 a head. Fandabadozy! If you're ever in London and looking for a good budget munch, check it out. Café Espana 63 Old Compton Street London W1D 6HT Tel: 0871 3328043

Returning to Amsterdam after 3 years away was like slipping on an old pair of slippers, a comfortable feeling that I was in one of the few places I could happily call home. After pottering around the Dam square area in the morning, we headed off towards Cafe Gollum for lunch, one of my old stomping grounds, where the heady mix of great Blues Music and great beer put it in my great bars of the world list. Unfortunately I forgot it doesn't open till 4 o'clock. Drat. This particular Dutch cloud did however have a silver lining. Casting my eyes over the road I chanced upon a fine looking beer emporium called the Cracked Kettle . Not only do they have a tremendous selection of beers, but they also do mail order, which is nice to know. The chap behind the counter,it transpired, was from Kirkcaldy in the Kingdom of Fife. It's a wee world. Moving on from the Cracked Kettle, clutching a couple of newly acquired bottles of my favorite Trappist beer, Westvleteren, we moved on to anot

Der Bier-Esel (the Beer Donkey) dates back to 1297 and it over 700 years old is a good place to sample the local beer and food. The beer drunk was Kolsch, a beverage drunk by anyone and everyone in Cologne, men, women, children and even the odd donkey. Kolsch is a lite beer and slips down the throat like liquid velvet. The Donkey specialises in food of a piggish persuasion and neither the Pork Knuckle I had,or the Frankfurter munched by my son, disappointed. Thanks to Pete Wright, of Greasy Truckers , for the heads up on this fine beer emporium. Highly recommended. Addendum - Further visits to the Esel confirmed my suspicions that this is a seriously good restaurant. Berlin style beef liver and marinated, braised beef with raisin sauce, apple sauce and some great parsley dumplings launched this bar into the realms of places where you wouldn't want to eat anywhere else in town. Not only is this culinary alchemy of the highest order, but the prices are reasonable too. Marvelous. I

Sitting outside a cafe, opposite Bruges last remaining brewery, drinking one of their brews, brugse Zot, on a Sunday morning. Horses clip clop down Bruges cobbled streets pulling carriage loads of tourists behind them, a plethora of churches claw the skyline, while a small armada of boats bomb up and down the waterways. Not a bad way to kick off our wee European tour. Tomorrow it's on to Deutschland and the historic city of Cologne. Achtung baby.

This is Rob, with the best bar maid in Brussels, Anna (Rob's the one on the right by the way).

Warm summer nights, cool Belgian beer as the sun goes down at St Catherine. Ah, life is good.

Every once in a while an author comes along who's the literary equivalent of heroin, you read them, get hooked, read everything they've ever written, then get cold turkey waiting for them to write your next fix. Lee Child fell into that category on a friends recommendation I read the Jack Reacher book "One Shot" and within a week I'd bought and got signed copies of every Reacher book out there. A Jack Reacher novel reads like Dirty Harry on steroids, which is all right by me. In a bought of Reacher turkey I hit my local pushers, Waterstones, looking for some more of the good stuff. That's when I stumbled on Barry Eisler courtesy of Lee Child . It was Lee's comment on acopy of Eisler's "The Last Assassin" that did it. " Eisler is exactly my kind of writer and his deadly main character John Rain is exactly my kind of guy - highly recommended ". Good enough for Lee, good enough for me. After reading "The Last Assassin", bri

The sun goes up, the sun goes down, the leaves turn green, the leaves turn brown and all he does is hang around.