Paul Schiernecker

Category: Other

  • Mancrush Friday – Jeff Buckley

    I’m currently reading Dream Brother and as such I feel I need to make it clear that my mancrush on Jeff has very little to do with his physical appearance, because the book states in no uncertain terms that he hated being viewed as a pin up or a sex symbol. What I love about him is his absolute passion for music, his sense of humour and his gift.

    I first got into Jeff Buckley because a girl I fancied was really into Jeff Buckley and to my lesser mind I felt the best way of ensuring she thought I was worthy of her was to just like all of the things that she liked. As is often the way my love for the artist has stayed whereas the girl has drifted off into the ether, I thank her wherever she is for introducing me to Jeff’s work.

    I suppose most people know Jeff for his cover of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah which was thrown into the spotlight in December 2008 as real music fans campaigned for it to be Christmas number one over that years X-Factor winner whose name has long since disappeared into the mists of time. What you should know about Buckley is that his version of Hallelujah is just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve spent the last seven years collecting bootlegs and live albums and he really has something for everyone. At points some it gets awkward or self indulgent (particularly live vocal solos) but there’s something quaint in that, nobody else has/had the audacity or the voice to try it. The way he composed his songs, the haunting melodies, the soaring vocals, it’s just really something to behold and embrace.

    Jeff was prominent when the world was just turning away from grunge and looking for the new thing and as much as he thought it was what he wanted he became a victim of his own success, being hounded by the press and fans of his father (cult folk singer Tim Buckley) to the point that when he could have made an incredible second album he felt put upon by everyone at his record company who were demanding hits from him when all he wanted to do was thrash about and make noise with his friends. Throughout his brief career and indeed brief life he stuck to his guns, held his integrity high and did what he wanted and that’s a beautiful character trait.

     

  • Daddy Cool

    Today is my Dad’s birthday. I won’t divulge his age, I don’t think he would want that. What I will say is that I have a couple of brilliant presents for him and that he doesn’t look a day over fifty.

    I have a strange relationship with ‘my old man’ by which I don’t mean that we struggle to get along, or that he wasn’t much of a presence when I was growing up but quite the opposite. I have very fond memories of him reading to me at night, of running across fields with a kite, of nights in watching television I probably was too young for.

    He was the one who introduced me to music. When people are impressed by my eclectic taste and knowledge it’s down to him. I remember listening to a lot of glam and rock when I was growing up, and I’ve never strayed too far from that, his LP of Physical Graffiti is one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen or heard in my life.

    Dad recently said that when I start recording songs again he wants to play bass on them, and I love that idea. He’ll have to fight my little brother for it but whatever.

    I guess all that matters is this, happy birthday you lovely older me.

  • Charity begins very close to home.

    I am in the bath.

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    This is the first blog I’ve written in the bath but it probably won’t be the last. The reason I am in the bath is thusly. Today I spent six hours digging. Those of you who know me will know this is highly unusual behaviour for me, manual labour is not my forte. The fact that I describe it as not being my ‘forte’ should give you a fairly good depiction of where my allegiances lie when it comes to work. The reason I spent six hours digging is that I was invited to help out on a gardening project at Little Havens hospice. Little Havens is a charity very close to me (not just geographically) and I’ve attended fundraisers and the like for them in the past, my friend Luke did a skydive for them at the weekend. Today was the first occasion I ever felt like I was properly involved and got my hands dirty in every sense of the word.

    It wasn’t until we were sat being given an introduction that I really began to think about what it is that they do there. Every year Little Havens needs 2.4 million pounds to serve as a respite centre for children and teenagers with terminal illnesses. They also cover a multitude of other areas of expertise and I recommend you look them up.

    We were split into teams and given different jobs depending on our abilities. For some reason I was put to work with the men. They didn’t approve of me saying that the top layer of soil we were turning over was like the surface of a Creme Brûlée, and from that point I kept my dessert romanticising similes to myself.

    Laying here now I can’t think of when I physically worked myself that hard and I feel a lot more fulfilled as a result of it than I would have doing pretty much anything else.

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  • Never completely sane.

    I’m a big fan of the over the top, throw things around, slam doors and smash things strop. I think it’s entirely healthy as a past time. What I don’t like is how I feel in the moments after, it opens something up, something bottled, something I don’t want to deal with.

    I had one last night you see, and it’s got me questioning my motives in flipping out. It sounds really stupid to discuss it but I think it’s a part of my OCD, of things aren’t done in a particular way then I flat-out flip out. It doesn’t help that nobody will lift a finger at home because they expect me to do it all, because I always have, because I have OCD. It drives me mad when things aren’t done, or aren’t done to my specifications and they know it, they know that if they just leave it I will do it, because I always have, and I always will.

    It’s quite an odd thing when you consider how sloppy my personal appearance is the majority of the time.

  • Blank white page.

    I’m pleased to announce that I am well on the way with some new writing. With a little assistance from Life Rapture’s very own Benjamin Spall I am planning on releasing a book of short stories on Kindle in the coming months. At the moment I’m calling it ‘Where Did All The Money Go’ after one of the stories included in the collection but essentially it is stuff that I couldn’t wedge into my novel and is too good to just leave as a memory.

    You can expect a return from the boys of Situation One as well as a host of other characters as we journey through ‘The Night of the Fridge Graveyard’, Crazy Wheelchair Pot’, ‘Madcat on the Prowl’ and plenty of others. I’m excited, and I’m the one writing it. It’s just nice to be stepping away from the novel as I close on the redrafting phase that has consumed me in the last couple of months. I’m pleased that people who had a huge impact on the three years I spent at Uni can get a look in now when they might not have been present for the dizzy highs in the novel.

    Keep your eyes peeled, I’ll keep you updated.

  • Bridger at 14,000 feet.

    Today Luke Bridger (my dear friend/ bandmate/ co-writer) jumped out of a motherflipping plane. He raised over £500 for Little Havens hospice and best of all managed to deal with us trash talking him for five hours.

    We set out this morning before seven (me, Luke, Luke, Flopsy and Ben) and managed to cover The Human Centipede, Hot air balloon disasters and vomit as topics in the hour and a half it took us to get to Headcorn Parachute Club in Kent via a McDonalds breakfast. The closer we got, the paler Luke turned until he literally could not stand our support anymore. Even when I kindly gave him my headphones and serenaded him with the R Kelly megahit I Believe I Can Fly he called me a dick and walked away. If I had been in his position you wouldn’t have got me into a van let alone the plane he then boarded. His last words were ‘seriously shut up’ as he headed away to suit up for his adventure through the clouds.

    He jumped solo, pulled his ‘chute unassisted and I think has now forgiven us for being the worst friends imaginable given the circumstances. I’m very proud of him, the little wonder.

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  • Mancrush Friday – Simon Amstell

    A lot of the reason I fancy Simon Amstell is that he’s thin, Jewish and has big hair. These are the same reasons I fancy myself, what can I say, I have a type.

    I’ve watched him and liked him since Popworld and he’s one of the few man crushes I have who is obtainable (because he’s gay and single). I was at the Roundhouse a couple of years ago for a gig and he was there, and he gave me the eye, and I think that only served to increase the obsession. Sometimes I forget I’m not watching a home video when Grandma’s House is on, and I don’t know if I stole his mannerisms because he’s so adorable or if I’m just also adorable, I hope it’s the latter.

    The only thing that stops me is the awkward morning after when we can’t work out who’s vintage indie jumper is who’s.

  • Got to get down on Friday.

    I feel absolutely fantastic this morning. I got up and ran two miles listening to Bombay Bicycle Club while the sun came up which is possibly the best way to begin a day. I think it helped that I had such a good time last night. It was my return to the improvised comedy workshop. What I realised last night is just how close I am to those guys, I thought initially it was a little business like or a little snobbish because they all have a background in the arts but we actually get on incredibly well, I feel a lot more comfortable in front of them than I do other people. I think it helps that they genuinely make me laugh, there were moments last night when I was actually in danger of blacking out from laughing so hard. There are moments of puerile and childish jokes and there are moments of clever and eloquent puns and it’s just such a joy to be a part of. That’s enough gushing though.

    I’m on the train to work and I’m quite looking forward to that being out of the way because a group of us are going for dinner and then to see Woman In Black at the Fortune Theatre. I’ll probably review that tomorrow if I get a chance.

    As far as my weekend plans go I’m about one session (two hours) away from finishing the redraft of my novel. Then I’ll need to read it, get others to read it, and try and get myself a literary agent. I’ve already started on my next three projects and can’t wait to get my first out in the post. Tomorrow I’m going to watch a friend skydive for charity which I am quite looking forward to. I’ve never seen a skydive done before and I am very proud of him for doing something so daring for charity.

    That should be enough for now right?
    Peace&Love.

  • Pointless.

    Last night I went to see Pointless being recorded with my two pet Lukes. I don’t think I’ve ever watched it before but it was better than a kick in the teeth. It’s pretty much the opposite of Family Fortunes, by which I mean it isn’t hosted by a cunt.

    What amazed me was how annoyed I was by the rest of the audience, I think this is just further evidence of me becoming a cranky old man. Behind me there were a few solid Chelsea & Kensington type arseholes who would pretend they knew the answers as soon as they were revealed and next to them were the aborted version of One Direction, one of whom insisted on kicking my chair until I backed it into his shin. I really hate people. They almost ruined Alexander Armstrong for me.

  • A terrifying realisation on my way into London

    This morning I ran into three friends from school and we ended up commuting together up to the big smoke. Once I was over my mild annoyance at not being able to read my book or write my blog because I was expected to chat I realised that the things we were discussing had taken place a decade before. That time we were running around the IT room playing Stick Cricket, that was TEN YEARS AGO!

    I’ve become an actual person since then, but it feels like the whole thing happened overnight. On the journey this morning we were talking about babies (not mine), mortgages (not mine) and girlfriends (including mine), those are adult conversations that grown ups have, and I was sat there thinking ‘when the fuck did that happen?’ Granted I’m probably the least grown up of the four of us (poo. bum. willy. etc!) but I had a terrifying realisation that we aren’t the kids in baggy school jumpers anymore.

    The strange thing was it took about thirty seconds for those ten years to reverse, as we gathered on the platform. The same kinship returned and we laughed about things that had happened and terrible things we had done and I felt young again.