John Hurt appears to be the quintessential English actor, complete with regal use of the Queen’s English and a moustache that would be the envy of Kitchener. It was all a bit intimidating to a student reporter, challenged with finding something interesting to ask this stalwart of the industry at the very end of weeks of non-stop promotion interviews. I feared that the radio interviewer before me might have pushed Hurt to the outer reaches of his tether by asking him to record some soundbites for the morning breakfast show: not a bit of it; he was instantly welcoming, offering me a drink and ushering me over to a small table to sit down with him and chat one-on-one.

Hurt was clearly enthusiastic about The Oxford Murders, his new film co-starring Elijah Wood about a series of murders committed in Oxford that are linked by a mathematical theme. He was adamant that the film re-wrote the conventional murder mystery template by unveiling the action, not like a Miss Marple mystery where the pieces fit together like a puzzle, but by unfolding events before your eyes, revealing twists that you could never possibly have seen coming. Hurt denied that the plot was woven over stereotypical Oxford scenery of tweed-wearing dons and pampered public school kids, instead saying that the film was about developing the idiosyncrasies of each character in a way that did not conform to any preconceived perceptions, although he added that if you considered his natural accent as being traditional Oxford then there’s not a lot he could do about it.

Hurt plays the character of Arthur Seldom, a brilliant maths professor, but did little research for the role, saying only that he spoke to a few people at New College and nothing more, demonstrating the confidence he has in his ability to portray the character on his own terms and in the ‘brilliant writing’.

Although an actor held in great regard, Hurt profusely denied my suggestion that he might now be at the stage in his career where he could pick and choose roles. He made it clear that this is a common myth held about actors of his ilk, saying that there are not many roles about for someone of his age, and that of these, very few are worth pursuing.

In the same vein he bemoaned the state of the British film industry, his view being that ‘this government is doing nothing to help us’, and that although British films were always a challenge to make, it is ‘almost impossible’ to get the funding now. With this depressing indictment of the UK, I asked for his view on Hollywood to which he replied that the big film studios are now doing market research before they make films to ensure they maximise profit, rather than producing movies because they have a director’s passion and an original idea.

‘Surely that’s the wrong way round to do things’ he said; I’m inclined to agree with him.

4 stars out of 5
I must say I had several preconceptions when I received Either Side of Midnight. The understated style attempted on the album cover and McManus’ ‘cool’ projections in the media and on the CD case filled me with unease. Upon beginning the opening tracks I was expecting chirpy and inoffensive, yet bland and unoriginal songs. ‘A solid three stars’, I sighed inwardly as I sat down. As the stellar-based measure of goodness above shows, my
fears were only partially borne out.

Either Side of Midnight is packed from start to finish with upbeat melodies created by McManus and his piano that are truly pleasing to listen to. Jack’s voice is pleasant if unremarkable given the number and quality of musicians of his style around at the moment. Instrumental lines are generally piano led, but acoustic guitar and strings are used to create a rich sound more frequently as the album progresses.

Standout tracks including ‘Milky Way’ and ‘Living in a Suitcase’ are amongst the more upbeat songs packing catchy hooks, the most memorable melodies with suitably high tempos. ‘Fine Time To Lose Your Mind’ and ‘You Can Make It Happen’ fall at the other extreme of the album with attempts at a more moody and epic sound that, while not awful by any stretch, still fall short of the quality of other tracks.

Either Side of Midnight fills a niche situated somewhere between Maroon 5 and The Feeling, and with influences including Jack Johnson and Newton Faulkner. This is one reason why McManus’ debut album falls short of receiving five stars. The music is without serious flaws and is perfect for relaxation on a summer’s day but the same can be said of dozens of artists. Jack McManus is a perfect example of happy but inconsequential music.

3 stars out of 5All we care about is rock and roll, the next big swell, which party to go to. We just wanna let the sunshine in.’

The central lyric of ‘From Head to Sandy Toes’ neatly sums up The Loose Salute’s attitude to music and indeed life in general. Singer, songwriter and drummer Ian McCutcheon, best known for his work in Slowdive and Mojave 3, formed the band, aiming for their music to reflect their lifestyle surfing in Cornwall.

The Loose Salute make little attempt to disguise their influences, which are firmly grounded in ’60s beat-pop, from the first Beach Boys-esque chords of ‘Death Club’ to the pop of the Monkees from whom the band take their name. However, in spreading themselves so thinly over their influences the band’s sound is highly derivative.

Whilst the lyrics are somewhat unimaginative, their delivery cannot be faulted. McCutcheon’s vocals are reminiscent of Elliott Smith and when Lisa Billson assumes vocal duties the effect is stunning as she shifts from melancholy languor to upbeat ecstasy. This is especially evident on the beautiful final ballad ‘Ship on the Ocean’.

The instrumentation on the album is greatly varied, but not so far as to seem like a gimmick and detract from the songs’ overall effect. Tracks are perfectly augmented by steel guitar, banjo, sax and the trumpet solo as ‘Photographs and Tickets’ reaches its climax is a particular highlight.

What’s wrong with an album that chooses not to push musical boundaries? This album shows that there’s great merit in taking a scenic trip over previously tread musical ground when it takes the listener on a picturesque journey to a sunset on a Cornwall beach.

Drum and bass purists may scorn, but groups such as Pendulum provide welcome relief from a music scene saturated with generic indie bands. Tracks such as ‘Granite’ and ‘Slam’ have propelled the Perth-based band onto the global music scene, with upcoming new album In Silico hopefully cementing their position at the forefront of the genre and bass. When a band is accorded the dubious honour of having their songs played at a Merton bop, along with firm favourites such as Busted and Avril Lavigne, then they truly have arrived.

Pendulum are perhaps most (in)famous for blending different musical styles and moving away from the core drum and bass sound. On their music-making process, the band say: ‘It develops naturally, but we tend to write a lot more music that we’re going to use. Then we listen back to it, as fans, and choose the ones that really grab us.’ Obvious enough, maybe, but combining such disparate elements as brass fanfares, rap vocals and spacey keyboards requires more than just a good ear. Or does it? The band say: "We listen to a lot of different music, and when we hear something with a vibe that we think could work with our sound, we’re not afraid to experiment and see if the two sounds will work together. More often than not, they do."

Experimentation is not limited to creating the music. Pendulum have, over the past few months, played more and more of their sets as a live band, instead of hiding behind decks. This creates a different energy and is something that they are enthusiastic about. "When DJ-ing, you’re playing out mastered tracks so there isn’t much room for creativity. But when you play live you’re creating the tracks from the ground up, so you can change them as much as you like, night after night. We find this fulfilling and it gets the crowd more involved."

Asking about influences from a band which uses samples from Spider Man 2 and the original Charlie And The Chocolate Factory was probably not the greatest of ideas, and true to form Pendulum throw up a surprise or two. Despite being a drum and bass band, they comment that "We don’t listen to much drum and bass." You have to respect their bravery, at least. In spite of this, they add "but there’re definitely a couple of artists who we never keep our eyes and ears off for too long, because they always come up with something fresh and inspiring – Dillinja and Hazard would be on the list for sure."

Pendulum are known for pushing genre boundaries, and the new album promises no change in this attitude. Will the guys ever find their sound and stick to it? Apparently not. "We all have far too much ADD to ever stick to one sound. As soon as we finish a tune we’re already wanting to be working on the next one."

You may love them or hate them, view them as creative geniuses or the drum and bass equivalent of cheese, but Pendulum can’t be faulted in their creative drive or determination to explore new musical ground.

"These things are hard to say. I’m not sure what’s true and what isn’t."

This is the opening of The Sabotage Café, Joshua Furst’s tale of a dysfunctional family relationship born of painful memories and mental illness. Welcome to Dinkytown, Minneapolis, scene of the 1980s punk rebellion from which Julia has escaped, and still home to an underground world of narcotics, anarchy and tempestuous youth.

Into this meleé runs Cheryl, Julia’s 16-year-old daughter, escaping the confines of suburbia and her mother’s oppressive presence. As we are drawn into Cheryl’s world of drugs, sex and squalor mixed with hashed-up ideals about the demise of ‘the establishment’, we also journey into Julia’s past, picking up the pieces of a life diverted and damaged. How much of her experience is real, and how much is imagined by the fearful and delusional Julia remains unclear, as Julia’s disturbed mind produces illusions which become increasingly difficult to distinguish from flashback and reality.

What Furst does brilliantly is portray through projected emotion and internalised argument the lonely struggle of each character to find meaning in their situation, or to deny it. The gung-ho bravado of the boys Cheryl ends up with is nothing more than a face for their insecurities, the outcome of youth burdened by their parents’ blunders as well as their own.

Furst’s blunt and epithetic manner  shocks rather than draws sympathy at first, but his open style creates the sense of hopelessness in which the book’s characters dwell, empty and needy, clawing into each other’s lives as if some solace can be found by living vicariously. His compassionate exploration of life in the grimy fallout of a failed revolution and the desire to obliterate the self is a first novel to be proud of, and one that provokes.