Our weekly drama pubcast returns with a roundup of the week in Oxford drama and an interview with Oscar Wood, director of 'Big Breathe In.' 
Part One: Alice: A Peep Through the Looking Glass
Part Two: Interview with Oscar Wood
Part Three: King John and Crescendos in Blue
Check back weekly for new episodes! 

It’s hard to imagine a static, single-act monologue being so gripping, but Wish I Had a Sylvia Plath is nothing short of a theatrical triumph. The classic ’50s housewife – loyal to her husband, caring mother and kitchen lover – Elizabeth Gray initially reveals herself to us by removing her shocked-headed head from out of her gas oven. The effect is instantly mesmerising, and rather than ruining it with continual rants about how imprisoned she feels, the play becomes an endless energetic see-saw, with scenes that involve a mock cookery TV show, conversations with her husband or games of hide-and-seek with her child (all the different characters voiced by Gray herself).

Nothing about the drama is complicated. Her husband has cheated on her, she has an insufferable child, and she is intent on committing suicide. However, we instantly feel pity for her position, caught up as she is in a relationship with a writer while she herself longs to have something she writes published. Her desire is so strong that it is almost more hurtful of the husband to suggest that she does not have the skill to write than to see him cavorting with another woman. We see this action take place in a recorded black and white film, its scenes projected onto the back wall of the stage. The silent footage, which Gray vocalises in some of the scenes, helps to keep the action varied, but all the play’s exuberance comes from Gray’s performance itself. Edward Anthony’s script effectively presses all the right satirical buttons (the recipes, including one for “an ungrateful, cheating husband”, recited in a mock ’50s fashion, are cleverly construed) but it is Gray’s delivery, ebbing from uncontrolled madness to touching serenity that works to move the audience. When we see her take the final steps to her end, reciting the recipe for “a perfect suicide”, there is almost a temptation to cry, simply because this one person has had to perform (literally) so much, so quickly, only to end up suffocating, with her head stuck inside the very source of her imprisonment as a means to escape. For something original and greatly affecting, make sure you go along to see this. There’s a reason why Gray received a Best Solo Artist Award this year at the Edinburgh Festival for her month-long run. Oxford is lucky to have her ready to perform it at least a few more times – you’ll leave feeling glad to have had an Elizabeth Gray.

Wish I Had a Sylvia Plath runs at 8:00pm (additional 2:00pm performance on Saturday 27th), Pilch Theatre on Jowlett Walk through Saturday 27th October.

The Blues looked to kickstart their faltering start to the campaign by
taking on newly-promoted Cardiff in a top-tier BUSA South Premier clash.
Oxford started brightly from the first touch of the ball, pressuring the
Cardiff back four via the new diamond midfield formation being trialled by
coach John Shaw in a bid to freshen up the tried and tested women's system.
The tactical shift bore almost immediate fruit, with a switch around the
back through the pivotal Jo Sumpter resulting in a right flank advance. The
sprightly Jess Barnes, well served all day by the midfield, tore away from
her marker with a characteristic change of pace and fed Beth Wild who
rattled home an unerring across goal shot to open the scoring. Buoyant
Oxford were still tested by the immensely talented Cardiff spine but quickly
learned to frustrate their talismanic players and dominate proceedings.

Despite conceding a succession of short corners, Cardiff couldn't find a
riposte, largely due to the imperious form of Jess Hughes and the composed
defensive duo of fresher Jo McNaught-Davis and captain Vicky Anderson.
Hughes brought out a spectacular double-save midway through the second half
after another threatening Cardiff break and the near-miss spurred the Blues
into action, as the ball was brought out of defence again a rapid break was
spearheaded by Alice Cook, seemingly reborn in her behind-the-front-two
role. The forward phalanx won a timely short corner but the initial shot
was saved, only for the ball to fall to Sumpter in the second phase who,
with time on her side, made no mistake from the top of the D. Oxford
continued to create chances and a fast end-to-end game was enjoyed by the
modest watching throng but they couldn't pull away into a further lead
despite many clear cut chances, and the game ended 2-0

That's how the people of Nineveh are described the Book of Jonah, but we might equally claim it about the Germans. Or at least the political campaigners.As last Saturday's neo-Nazi rally approached in the district of Hausen here in Frankfurt, posters started to appear everywhere. They were, unsurprisingly, all attacks on the National Democratic Party of Germany, the NPD, who were protesting against the construction of a mosque in the area.Some of the posters just say "No Nazi". Others call for "religious freedom". But many simply state: "Gegen Rechts". Against the Right. "Links kommt" (the Left is on its way) is another common one. I've seen them all around Germany.There are two problems with this. One is that, by polarising the two stances, it suggests that you have to be on the Left to oppose the Far Right. This is not the case. Centre-right parties have no time for racist groups and are often quicker to call for their ban than the Left are. Compare David Cameron's firm stance on Hizb ut-Tahrir with the Labour government's decision to keep them legal. The second is the implication that you're either with the Nazis or against them. Many on the Right – the moderate Right – abhor the extremists but sympathise with their concerns about the changing face of Europe. They also want to uphold the original culture and values of whichever country the debate is taking place in. They are also worried about the potential problems of multiculturalism. But they don't believe they should be 'solved' with Nazi methods. And they don't want to associate themselves with the skinheads who march in the name of nationalism.Like the BNP, the German Far Right are not as 'right' as most people think. As conservative commentator Melanie Phillips has argued, their policies mark them out as pretty leftish. I don't suppose the NPD were there last weekend to march against high taxes or excessive nationalisation, which would really make them a right-wing party.
Maybe people should stop this polarised outlook and take those misleading posters down.
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By Chantal Hadley The nouvelle scène is, well, pretty self explanatory. It’s new: many of the bands in it have only released their debut albums within the last year. It definitely falls under the umbrella of rock music. And it’s French.Musically, the genre is pretty standard: you’ve got guitars, screaming vocals (which somehow seem less abrasive with the unaspirated aitches of a French accent), lots of guitars and a good solid drum beat. Synths play a pretty big part and the scène owes a lot to Daft Punk, Cassius, and other French dance music of the late 90s. Pravda’s ‘Je Suis French (Do not Touch)’ plays around with mechanising the human voice and has a slightly Stephen Hawking quality to it. Naast go one step further and their bassist Clod Naast (né Claude, naturellement) also plays the Hammond Organ. The fast-paced shouting match which is ‘Je Te Cherche’ has a brief respite in the form of carnival-esque organ-playing before Gustave Naast resumes yelling that he’s looking for you.Lyrically, many of the songs are just as full of attitude as the gutsy electric guitar riffs would have you believe. Common themes focus on defining their own generation and lashing out against artificial social stereotyping and pigeonholing. Pravda especially, in their songs ‘Je Suis French (Do Not Touch)’ and ‘A L’Ouest’ follow this pattern. Even on a basic grammatical level, there’s a lot of “je suis…” being thrown around. ‘Je Suis French…’ also shows the genre’s double-edged sword: they seem to want to retain their intrinsic frenchness, but with the music market, even in France, being monopolised by international artists, they don’t have a choice. At the very least, their easy command of two languages, often switching between French and English in the middle of songs, is impressive. Pravda’s myspace list them as being an Indie band and although Naast sometimes sound  a bit like (and have similar haircuts to…) The Fratellis or The White Stripes I wouldn’t go so far as to equating the whole genre with them.  Naast (Mauvais Garçon) and Les Plasticines (Zazie Fait La Bicyclette) are 1960s-inspired in many ways, but Pravda leans more towards electronica. The nouvelle scène likes to define itself, but I think perhaps it is still so nouvelle that it isn’t really sure what it wants to be yet. At any rate, the eldest member of Naast is 18, and Les Plasticines were all born in 1988, so the genre has plenty of time to grow into the shoes of rock française.

Cara Bleiman examines the relationship between music and politics.To ask whether music has the potential to be political is completely old hat, well old hat pins actually. The story of Stravinsky’s 1913 “Rite of Spring” premiere and the ensuing street-riot (where the pins made a violent cameo) is well-known, as are Shostakovich’s muffled and now considered rather ambiguous musical protests against the Soviet regime. However, it was with pacifist works such as Benjamin Britten’s “War Requiem” of 1961 that classical music’s monopoly on the ‘political’ ended. From the Vietnam War to the fall of the Berlin wall, the new voices of revolt were all singing Rock. Last year, Tom Stoppard’s Rock ‘N’ Roll captured this era, focusing on the lead up to the overthrow of the socialist government in the then Czechoslovakia during the Velvet Revolution of 1989. Mirroring the experiences of communist party member and Cambridge academic, Max, with his Czech ex-student Jan, Stoppard gave the foreground to a soundtrack of  Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones and Czech band “The Plastic People of the Universe” – who were ultimately the political heroes of the play. And the real-life story of the Plastics really lives up to their heroic portrayal; touring secretly under the auspices of lecturing on art they would sneak in tracks as supposed aural illustrations. Their songs weren’t overtly anti-communist but in their refusal to compromise on anything – from hair length to English lyrics – they made disengagement into dissidence with their front-man, Ivan Jirous, being sent to jail four consecutive times during those years.Fast forward to today and it’s the turn of pop musicians to hurl a few insults establishment’s way with the Iraq war and Poverty at the top of the agenda. With the rise of the commercialised music industry and the cult of celebrity the potential power of pop musicians appears limitless. The attempts of various music celebs, who get those itsy bitsy twangs of social conscience to change the world, have arguably left the world unimpressed. Such attempts at politically inspiring pop raise one question in particular – can you be successfully political if your means of expression are not earnest?The success of Red Nose Day proved that serious charitable aims could be furthered by comedy and set the mark for the do-gooding responsibilities of the new celeb class, but what seems to confuse our new generation of budding pop philanthropists is that charity is not the same as politics. Charity, is almost more of a religious ideal – a Christian virtue, in fact. Advocating love, kindness, food and water for all is certainly worthy but it isn’t all that contentious. It isn’t that surprising though that these advocates should produce average, accessible and uncontroversial sentiments when it is these exact characteristics in their music which have secured their existence as pop stars.Charity fundraising isn’t really the problem here though – because they are damn good at fundraising. It’s when pop stars make that leap to try and overtly inspire political action that things start to go wrong. Shakira’s song ‘East Timor’ is a fantastic example of political pop failure at it’s very worst. Don’t get me wrong, it’s an alright track if you ignore it’s political intentions – and by no means does music have to be serious and weighty to be valued – but to string together cliched critiques of the judiciary system, mass media, democracy and the west’s failure to provide adequate humanitarian support to East Timor with a neo-disco chorus of “East Timor/ Timor, Timor/ Ooh/ Ah, ah, ah, ah/ Ah, ah, ah, ah”, is utterly crass.MIA on the other hand, has enough of a revolutionary whiff about her to get taken seriously by both broadsheets and discerning ‘pop’ critics alike. With her father an activist in Sri-lankan guerilla group, the Tamil Tigers, and an eventful upbringing as a refugee in London, her credentials for producing ‘authentic’ political/musical statements are promising. Her most recent album Kala (released this August), is a multicontinental mashup resulting from an impromptu world tour due to VISA trouble and a blockade on her Brooklyn apartment (or so the story goes) and succeeds on two counts of Authenticity and Originality which would usually qualify her for Rock Heroism. But her collaborations with Timbaland and being just on the cusp of Nelly Furtado–like status mean we can’t really disqualify her from Popdom. MIA may be one of the first, then, of a promising new breed but although her work has a genuine political content it doesn’t mean that her listeners are actually inspired to act on it. This may have something to do with the more subliminal politics of sampling. Since Paul Simon made Graceland with the Ladysmith Black Mambazo choir he has been accused of taking credit and exploiting the music of a culture which wasn’t his own. Similarly, tracks like the Chemical Brothers ‘Galvanise’ use sampling almost in the same way as colonial folk-song collectors – absorbing up ‘exotic’ samples and translating them for western audiences. Part of MIA’s appeal to the broadsheet reader is this exotic otherness (dubbed ‘worldbeat’), but once placed in this box, her political views are to be admired from afar rather than engaged with and it’s with her own ironic manipulation of these expectations that she makes her best political statement.Music is at it’s most powerful when we let our guard down to it’s visceral sensations, which is when it’s politically dangerous as a vehicle to propaganda – but however overtly political a pop song may aim to be, this will always jar with our aural association, with it’s function as dance music, background music or entertainment and bar us from considering it as anything else.
The political power and scope of music will be discussed at the Battle of Ideas, a two-day festival organised by the Institute of Ideas on the 27-28th October at the Royal College of Art 
Cartoon by Sofia Kaba-Ferreiro

Six years after Kevin Douch founded Big Scary Monsters, the Oxford-based label has established itself as a minor fixture in the industry. Set up when he was a bored 6th former who, like so many others, thought “Wouldn’t it be cool to work in music?”, it gave Get.Cape.Wear.Cape.Fly his first break. It is now home to somewhat more obscure acts, the likes of Surrey post-hardcore band, Meet Me in St Louis and Kent post-rockers, Yndi Halda. Even so, Douch is unsure that his label is taken seriously: “Then again, who would with a name like Big Scary Monsters?”
Even so, the one-man label would like to think BSM could be a legitimate long-term home for bands on the rise. “I hope that the label won’t always be perceived as a stepping stone”, he explains, “Obviously the bands gaining the recognition they deserve is the main goal here, but if they can achieve that whilst with BSM then even better”.
Passion for the music is what drives Douch in his work. “I often get offered bands which I can see going on to sell a lot of records, but if I don’t like them I just can’t do it”. His current crop certainly piques his interest, Meet Me in St Louis a particular tip. “I think next year could be a good one for them: it’s so nice to see people singing along at gigs and leaving lovely comments on their myspace page”.
That sort of community spirit is at the heart of Douch’s vision for the independent label in the MP3 age, “something which might stand a chance of outliving the current record label mould”. Not that Douch knows, any more than the rest of us, what the future holds for the industry. Big Scary Monsters may never attain the prestige, or profits, of indies like Rough Trade or Domino Records. However, along with various other cottage industries across the country, and the world, it provides an invaluable service, supplying niche music tastes with the personal touch so lacking in the faceless multinationals that dominate the industry. In a time of great uncertainty for the music business, that might just be enough.
For more information, visit www.bsmrocks.com

By Roland ScarlettThe cheesy pop that defined the 90s is increasingly out of vogue and British music is searching for artistic credibility. Placing themselves at the forefront of this search are Hard-Fi. It is a mere two years since their happy-go-lucky, anthemic tunes propelled them to #1 in the album charts and secured them the accolade of a Mercury nomination. Despite all this, Hard-Fi are ‘maturing’ and the differences between Hard-Fi ancien and Hard-Fi nouveau become apparent on first sight of their new album.The ‘design’ of a plain yellow inlay with only the band’s name and the disclaimer “no cover art” was, according to drummer, Steve Kemp, no mere act of rebellion or publicity stunt. Rather, it was a “conscious decision to move away from the staid, boring art” record companies favour. In a time when album art is losing relevance, most frequently seen on a two inch ipod screen, Kemp believes Hard-Fi “had the bollocks to do something about it” and produce something bold. Peter Saville described it as “the white album of the digital age”. Kemp dismisses the widespread criticism of the music press.After the controversy comes the music; Once Upon A Time In The West sees the band’s original raw sound and poppy hooks being softened with the addition of strings and more solemn compositions. Though the band has changed much since their first album, they still deal in what Kemp would call “universal human emotions” of alienation, love and despair. Hard-Fi have ambition: they want to be an international band of the people. Kemp refers to Oasis’s ‘Cigarettes and Alcohol’, a song to which “the man on the street thought ‘fucking hell that’s me’”. He hopes his music provokes the same reaction.Indeed, despite Kemp’s protestations otherwise, Hard-Fi’s second album almost strains itself to deal with international politics and the dangers of social exclusion. It almost seems that this second album is exaggerating what simply came naturally to the “chavs from Staines” the first time round. Will the band’s changing sound alienate their existing fans? Kemp doesn’t think so – the album is already #1. Still, as Hard-Fi have discovered from the controversy over their album cover, sometimes people prefer the familiar to bold, sweeping artistic statements or ‘digital age’ proclamations.

By Emma Butterfield**** I feel a certain affinity with Róisín Murphy, as she’s clearly a frustrated science undergraduate. Why else would she refer to oxytocin (a hormone implicated in pair bonding and mate selection) in the title track of the album? She lets slip her innermost thoughts again in ‘Primitive’, which is actually all about evolution. She’s obviously not trying to break America. ‘Primitive’ is also the cheesiest and most sincere chill-out track I’ve ever heard – it’s what you might expect of Engelbert Humperdinck if he was a female science teacher.‘Overpowered’ is stripped down to a ticking snare drum and a chirpy honking synthetic bassline, with her vocals dominating. The combination works best when she’s actually singing, and not pretending to be Sophie Ellis-Bextor. Parts of the album have a juicy 70’s soul sound that’s listenable, seriously tongue-in-cheek (I hope), and slightly at odds with the mundane electronica of the filler tracks. Surprisingly, her voice does better with the more challenging material, and warms up to the big declarations of ‘Tell Everybody’, by which point she’s exhorting us to tell everybody that she’s our baby. She’s clearly more interested in evolution than in feminism. This self-subjugation takes a slightly creepy tone by the final track ‘Scarlet Ribbons’, at which point she’s breathily whispering that she’ll always be our little girl, and do as we ask. Apparently this loyalty is due to the listener because he/we found a scarlet ribbon for her hair, rather than her Oedipus complex, but I’m not sure I believe her.‘Let me know’ is an unabashed booty call, set to a twanging funk with syncopated hand-claps – begging for sex never sounded so good. The clapping also features on ‘Dear Miami’, another lounge number which is so laid back that it doesn’t bother going anywhere for 3 minutes. She’s at her best when asserting herself vocally and lyrically – if she burnt her bra she’d be perfect.

 By Carl Cullinane 
***When is an album not an album? When it’s an agglomeration of an EP and some bonus tracks is certainly one answer, and the one which Montreal act Land of Talk offer in the form of Applause Cheer Boo Hiss. The EP was released in 2006 to much acclaim, and 3 new tracks have been added to the European release to bring it up to album length. Structurally, this does the record no favours, but it’s a strong collection of songs nonetheless.The album kicks off with the rollicking ‘Speak to Me Bones’, a propulsive crunchy riff allied to an aggressive melodic vocal. This combination is very much Land of Talk’s stock in trade. Female indie vocalists are ten a penny these days, but Lizzie Powell offers more rasp than honey. She is without doubt the band’s most potent weapon, settling comfortably in the Cat Power/ PJ Harvey tradition, if possibly too comfortably. There are moments here when Powell sounds more like Cat Power than Power herself.In second track ‘Sea Foam’ even the backing track sounds like You Are Free-era Cat Power. Derivative, yes, but it is done with enough brio to deflect such criticisms. ‘Summer Special’ rounds off a strong opening trio of songs, offering once again a striking vocal melody and no shortage of humour, as Powell looks down her nose at her surroundings: “Look at those girls/ So young, so young/ Still piss their pants.” Unfortunately, as the record goes on, the lack of variety starts to pall. The guitars keep crunching and Powell keeps howling. Of the extra tracks, while ‘Young Bridge’ offers a driving riff and ‘Dark Nature Places’ is pleasingly bittersweet, little new is brought to the table.
Applause Cheer Boo Hiss isn’t going to set the world alight, but it shows enough promise to indicate that Land of Talk have something to offer. They have an gift for melody and a freshness that has been lacking from much recent British indie rock.