Job Interview? Good Luck...

What happens to logical, otherwise articulate people in job interviews? I assume it isn’t just me that has this problem.

Getting an interview is not the issue. On a CV or covering letter you can sound like a normal, functional person. The same goes for when you actually manage to get the job. Once in, you’re often just as good at it as you said you were in your logical and articulate CV (or pretty damn close). However, no matter how much experience you have, or how capable you know you can be in the role, as soon as you walk through the door and are confronted by a boardroom and a suit, you suddenly transform into some kind of rambling idiot who is more akin to someone who has been let out on day release than a potentially capable member of whatever company it is you’re applying for.

I am still plagued by the ongoing and unsolvable problem that during my day-to-day life, whatever it is I’m doing (be it checking into Hotels or doing the payroll at work) I still feel like a big kid playing at being an adult. However, it’s only when I walk into a job interview that it feels like I’ve truly been rumbled. As soon as I see the suit looking back at me, I get that long forgotten feeling of being hauled into the headmaster’s office. I can already hear the line;

‘We’re very disappointed. Now I’m afraid we’re going to have to call your parents’.

The only upside is now that I’m a proper grown up, I can choose not to inform my mother that I’ve behaved so disappointingly, and can hide the fact that I still have no idea what I want to do with my life, and therefore avoid the lecture about ‘applying yourself and having a little direction’.

This has all sprung freshly into my mind as I recently got an interview for a job a genuinely think I would enjoy, and be very good at, thank you very much. However, the interview was yesterday, and I spent most of yesterday afternoon reliving the horror in those short sharp bursts the re-enter your consciousness like a malicious pixie poking you in the head and laughing, reminding you what a useless berk you are, despite the fact that you’re doing your best to lose yourself in red wine and conversation. The interview was for a part time journalist position with a lovely little company who want to help the community, and when I read the job spec, I was really excited. Not only did it sound like something I could do, but something I would enjoy, whilst simultaneously appeasing my social conscience a bit. The initial panic set in when my interviewer mentioned he was the financial director of a company. There go the alarm bells. I forgot instantly that I am actually a manager, and I can do my own finances responsibly (well, unless I see a really nice dress or something, but hey, I’m female, that’s standard). My first thought was ‘Shit. He’s a proper businessman’. Good start. Second pitfall of the whole debacle was the mention that someone else running for the post was currently working at the BBC.

‘Not the Beeb! I can’t compete with a proper jouro from the Beeb.’

And that was it, thus began the comedy of errors. I proceeded to madly flap my hands about in a show of gesticulation closely resembling semaphore for the alphabetically challenged. The manic nervous laughter kicked in. Closely followed by forgetting my interviewers name shortly after mentioning how good I am at remembering names, which, incidentally was one of the necessities of the role. It is as if your mind has an evil, or at least playful, side with a very bad sense of humour. It’s the side that normally laughs under its breath at other people’s humiliation. I suppose it’s probably karma for laughing at the woman I saw running to catch the bus and who went full pelt into the Perspex bus stop last week. Anyway, I digress.

Basically, the result was that after doing a very convincing impression of someone unable to perform any requirements of the role, a role which I had entered the room thinking I would be perfect for, I left feeling like a small child having who hasn’t worked hard enough, and is letting no one down but themselves. At least I didn’t get a letter home. However, my little sister had informed my mother that I had an interview. She called just I had got to the pub with a consolatory glass of red to see how it went. And the conversation began thus:

‘So it didn’t go very well then?’
‘Well, I’ll wait to hear ma’.
‘You should have done more research’.
‘Yes ma’
‘And where are you? It’s very noisy. Are you in the pub? You’re not drinking at this time of day are you Natalie…’

I might just skip the middleman and say I’m grounded for a week so I don’t have to go outside and deal with anyone. Better luck next time?

Here We Go Again... 2011!

Well the hangover has finally worn off and having now emerged bleary eyed and hopeful, 2011 seems to have kicked off to a spectacular start. Once again, any faith in the New Year improving on any of the nonsense the previous year had to offer has been totally unfounded. Naïve I know. How are we to expect anything better, given the sorry state of affairs that reached its culmination but a few short weeks ago? The year kicked off with a political and economic situation so fucked to present as a solution not one, but a momentous union of two absolutely feckless upper class moron leaders who inspire, at best apathy, and at worst the desire to massacre the pair of them. Or at least cut off their expense accounts and make them go and live with the poor people. God forbid. The best hope we have so far is that they’ll manage to raise education fees to the extent that eventually no one will be informed enough to understand the intricate and self serving motives behind whatever it is they manage to screw up next.

It also seems to be a year in which everyone has lost faith in any modern relationship having even a hopeful and underlying chance of survival. Monogamy and lasting love seem to be a quaint fifties notion, cemented by the fact that most couples had to stay together bonded by financial necessity. This is a situation the current government seems keen to replicate by economically penalising those who mess up their relationships. To err is human. To financially castrate is divine. Apparently.

But hey, it’s not like any other applicable solution seems to have presented itself. Why not look backwards with rose tinted glasses (the modern addition may now be rose tinted 3D specs, although the fifties also had the 3D cinematic phenomenon sorted I believe) if the only alternative is to look forward into a world where having failed to distract ourselves with nightmarish fairy tales of potential terrorists lurking around every corner, the only distraction we now have is watching ‘celebs’ eating kangaroo bollocks in a fake jungle setting or the X Factor. I mean, who cares about relationships or politics when we can ponder whether or not Cheryl Cole will get her tattoos removed or if she’s screwing some dancer.

We can’t even afford to drown our sorrows down the pub anymore. So down to Tesco for some tinnies and back to the sofa it will have to be. And what are we urged to do in order to change this situation? Get famous. No one gives a damn how. Get your tits out maybe. Sing Over the Rainbow. Tell the Sun just how much Meow Meow messed up your life. Or ketamin messed up your kidneys. Or seek out the next fashionable drug to sweep the streets, name it something catchy and ban it without bothering to listen to any researchers on the matter. Just make sure the sensationalist media is listening. We don’t need research. Sod investigative journalism. We have Wiki Leaks or the anonymously tipped rumour mill to keep us going. Maybe try and catch some callous nutter chucking a cat in a bin on CCTV. Everyone will quickly forget about the larger tragedies and corruption the world.

The moral to 2011 seems to run thus; Don’t think, don’t expect anything to last, and for God’s sake don’t expect any of it mean anything. It’s not the modern mantra to strive for any substance. Unless a token glance into some Eastern spirituality will ease your conscience and give you a fleeting sense of purpose – do yoga or a meditation class for a couple of weeks. It is January and therefore time to resolve to try, and the rapidly fail at committing to something after all. We just need to keep chasing our fifteen minutes. Or money. Or just buy something. Or try for better looks. That’ll make us happy. And we can chase the dream for longer now that we can fill our faces with botox. No one will know the difference. If you pick that route they wont even see the frown lines or the pain and emptiness in your eyes at having failed so miserably to achieve a goal that was an ephemeral fallacy in the first place.

We’ll all be so beautiful that you wont even notice the pointlessness of it all.

Interview with Radio 1's Dominic Byrne about their band 'Folkface' - playing @ Prom in Bristol Aug 6th.

Interview with Radio 1'd Comedy Dave & Doninc Byrne

Dominic Byrne & Dave 'Comedy Dave' Vitty are 'FOLKFACE' - Interview about their first Bristol gig

What did you make of Bristol?

Bristol was great! We’ve both been here before, but never as Folkface. Its night one of our tour, and we couldn’t have asked for a better crowd. We had major rehearsals before hand in the village hall where I live, which at least gave us a rough idea of what we were doing. The crowd was brilliant, the venue was great, and everyone here is called Dave – and I like Dave’s!
So Bristol hasn’t put you off doing the rest of the tour?
No. I think Bristol really suits us. We were saying so when we were driving in. Bristol has a lovely arty feel to it. It’s really laid back, and although we aren’t really that arty, we are really laid back, so it suited us well! We couldn’t have asked for a better start really.

So is this the first step on the road to bidding farewell to the Radio stuff and becoming ‘proper’ musicians?

No. It’s something that started on the Chris Moyle’s show, and we thought it would be interesting to see what we could do with it. Venues like this are absolutely perfect. In our heads, we’re playing Wembley stadium. It’s an indulgence for us. Genuinely I thought the crowd were lovely, and there were lots of hands in the air, which is always a good sign. We don’t want to give too much away about what we do in the gig, or we’ll spoil it for anyone who may come to the future gigs, but it’s not just music, there’s a certain amount of audience interaction, which is really fun. Obviously it was the first night for us in Bristol, and you never know quite what is going to happen from one song to the next. I really enjoyed not knowing what was going to happen. And Dave’s noseflute was amazing this evening I think.

How different is performing as Folkface from your dealings with radio 1? What did it feel like being the ‘feature’?

It’s weird, because we’re used to being part of the backline I suppose. We’re usually just part of the team. That’s quite comforting really, because in a nice way, you don’t get all of the attention. Then walking in tonight you panic and think, ‘Oh God, they’re all here to see us’. It carries with it a certain level of expectation and responsibility, but there was no animosity whatsoever in the crowd. It was a bit like doing a gig for family and friends. The fact that it was so friendly meant that we were totally at ease. I mean, well, any gig that has a raffle half way through has a friendly vibe! That and the self appointed Q & A session. I mean the Arctic Monkeys never did a Q & A session. And they’ve definitely never done a raffle.

When you’re interviewing famous band with Radio 1, have you always had the itch? The feeling that you want to be there, doing what they are?

Well, we get a lot of bands through the doors at radio 1, and an awful lot of them are very good. I wouldn’t even dare compare Folkface to any of them, but there are few who you think, well, they shouldn’t even be there, let alone be being played on Radio 1. Not naming and names obviously. But Folkface, well it’s just tongue in cheek. It’s a bit of a laugh. We’d just like people to like it, and that’s the only level it’s at. We wouldn’t want it to be more serious than that. We took rehearsals quite seriously. But all we wanted to do was hope that we didn’t massively screw it up, and to remember at least most of the words. And I don’t think we screwed up majorly. It was ok. No. Scrap that. Bristol was a triumph. Prom was a perfect starting point, there were lots of friendly faces, and we had loads of fun.

So will you continue Folkface until you get bored?

Well, who knows. Either that or until everyone else gets bored! I think the decision about how long we will continue will be made for us by the fans. If we have any!

Any plans to release an album?

Well, who’s to say. The world is our oyster. It would be nice though, having a folk album. Who knows. Maybe we could do one and call it who knows.

Check out www.theprom.co.uk for gig photos & upcoming gigs

Bristol - Drug Problem?

With two universities and a massive student population, Bristol has been named one of the coolest cities in the country. People like Banksy have made Bristol’s street art infamous (did anyone manage miss the unfeasibly massive queue outside the museum during his exhibition?) and areas like Stokes Croft have worked tirelessly to drag themselves from rough and run down to become ‘Bristol’s cultural quarter’. Like any other large city, Bristol has a ‘drug problem’. What’s arguably different here is that many of Bristol’s inhabitants don’t consider it a ‘problem’. The people who enjoy the cities seedy affair with drug use are as varied in their habits as the range of drugs on offer.
The selection is huge – and available in most areas of Bristol (although you need to head to places like St. Pauls to get crack or heroin apparently). This may well be the case in many cities. However, the thing that sets Bristol apart is the commonality of drug use.
So, is the scene is simply part of Bristol’s character? Drugs usually link with music, fashion, art and culture – so which came first, the street art and the music, or the drug use? I spoke to a few people involved in the scene (whose names, for obvious reasons I have changed here) about Bristol’s habit.
After becoming homeless aged 12, Mark began stealing drugs to sell on, and has been a dealer ever since.
He explained ‘I’d break into houses and take drugs and money. I wouldn’t take goods because you can get into trouble with the police. You can’t phone up the police and say, oh sorry officer, but someone has taken my drugs, so it was just safer’.
He hasn’t taken drugs himself for around 5 years.
‘I’ve got lawyers that come in three times a day, and still hold down a job. I don’t know what it is about Bristol, but everyone is just so laid back about it. People look down on the crack and smack, but weed, coke and pills, everyone is doing it. It’s just looked at like drinking in the pub really. And I personally don’t see there’s much difference’.
He also used to deal in London and believes dealing in Bristol isn’t so rough. ‘I lived in London for a couple of years and people are much more likely to beat you up to score…I know less people here that don’t take drugs than do, but that might just be because of the work I’m in!’
Joe, a dealer from Sheffield, comes to Bristol for nights out – ‘there’s a lot more drugs here, and they’re easier to get hold of. In Sheffield, if you don’t know those sorts of people, you’ll struggle. Down here you can ask anybody on a night out and chances are you can get what you want. There seem to be a lot more young people and students into drugs in Bristol. The Sheffield scene is more isolated…in Bristol it’s everywhere’.
Rightly or wrongly, it seems Bristol has a more tolerant attitude to drug use, or at least to some drug use, than other cities, despite the problems it brings.
Mark also said ‘People kick off on coke, and skag and crack bring no end of problems. Regeneration of places like St. Pauls and Stokes Croft will just spread the problem further. And it’s not like drug use is only confined to deprived areas anyway, it’s just what drug people take that differs. St Pauls for example is a place where you’d sell more crack or heroin, but I sell there because people need to buy the coke so they can turn it into crack, and that’ll mix now that the richer people are coming’.
So maybe the drug scene here is constantly changing, as is the music, art and culture. What drugs different people take and why is also obviously inextricably linked to affluence and area, and effected by social problems and forces. But for the time being at least, Bristol still seems set on getting high and enjoying the ride.

Gig Review - Friendly Fires - Not too bowled over I must say!

Freindly Fired Gig Review

CD Review - The Balky Mule - Length of the Rail

Read My Review Here