Tedxpectant

Nick travels down to London today to talk about our long-running bid to bring this writer's story into the public eye once more. When you start researching a bloke who lived down the road in sleepy North Lincs, you don't expect the road to lead to the old Etonian brother of a High Court judge in leafy Ladbroke Grove.

Smalltown Hicks

I'm all for bigging up Bill Hicks. I may have baulked slightly with the Edinburgh Fringe show a couple of years back which amounted to an acerbic masterclass in just learning his goatboyschtick. Which Dennis Leary already had done. But I was gladdened, and indeed, cheered, by news of a nw film about Hicks, American, which interviews more than 30 of Hicks' closest mates and promises a new take on the life of Bill. Except that, on the film's website, they refer constantly to Hicks as Hick's. I give you:

"Recreating Bill Hick’s story has been a journey all of it’s own; traveling all across America to record extensive new interviews, watching hundreds of performances and developing the animation technique over thousands of hours to fully realize the cinematic vision required."

It may just be a lapsed apostrophe, but, quite frankly, it's a scaley pecker of satany substandardry. I hope the film is good, but c'mon guys!

Tommy gone? Oh no he isn't.

I was listening to Six Music a couple of days back when a bulletin announced that Tommy Scott, the singer from Space, had died. I was mildly upset - even trawled through the CDs to find my copy of Spiders (last played - Britpop) and gave a listen to Neighbourhood, Female Of The Species and You and Me Vs The World. Even reports of death won't make the album good, I'm afraid to say.

The following day, it was announced that this was in fact an erroneous report. The fact I, and the producers of 6Music, and these people all fell for it on March 31 is justified, I feel. You can't April Fool with death, and especially not in March. Nonetheless, I bet Space records were played more than they have been in years!

Listening: Dukes Of Stratosphear; Space

View from old soak's chair of Ted's Return Home filming 21/3

Old soak number two

As an extra in me own short film (very Hitchcock), I was somewhat typecast as old soak number two. Not the most illustrious of screen debs, if I make the final cut at all, playing old soak number two (I did try and investigate character's back story, but there wasn't much of one) involved wearing a flat cap, singing "Any Old Iron" and staring at this cut price pot of bitter which, nonetheless, appeared more tasty as the day went on. But wasn't.

Stairlift to heaven

Filming of Ted's Return Home this weekend was at the palatial St Vincents Roman Catholic Club in Hull. You could film allsorts there - out the back there was a small pond which instantly made me think of Chinatown's "very good for glass" coda. And, behind the bar was this stairlift leading to the private, upstairs quarters of Saint Vees. Part Exorcist, part Blues Brothers. Maybe we'll be back after Ted's Return Home is done.

Ted's Return Home