Well, the talk at the Dana Centre on 'The Physics of the Impossible' went well, I think. Michio Kaku turned out to be sweet, charming, and very open to answering annoying questions from authors on subjects such as Planck lengths and the holographic universe. The audience were well up for it too, asking some serious questions. My own ten minutes I recall only as gabble, with lots of handwaving. I spent most of the time interviewing Prof. Kaku. He's basically of the opinion that we're heading for
Star Trek, with certain aspects being sooner to arrive and some further away. He's anti-singularity (that is, the
Terminator version), not neccessarily on the basis that it would require a number of unlikely things to happen in a row (including the human race saying 'yes, AI, off you go and play on the internet', AI being possible, AI not regarding themselves as part of human culture, etc.) but on the basis that there are physical limits to processing power and memory size. Which is interesting. The phrase 'whatever a mind is' came up several times in our conversations. He's also unwilling to write off the idea of a conscious universe, for instance as a quantum computer that's running a program of some kind. I left with a spring in my step, having checked my mental impression of the current state of cosmology against the cutting edge, and found an interesting upgrade.
Yesterday we popped along to the Wychwood Festival, the sort of homespun gathering for those with children, recreational vehicles and nostalgia about mud and ecstacy where the MC mentions wedding anniversaries onstage. And you know, at my age, none the worse for that. Twenty years ago I'd have been upset not to have some sort of mystical revelation on a festival weekend, not I'm just delighted to find easy parking. We sat down in front of the main stage, and only moved to get ice cream and sombreros, falling asleep and reading Adam Roberts (note, two things not related, Yellow Blue Tibia very good novel indeed) in the gaps between bands. The highlight of the earlier bands was Kissmet -
An energetic bhangra/rock fusion outfit that went straight for audience involvement, getting people up and dancing within seconds with those huge drum sounds of Indian dance, and a rock side that reminded me of nothing other than Primal Scream at their most e-generation point. A recommended daily allowance of 'hare krishnas' to 'Theme from Peter Gunn' and a stonking bhangra version of 'Whole Lotta Love' were matched by the oomph of their own stuff. They did turn the audience up to eleven and then try and keep them up there throughout, a feet I've only seen managed a couple of times (once, don't laugh, by Transvision Vamp), the sort of thing that the absolute master of stagecraft, Bruce Springsteen (at Glastonbury, he's not going to be satisfied until he's got everyone out of their crystal healing therapy, and he'll have to send Clarence to go lure people from other stages where they might be watching other bands) attempts, and so it must be said they stick around for maybe two numbers too long. But still, excellent stuff, and I await the album.
Oysterband were like sulky geography teachers ('maybe those of you sitting down could get up and dance like the rest of us'). The Beat mostly impressed me from a distance, me having initially written them off as a ska nostalgia act, but gradually being drawn back to the main audience by how modern/authentic they now sounded. And they did that percussive two tone dancing thing with sounds like a combination between puffing your cheeks out and spitting, which I always like, and which there really should be a name for. We were right down the front for Supergrass, and they were excellent, very rocky, getting the whole audience bouncing for 'Moving'. And of course not playing 'Alright', despite the MC having mentioned it in the intro. It would have sounded out of place in such a riff-filled set anyway. But they're mostly my wife's thing, though I appreciate them.
So I'd like mostly to talk about Little Boots. She seems to have ditched her early image as quirky singer/songwriter, and has now revealed that she's nothing less than bloody Kylie. Yes, that good. No, I'm not being ironic. That good. A huge clutch of bouncing electro pop stompers, which she marched through, looking slightly nervous, which only served to charm the audience more. There's Saint Etienne and Goldfrapp in the musical DNA here. She did Freddie Mercury's (or as she introduced it, Giorgio Moroder's, and that says a lot) 'Love Kills', which was brave, and she did it very well. It sounded like there were at least half a dozen hit singles here. She may well get into the top ten tonight. It's where she deserves to be.
The Captain Britain and MI-13 Annual, which forms part of our last storyline, 'Vampire State', is out on Wednesday/Thursday, and the first eight pages of it, featuring some lovely Mike Collins art, can be found here:
And it's summer outside! So all's well in the Cornell house. Until next time, Cheerio!
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