Never too late to do something for the first time so it’s embarrassing to sample operetta this late in life.
Lviv National Opera being the perfect place to start.
Not a sell-out – ticket was 400 hrivna, about £9.
Die Fledermaus
Lviv larks
Lviv’s lively street celebrations almost defy belief more than 550 days after Russia launched its crazed invasion.
Above, crowds gathered to banish the blues as a series of acts entertained citizens before the city suffered its first bomb attack shortly after I left for Kyiv.
All you need is Lviv
Wednesday 8pm: It’s as if there is no war – Lviv is celebrating itself.
Crowds throng the half-mile long piazza in front of the city’s opera house under the watchful eye of national poet Taras Shevchenko, looking down benignly from his plinth, and probably delighted by the spectacle.
Children scamper through the ornamental fountain; old men play backgammon with an intensity you can almost smell; babushki gossip, flashing their immaculate dentistry; Roma children as young as four try to sell you flowers.
A couple snog on one bench – unusual to see that in Ukraine – a sozzled alcoholic straddles the next one. He looks like he’s making love to it.
A girl sporting a T-shirt with the slogan Killer Tits (not in Cyrillic) scoffs candy floss with her boyfriend; teenage schoolgirls watch the musicians raptly, clinging together and grooming each other’s long tresses.
And then there’s what can only be described as the best street musicians in the world providing defiance/joy/inspiration.
Mamma mia, here we go… DakhaBrakha, Madrid
First gig in Madrid and they went down a storm. Of course.
The capital city’s smart set turned out in numbers for this fund-raising tour by Ukraine’s most popular musical export.
It was something of a surprise that people got there at all.
Knees-ups in Nikolskaya
Central Moscow was a revelation during the World Cup as fans mingled and danced their way through the night in Nikolskaya, a long shopping street that runs off Red Square.
Behaviour that wouldn’t be tolerated by authorities by local people was ignored. And thousands of Muscovites came to watch and take part.
Penetration, The Garage, London
The thrill of the new has re-energised this most peculiarly talented relic of the punk era.
Only Ones, Rescue Rooms, Nottingham (2007)
There was one band in the world I wished would re-form – The Only Ones.
Peter Perrett, The Garage, London
In the 70s we had the Partridge Family, now we’ve got the Perrett Family. But that’s where the comparison ends.
The Partridges spawned cheesy heart-throb David Cassidy – later to have a life as dysfunctional as Peter Perrett’s seems to have been.
DakhaBrakha, Corn Exchange, Brighton
KYIV: November 2007.
“You’ll like this,” said Anya. “Shakespeare, no words. Macbeth.”
Awopbopaloobop-awopbamboom – Tilbury 0 Needham Market 1
Tough Thames-side town Tilbury is full of treats.
Majestic dockland windmills and cranes, two forts and . . . a mural of Frank Sinatra?
Continue reading Awopbopaloobop-awopbamboom – Tilbury 0 Needham Market 1
Gang of Four, Oslo, London
“78 we were there,” shouts someone. These gigs, full of us 50somethings reliving their youth.
The Gang of Four are now a gang of one, plus fill-ins.
The Pop Group – Rough Trade, London
A facial- fuzz-free gig in Shoreditch – that might be a 21st century first.
The beardless fans gathered after a long wait to see a legendary cult band. 35 years it’s been.
The Pop Group popped up from the West Country on their tractor (us Cardiffians know all people from Bristol drive tractors) for a free in-store run-through at the mecca of indie music.
Miles from Nowhere 