I'm always happier to see the back of it.

September.  September and March.  I can't wait to see them come lurching to an end.  They both crawl interminably to a conclusion that delivers promise of more to come, reminding us bitterly how much they have kept us back.

March always dangles Spring in front of us, before ending our days with a spiteful hint of cold as if to say "No, no, no. Not yet. Only when I say so."  The lengthy depths of March span the time like a chasm, striding two banks of the seasonal tide.  Daffodils dare to show their face, scared of March's damning touch, only parading into greatness when April finally skips into view.  Lambs can barely ... no, wait, now I've just gone too far. A man like me does but one thing with lambs, and it involves garlic, rosemary and mint sauce.  I will conclude by saying March annoys me.  I'm just that kind of guy.  

September always crawls for me too.  I long for the school to get into some sort of pattern, some type of routine to kick start a new school year.  I am desperate for the established patterns of the year to become embedded and for our successes to start coming in like coins at the bottom of a one arm bandit.  (Yes, I was doing similes with a class recently.)

I've not felt that way this year, except for one thing.  More of this later.

I've not felt this way because of one important thing: the end of August.  When I first dared to venture into the school in the summer holidays after my various travels, I was anxious as to what I might find.  Schools in the midst of August can resemble building sites, war zones, meteor craters (too far? Again?) despondent of life form without more than six legs and a breeding ground for e coli.

Not this school.  Not this summer.

I walked in on that final Wednesday and was amazed.  I walked around and saw the same thing over and over again: colour.  I think I've already been ludicrously, almost embarrassingly prosaic during this blog, so I am not about to rummage through my bag of rainbow metaphors - you get the picture.  The entire school was awash with the results of teachers' and colleagues' efforts to preserve our school's status as a place of learning.  (I just mistyped and it came up palace of learning...or did I mistype?).

Once it was then filled with the most important thing in the world, it truly became the place we all know and love.  The uniform is mesmeric (a sentence never used before I believe - ever) and the work quite brilliant.  I took 72 books home last night to look at the quality, marking, range, you know the stuff, and I was humbled and very proud at how much our children and our school can produce.  And I haven't even started on our amazing new reception children.

So, no September blues for me this year.  In fact, I'll be sorry to see it go.  What we must do instead is ensure it has served as our foundation for what should be more success around the corner.

My only September blues this year have arisen from the fact that they offer us Strictly Come Dancing, then take it away for three weeks! Demagogues and dictators throughout the annals of history have as yet to devise a torture so cruel.  Once it's back on, I shall breathe easily again.

Whilst I slip into something a little more sequined, that is all.

Wot I dun on mi zummer olidays

I saw a picture on twitter the other week. It was an old black and white photo of a grandfather and grandson, Werthers-original-stylee. The caption read, "so grandad, tell me what it was like when you had to buy an entire album, even though you only wanted one song".  At first I just laughed. Then I got to thinking...

I'm the world's worst for reaping single songs from albums. Many of my best compilations have been so created. However, even before this, I have been hankering for the complete, crafted, lovingly arranged thing which is an album. Two things happened in quick succession to put me in this frame of mind. First, I downloaded Dark Side of the Moon for £3, and really enjoyed it, without actually liking it. (Sound familiar, album lovers?). Second, I read Paul Brannigan's quite brilliant biography of Dave Grohl: This is a Call. It dissects some famous, infamous and classic albums in forensic-with-a-kiss detail.

I had to do something. A stand needed to be made. As all my previous blogs illustrate, if there's a totally pointless and futile stand to be stood, a clueless or senseless point to be made, I'm just the guy to do it.  Therefore, I set about filling my iPhone with a whole range of albums old and new to listen to in their entirety, in a one man tribute to the art form. A foreign holiday is just the time to play a little game I'd just invented called "album of the day".

The first upshot was a pleasant nostalgia for turning some of these over after track 5. ( younger readers, ask your grandad). The second was relearning the discipline it takes to sit still ( with your feet tapping and left hand playing the occasional snare) for the best part of an hour, but, trust me, it soon returned, like the riding of a lyrical bike.

New Order Republic

(Mini history lesson kids) I first bought this album on cassette at Woolworths on Hawthorn Rd, next to the shop me mom worked in, the source of about 90% of all my preteen music purchases. (Kids, how many of the words above require explanation?)

Always a New Order fan, too young to do anything but enjoy the stories of Joy Division, this is the first NO album I owned that I hadn't nicked from Uncle Gary (who will feature repeatedly throughout this blog). I remembered I'd got a copy of this album through my discovery of another: Waiting for the Sirens Call, a much later album, was poking its neck out of the rack that little bit further, obscuring a cd purchase of a long forgotten fave.

First afternoon on the sunbed, after an altogether too large a lunch, and more keo beer than should be consumed in one short sitting, I plugged in my new pair of skull candies (grandfathers, ask your grandsons) and listened in. I was almost immediately transported back to being a 14 year old, wishing I could play the bass like Peter hook, and two or three tracks leaped out at me across decades.

The album as an art form is a fine thing, but it's not infallible. I hated to admit it to myself, even more than I do publicly, that - a few tracks aside - I was a little disappointed. It was cool, it was innovative, it was melodic, but I was no longer a 14 year old with a cassette player, and I needed more. (Sadly, I still feel that, the hits aside, new order's best offering lies way down the playlist / on the b-side of waiting for the sirens call; check out a song called "guilt is a useless emotion" and you'll see what I mean. It captures the history of the band backwards, from hook jogging off to form Monaco, back to Curtis wanting to create something unique.)

I loved remembering it, but won't be rushing back to it as a whole piece anytime soon. But I still love hooky's bass, and will always have a fondness for some of Bernie Sumner's lyrics. And I love the fact I owned that album from the time it was released, in two formats.

Smashing Pumpkins  Adore

My relationship with the pumpkins is as weird and tempestuous as Billy Corgan’s relationship with various bassists. It began with a very young love of punk (thank you once again Uncle Gary) and continues in steady lineage through some of the stuff I play for Ru. It takes in the Police, Garbage, the Strokes, Muse, JJ72 and anything new offered by Q magazine. The Pumpkins arrived via the MTV era, and I loved the fact that their music and plain old fashioned disfunctionality sat side by side. Billy Corgan once openly announced "rock and roll is dead!". His manager, a certain Sharon Osborne, retorted "well, no-one told me".

This album has its low points, but when they get the electro stuff right in the guitar mix, I love it. Part rock opera, part rock soap opera, with a hint of self-indulgence, Adore will always work, even if only for goth baldy weirdos like me... and Billy Corgan.

Garbage Version 2.0

I'd forgotten all about this album until Ru and the kids in the street were going around singing some modern song about when I grow up, I wanna be famous... I of course changed it to "when I grow up ill be stable by garbage. I'd completely forgotten about this album which was an ever present on our CD player at one point.

So, one album of the day was given over entirely to its rediscovery. Which I have to say, I really rather enjoyed. This was no nostalgia trip either; this is a cracking album, extremely well organised and crafted, with some stand-out musicality. Shirley Manson could read me the phone book, and I think I'd still be worried about me mum finding out.

Really good. Enough said.

Semisonic Feeling Strangely Fine & All About Chemistry

Again, old favourites revisited. Again, they stand the test of time, the lyrics become somewhat more poignant as I get older. I saw them once at the Colston hall, and they proved then what they substantiate in these two albums - these three are fine musicians and good songwriters. 

Although I love my rock and my heavy sounds, these three are at their absolute best when they do subtle, understated, sensitive – the song Act Naturally is all about a couple going to a party together after having had a row, and how they tacitly and quietly agree to keep it all hidden until later.  Know the feeling?  Quite beautiful..

Mgmt Oracular Spectacular & Congratulations.  Klaxons; Myths of the near future

A real treat: kids in kids club, no one making demands on me, glorious sunshine, a new pair of skull candies. Ask yourself: why only do one album when you can do three?

MGMT were introduced to me shortly after I arrived at Badocks, and their first album has always been a gem. The millions of covers of Kids on youtube (I recommend the Ooks of Hazard) will doubtless make it an anthem of sorts.

Then came the second album, the expansion of the band and of its sound, and the challenge on the boundaries of the truly listenable.

I will always come down on the side of Oracular Spectacular as, to me, it is a more complete piece, more unified, with little in the way of filler. Although Congratulations has its high notes, it often strikes me as a bit disparate.

So, having seen those two off, and still without anyone invading my space, I happily discovered the klaxons, and it just seemed to fit the mood and tempo of the day.

I remember these boys claiming they'd made the best album for years. My reply would be simple: no you didn't. A few good tracks, and some beautifully bizarre lyrics (“Club 18:30 for Julius Caesar / Lady Diana and Mother Teresa…”), but not even the best album of the afternoon, let alone a few years. Sorry boys.

Empire of the Sun Ice on the dune

Everyone always has the same worry: how will they manage that difficult second album.    When it came to Empire of the Sun, whose first album danced its way into my heart in 2009, I was never worried.  Their first album, with all its remixes and redesigns, was in fact their first, second and third album rolled into one, and they both went off and pursued various projects in between that first album and this new offering.  The greater concern for me was that, due to the stranglehold a certain company appears to have over the market, I has to wait longer than music lovers in the US and Australia to get my greasy mits on it. 

When I finally managed to get my copy, after much pushing back of the official date (don’t remember Woolworth’s ever doing that*) I instantly fell in love with it.  I’ve been trying hard to find a comparison, but can’t really.  It’s very simply defined: this second album is more grown up, more rounded, more complete.  This sounds like professional musicians in a studio; the first one now sounds like some very talented teenagers mucking about in the rich one’s bedroom – not that I don’t still enjoy the first one.

I really like this, and it was not enhanced by a sunbed listening, as everywhere I’ve listened to it I’ve really enjoyed it and discovered something fresh.  The lead track – Alive – is, in my humble opinion the stand out hit of the summer, and the hypnotic “I’ll be around” is further testament to the group’s ability to do romance in a denoument-of-a-1980s-film style.  Simply put, I love it.   

*I vividly recall rushing to Woolworth’s one Monday evening after school, eager to buy the latest Pet Shop Boys’ single (I think it was Domino Dancing).  This was on 7” vinyl – look it up kids.  I remember even now as Emma – a bloke, mate of Uncle Gary’s, never found out why they called him Emma, but I know that people still do to this day – ripped open the only-just-delivered new releases box with wild abandon so I could get my copy before anyone else in Kingstanding.  How does that sounds itunes?

Mind you, I can also vividly recall Emma doing a few other things with wild abandon, such as jumping on his Dad’s new car, and jumping from the roof of the second tier of the Holte End.  Did a lot of jumping, did Emma.

Foo Fighters  Skin and bone

Never got on with the Foo Fighters me.  Coming in around the same time as the pumpkins on MTV, I just never enjoyed it and never got involved, although I have always admired Dave Grohl’s abilities.  So, when I got the biography (see above) and it had waited a sufficiently long time on my to-read pile, I ploughed in.  I thought it was a brilliant book, a great testament to Grohl himself but also essential reading for that era in musical history. 

So, whilst reading all about its creation, I went back and listened to There is Nothing Left to Lose, their second album, which I had been given on its release.  I had listened to it before, but was left a little cold.  Upon a relisten, with some of the stories at my disposal, I enjoyed it a lot more, again without actually liking it, although I think I will give it a few more goes. 

The book talks the reader through the creation of every album, and the stories behind many key songs.  The album I was most interested in was Skin and Bones, an acoustic set recorded live, about which author Paul Brannigan speaks passionately.  Therefore, a quick download later, and it was stored ready for a day’s listen.  Which I will openly confess I thoroughly, thoroughly enjoyed. 

Of course, there’s the hits and a few fan anthems, but you don’t need to know the Foo’s back catalogue to enjoy and appreciate this.  It was the subject a few studious listens during the hols, and I am extremely grateful for being pointed in its direction.  As I plan a relaunch of my vinyl collection this winter, I am looking for this to be one of the first additions to my new, second vinyl collection. 

Nirvana Nevermind

This is my “I’ve never watched Star Wars” moment.  Apart from Bjork, when she was still a member of the Sugarcubes, grunge left me cold.  Stone cold. I tried everything, but it didn’t work.  At the time I was listening to New Order, the Prodigy and club and house music bordering on the verge of Pop (Uncle Gary never approved), and discovering Prefab Sprout, I could not understand why many of my secondary school class mates started to dress so scruffily, grow their hair, and listen to Nirvana.  Furthermore, on the day Kurt Cobain’s death was announced, the open weeping of teenagers left me bemused.  After all, we had only recently lost Freddie Mercury and Kenny Everett, both of whom I thought were of greater loss.

Therefore, it was with much trepidation and angst that I attempted to listen to Nevermind.  I had enjoyed reading about it in the Dave Grohl book, but the narrative only served to remind me that I’d never listened to it, never even paid it a thought, and I thought that I should really try. 

So, one evening, with a glass of wine in hand, and, I shall confess, a little nervousness within (album lovers and music fans will know what I mean – I was genuinely concerned, desperate to like it) and some quiet space, I started to listen.

I made it to track 7.

I just did not like it.  At all.  Although I can appreciate the quality of the bass playing, and the insanity of some of the drumming, the rest just sounds dull to me.  One song repeated the same dull riff monotonously, and mentioned crackers.

I still can’t see why those teenagers dressed as they did, and why they cried so much.  But then, there’s probably another music blog somewhere equally uncomprehending of how people spiked their hair, sprayed it green, dressed sharply in loud and bright colours, and danced frenetically for hours on end.  And discovered Prefab Sprout.

So how did I resolve it?  How did I leave it, having failed such a big challenge.  I poured another wine, and  listened to Ice on the Dune by Empire of the Sun, for the umpteenth time. 

It was a wonderful holiday, thank you for asking, for lots of different reasons.  However, those snatched hours on a sunbed or a terrace rediscovering and reclaiming the format that is the album will keep me going throughout the dark nights of the winter. 

Of course, there are two or three albums I never leave alone.  Bon Iver’s For Emma, Forever Ago is especially personal.  The sheer haunting heartache of I trawl the Megahertz by Paddy McAloon will always stop me in my tracks, as will most of the Prefab Sprout oeuvre.  For me, Klaxon-esque blagging aside, the best album in years has been Metronomy’s The English Riviera.

 

Even though it will continue to grow, develop, evolve for the next generation, improve and, as the technology evolves, it will conitnue to come out in new formats, the album is a stylistic convention we should cherish.  Long may it last, even if it is in the headphones and heart of an old skinhead on his sunbed.  

Numbers can't tell the whole story ...

365 days.  195 school days (including inset).  1290 hours (allegedly, but I know some staff who reach that before Easter).  208 children, rising to 266 at its peak.  11 classes.  1 OfSTED inspection (and what an inspection).  1 impromptu but devastatingly good rendition of "Starman".  Simple, when you think about it.  But there is so much more than this, and so much more to consider.

It is a little heavy-handed to break down a school year to a list of numbers, and some numbers don't make sense to anyone but those few in the know.  However, it is generally numbers that stand the test of time.  55BC, 1066 and all that, Aston Villa 1 Bayern Munich 0 etc. Surely 4.24 pm on Monday 22nd July will come to own some significance.

Here, I hope it serves a few simple but well-intentioned purposes:

1: To celebrate a twelve month of success.

2: To celebrate the amazing achievements of our ever-growing number of children, and

3:  To celebrate the all-too-often forgotten works of the staff and governors.

Here goes (and trust me, even if you don't know all of them, you'll know when I'm trying to praise and when I'm seeking to do something... else.)

91 - The percentage of year 6 children at or above the national expected level for maths
3 - The number of years in a row we have managed to beat the national average
18 - the overall percentage improvement for year 6 writing in this year's SATs results
5 - The number of consecutive years our APS has exceeded the national average
4 - The number of consecutive years above the floor target (not achieved in the 8 years leading up to 2010)
90 - The percentage of homegrown children achieving the nationally expected level in year 2 reading
3 - The number of children who scored 40 out of 40 in the Year 1 Phonics test

2 - Meaning "Good", the grade OfSTED awarded the school for Achievement

32 - The number of drop in observations I conducted during terms 5 and 6
0 - The number of inadequate lessons I saw in that time
Countless - The number of hours teachers and support staff spent in improving teaching throughout terms 2, 3, 4 and 5 during the teaching toolkit project

2 - Meaning "Good", the grade OfSTED awarded the school for Quality of Teaching and Learning.

10 - the number of children who have managed 100% attendance for the year
2 - the improvement on the same number last year
11 - the number of the children who were on 99.4%+ (only missed 1 day or less)
4 - The reduction in the number of children excluded
6 - The number of letters the governors had to send out for the wrong reasons

2 - Meaning "Good", the grade OfSTED awarded the school for Behaviour and Safety.

10 - The number of staff who have presented to the LA at the core visits this year.
2, 2, 2 - The scores at the 3 core visits this year (As with OfSTED, 2 equates to "Good")

2 - Meaning "Good", the grade OfSTED awarded the school for leadership and management

And, going forward, aspire - achieve - enjoy still rules

83 - Percentage of children at ARE for reading and maths by the end of next year
27.5 - APS for next year's year 6
1/3 - The reduction in childhood obesity
0 - The number of fixed term exclusions
1000 - The number of followers we want on twitter
0 - the number of issues we will face that started on facebook.
7 - The number of David Bowie songs we will learn in term 1.

I cannot offer a thank you great enough for everything that has been achieved this year.  To all the staff, please choose the combination of wellwishes from the list below; you may have one or all, or a selection, they are all offered with my most sincere thanks:

Have a wonderful holiday

Bon voyage colleagues, and good luck in your new adventures

Thank you for your herculean efforts this year

Thank you for being part of this very special team

From my desk, from my corridor, and from the bottom of my heart, thank you all.

Have a wonderful summer.

Until we once again combine to push back the boundaries of pedagogy ever further, that is all....

Fini - Day 5 (Will he do it? Reprise)

Traffic jams come in many sizes.  Baring in mind the scale of everything we've done this week - i.e. monster - it comes as no surprise that we were stuck in a monster of a jam.  However, this will not and does not mar the overall view of camp 2013; it is still being hailed as "totes amaze-balls" by one.

Many people asked me today about my big decision.  A girl of my size never says never, but I am going to polish the baton in the event of its likely passing on.  Whatever the weather, a 5th camp deserves marking, so I would like to thank all of my co-pilots down the years.

Roll of Honour:

Leakey
Burlton
Walmsley (2 tours)
Ford
Heyes
Lane
Sims / Brown (3 tours)
Correia (Mr)
Scaiff
Dark (Princess of -ness)
Correia (Miss) (2 tours)
Norman
Hathway

Furthermore, I would pay tribute to those who have been in the role of delivering our services.  Special mentions to

Naomi
Phil
Andy & Rosie (and all the Essential Adventure gang)
Mark Briggs
Stu
Hannah and Roy

Finally in this section, thank you to Exmouth itself.  You have always welcomed us, looked after us, cared for us, and been glad to see us leave (I wouldn't blame you).  The rain may visit elsewhere in the world; Exmouth, to me, will always mean sunshine.

So, allow me to leave the final words to what I love the most: music.

The following lines should be sung to the tune of "King of Rock'n'roll" by the immortal Prefab Sprout.

All our crazy preteen angst

Doesn't stop us off'ring thanks

To those stars who filled our tanks

Completely

As we peer out on each morn

An adventure has been born

Opportunities galore

To tease me




Zigs zags, wet shoes

Beach barbecue

Exmouth!!




Gore Lane

Exmouth camp

Home of our dreams




Dream helps us recall

The joy of water sport

The beach, the scene, the hall

Delicious

Five and six painted the town

Daring to leap and surf (and drown)

How will we ever live it down?

Marvellous




Archers, rifles

Take aim

Gold spot!




Gore Lane

Exmouth camp

Home of our dreams





Now the coach has been, and back

All our soiled clothes unpacked

I'll remind you of the fact:

Amazing

How we took a group of teams

And exceeded all their dreams

Whilst we captured all their beams

Breathtaking




Low ropes old floats 

"This is heaven sir!"

Zip wire




Gore Lane

Exmouth camp

Home of our dreams  (repeat to fade into the sunlight)



Thank you all.
Bless you all.
That is all?

Day four part two - every new beginning leads to some other beginning's end

Well, the last wetsuit has been soaked and packed away.  The body boards and skim boards have been returned to their shelves, the archery targets taken down and the rifle alley disbanded; we have all given our disco clothes (i.e., our last salvageable outfit, generally with odd socks) that one fantastic airing.  I tried to explain what a “rite of passage” is to the kids, then realised that I was wasting the time of one of theirs. 

How will we look back on camp 2013?  And how will Camp 2013 look back upon us?  After all, it is not just the campers of Badock’s Wood who make a camp.  First of all, it is most pleasing to report that the camp leaders, and the leaders of every activity we have undertaken, have commented on our children’s politeness, positive attitude and determination.  We had a very high success rate on all activities, with 96% hurling themselves off the platform onto the zip wire, easily the most terrifying thing we have asked them to do all week.  We’ve managed to find friends to play with on every trip to the beach, and secured numerous hi 5s from the cool kidz running the water sports activities. 

And how does it rank?  I’d say fairly high up there if I’m honest.  I cannot recall too many things which have made me close to heart attack or blood boiling point.  More importantly, that memory bank of magic has been replenished to bursting point, with another host of amazing scenes during today’s epic water sports session.  Other people in my position will appreciate it when I say that there have been 8 or 9 heartbreaking (in the right way) moments this week that remind me why I said I'd do it.

I have been ably aided and abetted in all this by my three irreplaceable co-pilots: Hathway, Correia (2nd tour) and Norman.  Thank you all – giving up a week of life often goes unappreciated; hope we managed to make it filled in another way. 

Trust me, there have been stars, and a thousand legends born.  We have too many to mention, and it would be unfair; furthermore, they are the kind of occasion where you have to be there in order to understand why it was so important.  What I will say is this: many children have grown in more than stature this week, and for that I would pay the price many times over.

But enough of my ramblings.  You’ve had to put up with my tosh all week.  Let’s leave the last word to those who, time and again, weave the magic that makes this thing so special.  At (full roast pork dinner with all trimmings) tea this evening (followed by jam roly poly and custard) we asked every child, what was your favourite part of the week and why. 

Here’s what they said.

Gary – aka Robin Hood; aka Spider Monkey: “Archery, because it was so much fun.”

Lamarah – aka Lamermaid: “Everything was really fun to do.”

Jamal – aka the J-meister: “Everything, because it was so much fun.”

Brooke – aka Brooke Swift: “The sea trampoline – the waves kept bashing me.”

Josh – aka Boarderboy; aka Mr Helpful: “Body boarding – I’m good at it now.”

Luke – aka the barracuda: “Everything, because it was amazing.”

Kiah – aka KiahNoFear: “Archery and rifles, because they were really fun.”

Nathan – aka “Take off those trousers and that united top!”: “Body boarding because I like jumping waves.”

Shelby – aka the Bad Hatter; aka Raftsbane – “Trampoline, because the waves kept crashing me, and Miss Norman got bashed.”

Kile – too many akas to mention, but our favourite is K-ayaker:  “Jumping off the jetty into the lake, because I was doing flips”.

Morgan – aka Princess Maria: “Zip wire because before it I was afraid.”

Bruce – aka Mister Fifty: “Zip wire – it was fun because I’d never done it before.”

Alex – aka Conger (as in eel): “Zip wire because it was fun going fast and shouting stupid stuff.”

Jessica – aka Princess Jessybell: “Everything – all very involving.”

Dayzee – aka DayzeeDoo: “Everything because it’s fun.”

Carissa – aka Rissyroo: “Building rafts because it was the first time I ever beat the other team… and stayed dry.”

Bradley – aka Flipmeister: “Skim boarding, loads of fun.”

Ellie – aka Princess: “All of it, because it was so much fun.”

Kessie – aka Deadeyed Wombat; aka The Legend; aka “Our immortal leader”: “Water sports, it gave me inspiration for future water experiences.”

Ebrima – aka Top Hat: “Everything, because it was so good.”

Kelsey – aka George (of the Jungle): “Zip wire, because I didn’t do it last year.”

Chandler – aka Spider Monkey II; aka Tandellar: “Body boarding, because it was good when  you jumped the waves.”

BaiOmar – aka The Baiomara: “Archery, skim boarding, rifle shooting, jumping off the jetty – everything.”

Megan – aka Hello Vera: “All of it because it was an experience I can never forget.”

Last word I think to our special little Laurel.

Lauren – aka Willisbane; aka Lollipop: “All of it, because I’d never done it before and I loved it!”

Enough said.  From Exmouth after another wonderful year, that is all.