Jimmy Buffett Live in London

Jimmy Buffett’s First Ever UK gig – July 5 2009 Shepherd’s Bush Empire.

40 years in the business, tons of albums under his belt, and a relatively small but highly loyal fan base across Europe. Yet, strangely perhaps, this was the Mississippi/Florida singer songwriter’s first ever UK gig (barring a performance in an all star charity bash a few years back). The legions of self professed “parrot heads” (the name by which his devotees are known) were not disappointed. Shepherd’s Bush Empire – long the redoubt of tribal gatherings – saw a profusion of white middle aged couples in Caribbean fancy dress gathering early for a chance to grab the best view for this unprecedented show.

Mr Buffett’s musical and cultural shtick is a Carribean/Key West Florida gumbo of mid tempo rock with a rootsy undertow, as, I guess, befits a man who started life as a wannabe country singer. Seeing him centre stage dressed in, appropriately enough for his image and for this almost tropical UK heatwave, Bermuda shorts made me think that this was possibly the least cool gig I have ever been to in my life. Much of the gig involved an eight-piece band, and one female backing singer, knocking out foot-tapping numbers bolstered by Jimmy’s often comical lyrical observations, as reflected in such titles as "Cheeseburger in Paradise". Other times there were embarrassing exercises in frat party cool ("Summer School", for example). Every number however elicited ecstatic responses from the Buffett cognoscenti. His performances though were all too often easy on the ear and emotionally unchallenging. In contrast, “Son of a Son of a Sailor”, "One Particular Harbor", and the (sadly only) three acoustic numbers were, for my money, the stand out numbers of this gig. The acoustic songs were a funny (and possibly the only recorded) satirical take on the world financial meltdown, Plenty to Drink About; and two of his most renowned (if that is the right word) tracks: "A Pirate Looks at 40" (revered by Bob Dylan, he wryly noted) and “He Went to Paris”, which closed the show. On these latter two numbers, the quality of Mr Buffett’s vocals and the emotional power that he is capable of summoning up, despite all the schlock of his Carribean island thang, came through strongly. Margarettaville, a signature Buffett tune that perfectly embodies his sailing, sozzled, and soaking up the rays persona, was enjoyable. Ending with “He Went to Paris”, however, meant that the gig closed on a qualitative high note, right after a thoroughly unnecessary sop to the Brits had seen him and his oversized band tackle Yellow Submarine. Buffett seemed bowled over by the response of the audience and promised to come back next summer for his second ever proper British gig. I hope he does, and in the process he should draw deeper on the emotional depths that he plainly has.

UAE parallels with Iran?

We have only been back a few days and our time in the UAE already seems like a long time ago. The UAE, a neighbouring country of Iran that allows the Iranians a business and finance enclave in Dubai, is relatively unaffected by the political upheaval in the Islamic Republic, and stands to gain economically. Obviously the UAE's rulers are wary of Islamically-sanctioned authority being challenged in the streets, even if it is largely in the name of regime figure who has been electorally dispossessed. The nearest parallel to what is happening in Iran in the GCC states are the disputes over succession. These still ocassionally pop up among the families of some of the northern emirates of the UAE, and via the family fights vitiated through parliamentary shenanigans in Kuwait as well as the more coded family disputes over policy that get a semi-public airing in Saudi Arabia.

Otherwise Gulf politics are about traditional consultation methods and individual sheikh's majlises, processes that are sometimes bolstered by narrow electorates for powerless putative parliaments. Kuwait is a relative exception to this rule. However its legislative politics are more parliamentary theatre than substance, as could be said of the UK until last week. The Al-Sabah have long been a lesson for other GCC leaders in why they should not go down the part-constitutional politial route. Now that Iran has shown that electoral politics is as dangerous as brash modernisation was 30 years earlier for the Shah, this lesson is only compounded. Dubai's version of brash modenisation is unlikely to herald what happened in late 70s Iran of course. The (indigenous) cultural conservatism and the ruling family's partnership with the local ulema who have become more controlled in the last 10 years will see to that. Dubai's clerical class, as in other UAE emirates and in other GCC states, are rigorously held in check in what is a small city state. Radical Islamic opinion -once useful throughout the Gulf in countering the attacks of Arab secularists - has been easily controlled by ministry purges in the last few years, while talk of national identity and more active morality policing has helped offset more recent disquiet.

Old New Homeland

Strange times indeed. Am in a period of transition between departing the UAE and arriving in our old new homeland, the UK. Departure has been something I am taking in my stride, mindlessly preparing for the off by filling my time packing and finishing up admin tasks in Sharjah before spending a few days with friends in Dubai and then on to the plane with X, my long-time friend and wife. I expect that the journey home will see some deeper reflection on what it has all meant but maybe not, as tiredness and a hangover are more likely to compound the generally dissolute state of mind that I have found myself in over a number of months. An inability (or unwillingness) to think and a difficulty in remembering has been something that has characterised my state of mind for several years now, beyond the specific and relatively narrow requirements of work.

What is to be done? I am happy to have no specific plans beyond deep immersion in my music collection and time spent with my wife, in addition to reacquainting myself with my mother whose health had largely dictated future calculations over the last year. The difficulty will be in gauging what happens in say a year from now; what do we do beyond raising mortgage money and paying the bills? Do we want to be here for say the next 5 years, dealing with family and working on the mideast (in my case) from the vantage point of London? I had thought that once work pressures eased (as they plainly now have) I would want for nothing more than escape from the damned region and the chance to make the most of the 15 years left for fun before old age kicks in. I am not interested in competing with the big boys in regional meltdown watch, and I have never had the patience to do what real regional experts do (learn the key local languages properly and obsess, obsess, obsess). In fact I have always found the obsession of my western peers who work on the region to be rather tiresome, wondering what is missing from their lives that the fate of the Palestinians, Iraqis or even the Bahraini Shia is something that can make them fulminate with impotent rage against local power brokers, western governments, religious intolerance (delete as appropriate).

I had thought that I could redirect my energies on something that would take me (mentally at least) far away from the accursed middle east and apply my general political nouse to wider problems. We shall see – I can’t earn money by presenting the long historical view of the strange death of the Labour Party, while condescending to step into the parochial ring to fight, fight and fight again to save the party I love is plainly a waste of my inordinate political talents. My teaching of international relations at Sharjah hasn’t really made me an incisive observer of world political trends, while my creative writing abilities (as you can no doubt tell) haven’t really improved much for 20 years. My wife however thinks that a sometime sparkling and satirical wit should be deployed in scripting socially observant plays or comic observations – I will certainly have time to pursue this possibility, but don’t hold your breath. Old dogs and new tricks come to mind. Watch this space as Deira Diary relocates from the middle east to the east end and my takes on the UK, the mid-east, old (and new) music, and, as far as possible, the world become subjects for some sometimes ill-considered reflection

Back to the Mother (F) country

We are leaving Sharjah on the 14th June, so unless I run into any of you in the office, this may well be goodbye.

I am highly appreciative of the willingness of the university to give me the opportunity of teaching for the first time in what is now an even more varied career. I have no idea what will happen back in the Old Country; that will be in the hands of God, my mother, and the luck of the Irish (note the order, as was said of Saddam’s comments concerning what he thought were life’s three afflictions). I am not, by the way, and to the best of my knowledge, Irish.

It has been an up and down experience for both of us out here in the UAE, one that we will, for sure, remember for some years to come. It is also possible that we will be back, although probably not in a long term employment capacity. I shifted my Mid-East focus to the Persian Gulf over 10 years ago, and it’s probably too late to shake off this particular affliction. So that suggests that a return visit to the UAE is more than possible. Whether I will then be serving in a teaching capacity back in the UK or preparing my bid for the Labour leadership in 2014, I cannot predict. Equally likely, I will be a “researcher”, with all the ambiguity and mukhabarat connotation that that implies. My wife, I trust, will return, full force, to painting, and, with the grace of God, will make a mint and I will get to realize a long held ambition: to drive a van from town to town, continent to continent, from art exhibition to art exhibition.

If our current plan works out, we will be on the road from NYC to the west coast sometime between mid-September and mid-November 2009.

This blog will shortly redeploy to the wild east of London. Dire Diary anyone?

Checking out...for good

Another rerun of the Eagles' tune on VH1 last night reminds me now of where I came in. That being the Hotel California where I was holed up for three months in 2007 courtesy of my former employers, a conflict resolution charity. In this two star benign regime anything was available for Dirhams, albeit that Heiniken was my only occasional indulgence. Now I am really checking out of the UAE, and from this university compound in Sharjah where we redeployed nine months back. It has been another benign regime, hard to escape its collective clutches, its welfare provision, and its relative ease and convenience. Well, we are now finalising the prison break, although like Michael of the TV series we may have to continue the struggle on the outside, in part one of our own making. Blighty beckons, main reason being to provide psychological support to my mother , but other factors are at work too. Teaching has been especially hard and almost gruelling when combined with writing research papers on the regional situation. These though will provide fame and glory in the major publishing platforms that only Abu Dhabi and a UK university can provide. Once back in the child's bedroom of musical delights and hi-fi, I will probably miss the structure, the relative respect, and the apparent purpose behind what I have been doing in Sharjah. Close, confessional, friendships there have not been, but interesting folks a plenty have been discovered among the faculty. Friendships made here and in Dubai and Abu Dhabi will hopefully be sustained when we all move on to pastures new. Where this goes next, and what will have been achieved is hard to gauge. I know that some students appreciated my insights, others made me feel intellectually and personally inadequate to the task. Overall, university teaching diminishes your analytical depth as those close to the real politics are more out of reach and your own analysis is necessarily simpler. We fly soon, hoping that the advantages of northern European climate and things to access without wheels will make us both closer and life in general more fulfilling.

Jeff Buckley debate

Wasn't the whole "Make Jeff Buckley No 1" campaign back in Blighty getting a little over-exercised? In a decidedly maudlin fashion the pro-Jeff forces mobilized on behalf of a dead artist as opposed to a (thus far largely) undiscovered one. The Sun newspaper - with Absolute Radio’s backing – was, for its own obscure reasons, behind the effort to disinter this one-time photogenic dead singer for belated mass consumption. Absolute Radio’s DJ, Christian, stated on the station's website that Jeff Buckley's version was that of someone whose voice sounded like “he has lived”. Well, compared to the twat on X Factor, that’s true. However Buckley was only in his late 20s when he recorded it. Leonard Cohen, who wrote and performed the original, had lived a lot more in all senses when he released it in the second half of the 80s. John Cale’s cover was haunting, with a voice that was decidedly “lived in” too. Imagine either of these (still alive) singers as a Christmas number 1 in the UK. Now that would have been interesting.

Politics GCC-style

Have just returned from trip to Bahrain and Qatar. In the latter I glimpsed the new Islamic Museum standing magnificent alongside the Doha creek. Business district on one side and tasteful low level buldings on the other. Very impressive from a passing taxi, though couldn't decide if it looked like random breeze blocks, or a modernist thing of beauty as befits its concept. Never got the chance to check out the opening for the plebs, due to meetings, meetings meetings. However found my way to Education City, which somewhat puts Dubai's knowledge village and its companion free zone in the shade. For one thing the partner educational institutions in Qatar appear to be of a higher order, seeing this as a frontline commitment not just a business adjunct, and are regulated with quotas for nationals. How they secure them with a similar demographic in Qatar to Dubai, my lord and saviour alone knows.

Back in Bahrain one year on I feel relieved. Breathe the air of overt politics even if the parliament is akin to the theatre that causes apparent political crises in the mother of all Gulf parliaments, Kuwait. Haven't been back to that former people's republic for more than 2 years.......

Bahrain takes me to the seemier side of town, as befits Deira Diary...the Adhari is, despite its oifficial claims, a two star with a fine selection of music venues (see Hotel California, Deira) and a bar that begs to be explored. Dark space, friendly women, and blasting dinosaur rock. Breakfast even tastes like pork products. Served up in another dark and dingy bar, I take a black plastic table top at 730 am and check out the other clientele: A drunk Saudi who appeared not to have graced his bed last night and who was nursing a fresh beer. He talked to met in Arabic about my breakfast. I wished him a happy Eid before promptly indicating that my conversational skills in French are worse than those in Arabic so he should get back to his beer.

Bahrain is gearing up for its national day, having reached the giddy heights of independence a few days after the UAE. Flags were on display but it looked like being a calmer affair than back home. I even saw an Emirati flag atop a 4x4 in Manama. Old Najdi family alliances of course. Bahrain will not see the same frenzy that is these days taking over the UAE streets on December 2. For one thing, despite its sectarian problems, Bahrain's majority national population are all full nationals with an equal right to vote and stand for an assembly that, although toothless, can embarrass senior people and question alleged corruption and planning absurdities. How much better it is in the UAE where they restrict full nationality to only a proportion of the "nationals" and the government votes in the electors? Reminds me of Bertold Brecht's quip about the ruling East German Workers' Party (SED) despairing of the proletariat. Perhaps you could vote for a new one, he suggested.

Qatar for its part has an arguable 2/3 of its passport holders without full nationality, keeping out the so-called Persians and errant tribes. It though now has two national days, one, newly conceived, is imminent in memory of Jassim, the "enabling" ruler who aligned with Britain having fought off the Turks. What a sensible chap.

Came back to Sharj to find that I had missed National Day and the rain, darn.