The launch of The Bedford Clanger, June 5th, 2011
They said this weekend would be hotter in England than Africa. A good day for a picnic. The sky was overcast.
Beneath the site of an ancient castle, the stalls were set out. The Bedford Clanger. What is this? Christ, Jesus, don’t make me eat one of those things. The last time I had to gargle with tequila to get rid of the taste. It’s local food. Local for a reason.
No, not a pasty, they tell me, it’s a newspaper. Should taste better than meat with jam.
News for the alternative and artistic scene in Bedford. Hell, Bedford’s a small place. Everyone knows everyone. What are they doing this for? My investigations are drawing too much attention. Got to duck out of here before I’m recognised. It’s hard to remain inconspicuous with a leg in plaster. I’ll go back later when things have calmed down.
The river Ouse flows gently by. Reminds me of the time I swam naked on my birthday. Never seen a girl take her shirt off so quickly. Happy days. Don’t try it yourself. Sidestepping the goose filth, I come to the suspension bridge. Ice cream van waits. Time for a ‘99. That should be long enough. There’s too many of these goddamned geese. Don’t eat the swans when there’s geese around. What kind of animals are you? Who’d even want to eat a swan?
Keep calm. Got to be composed at the picnic. There are important people there. I recognise a lot of these faces. The usual suspects. The burlesque lot. The musicians, the artists, the writers. This is cliché. GET THE HELL OUT OF THIS BACKWATER! IT’S STAGNANT! CAN’T YOU SEE IT’S CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF YOU? Fools, lunatics, madmen.
“Everyone needs a place to live.” “Most towns aren’t as exciting as Bedford.” You expect me to believe that? Just swallow it up? “Bedford has a cultural scene.” Where is that, then? On the High Street? Chavs and townies drinking lager and fighting. Ain’t very cultural-sounding to me. Screw this country, it’s the same anywhere you go.
So there’s live music at Esquires, the Ent Shed, Harpur’s, the Flowerpot, the Bedford Arms and the Bear. Burlesque at the Corn Exchange. It’s not enough. What about theatre? What’s happening to the Civic? Who votes for these pig-dogs? How many Battle of the Bands competitions are there now? Is that the way to get good live music in your venue? If I want to watch The X Factor then I’ll stay at home, thank you very much. If I could explain to these people, I’d tell them to buck their ideas up and get organised. Form a network across disciplines. Writers talk to musicians. Painters talk to theatre directors. Film-makers mutter to themselves, rocking gently back and forth. Bring these people together and put on innovative multimedia events. Write new plays for Bedford. Establish a forum where ideas can be aired and new projects organised. Like a new cultural newspaper. Like The Bedford Clanger…
