Tricky

Countdown

It is now but hours to my skadaddleing off for my annual trip to sun-soaked Majorca. About time too. Of course, I have been many times before so it's a case of knowing precisely what I am going to, which is half the charm. I'm wondering if next year I might ring the changes completely, but I think I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meantime, the laundry is clean and ironed, the suitcase is out, and at some point I will put the two together. I've had to jump through a couple of hurdles before the flight on Sunday night, not least the last of my Summer BBQs last night, then the small matter of the gay wedding party to end all gay wedding parties this evening. Where I am delivering a speech, for heaven's sake. But I can almost feel the sunshine now.

Whenever I head down there I like to know that there are one or two interesting new diversions on the horizon and often it's good to fix that in advance via locals who will be offering hospitality, or friends from the UK who just happen to be passing through. I'm quietly excited because this year promises both. Quite what form the activities they will provide will take, remains to be seen of course. But unless I am very much mistaken there will be an episode aboard a boat. Maybe two if we play our cards right. I'm leaving that in the lap of the Gods; we shall see, etc. But it would be rather lovely. They are such fiendish and expensive occasions to organise on one's own. If someone else has fixed the whole thing in advance, or just happens to be cruising through the harbour, so much the better. I'm hedging my bets for now. If it happens, I will be photographing it, put it that way.

Music is prepared. Before I went away in June, I had one playlist, but here's another which will be blaring from behind the air-conditioned windows of my hire car...

Antigone More man than man (Bassmonkeys remix)
Cyndi Lauper Same ol' story (Ralphi Rosario vocal mix)
Adele Hometown glory (Axwell original mix)
Dirty South and Axwell Open your heart (Vocal mix)
Birthday girl Mandy Give it 2 me (Jody Den Broeder club mix)
K. & Saly & Patric Work 4 love (Bongoloverz remix)
Richard Grey Thriller (Pacha dub mix)
Kimblee, Solu Music etc Fade (Bimbo Jones Strings remix)
Kurtis Mantronik How did you know (99 strings)

That last one more out of sentiment than trend - it will sound amazing in the sunshine.

See you on location, bitches.

Cookin' with(out) gas

Man make fire.
Man invite a load of gays over.
Man serve fabulous menu.

Yes, it's my summer BBQ season. Never one to be shy of being host on a summer evening, I'm going for it once more with a sign out the front of the house - dozens and dozens served. This year I am so very zen about whether we manage to get outside or not, it just defies belief. I think the one-that-broke-the-mould - the drizzle BBQ of 2007 - proved this sort of party literally can be achieved rain or shine.

Party number one was two weeks ago. Usually I do these things in three consecutive weeks, but our diminutive Australian pop princess was on August 1st, so it's been a little elongated this year. My grand finale is thus on Friday. Anyway, the above snap was taken just before everyone pitched up at the first bash and the whole thing worked a dream. I raided Nigella Summer for my recipes which have more of an Eastern Mediterranean theme than I have tried before. The Greek salad in particular was notable. Using the almost-on-its-last-legs BBQ as a mini-pizza oven for the pizza-flatbreads went one further. It did mean quite a lot of work, but there is a joy in repetition:  doing it all over again was like falling off a log.

Bonus, on Friday, when I thought there was no alternative but to eat inside due to mizzle and vileness around teatime, it weirdly got all warm around nine. The gays decided, somewhat unexpectedly, that we were going for it - the full al fresco experience. I am always happy to roll with this sort of thing, so got them to carry the table outside and we cackled like witches into the night air. Marvellous.

Mundo homo

It is that time of year - summer coming to a head (at least in terms of the calendar - looking outside you'd think it was positively Autumnal) and the first weekend of August has come and gone. And that always means a little trip to Brighton. Ah, the sea air, the rolling hills... the distinct enduring smell of poppers. As one, London's gays seemingly evacuate and head for the coast: Victoria Station becomes a fiesta and bewildered train travelers stare slack-jawed as impromptu champagne and vodka Red Bull bars are set up on the 10.36. Well, that was my experience anyway. I did have a little fizz (rude not to, etc) but that Red Bull shit is just plain evil. I had some a few weeks ago before a night out clubbing and it feels like your body is mutating and cooking under the skin. Dreadful. But, back to the party. Last year had been sunshine. Heat. Gloriousness. This year - it was a good idea to pack a pac-a-mac.

It was grey, wet, miserable. And I had thought - when it rains on their parade, lesbians might pitch tent, but the gays would stay away. How wrong was I...

It was a low key look, I thought.

Busy busy, hmm? The sun did come out in the end, much to my amazement (proof below - you can see it shining around the boy with the lovebite extravaganza on his neck. Honestly, was this somewhat scruffy unshaven individual really providing another human with such pleasure that this was necessary? The mind boggles.

It does help, if life hasn't gone exactly to plan in every respect, to be among one's fellow gays en masse. The community vibe may be a little hard to pin down, but bumping into so many old friends and having a kick up of the heels is always reassuring. Also, some things fade, some shift and change, but Brighton Pride seems to be one of those things that only improves - even in the rain. I did manage to do one thing which I absolutely adore, which is, around 6.30, to vamoose down to the seafront with some fellow escapees and go and eat fish and chips overlooking the horizon away from the madness. Then, making an early dash for it, heading for the station and getting to bed, utterly finished, by eleven. Sounds square, but it's logical - you've danced, chatted, cruised (ideally) and literally done your dose of shirtless gayness - all by teatime. I call that time efficiency.

Solu Music featuring KimBlee Fade

Track repeat go on and on

Kylie has been on tour now for about three months and last night finished her run of seven London shows at the O2. Over the years, I have been to see the same artist perform many times on different occasions, but never seen the same show twice, until Friday. After organising my original tickets, I was offered a fifth row seat, dead centre, to see the X2008 show - so about as up close and personal as it's possible to be, again something of a new experience. Having been a little set back when I first saw the show, the contrast was vivid - this was rather like viewing an elephant through a magnifying glass. You certainly saw detail, but it reminded me of sitting at the front of a cinema - rather overwhelming. That's not to take away from the experience at all, since seeing a particularly favoured pop star up close is a treat like few others, but my nose was really pressed up against the glass.

Anyone who's interested will have seen the millions of photos of the show online, but here are a brief selection of the best, most in-focus ones I caught (with the old digital rather than my new SLR). For those living in parts where Kylie doesn't reach (poor devils), I am also fairly sure it's possible to create a patchwork quilt showreel of the whole thing beginning to end from different places and performances across Europe. On Friday night cameras were swooping in left and right, from the rear of the stage and on rails at the front, so the inevitable DVD is bound to be a stocking filler come the end of the year.

One of my big things with Kylie the value for money. £49 for every single seat in the venue, two and half hours of live show, some twenty-seven songs. I mean, this is by no means half-assed. And it was a joy to watch: we all agreed how totally relaxed she seemed. Whether that's a result of having performed this show so many times it is practically on oiled wheels, or a regained confidence, it's hard to say, but there was no doubting she had a lot of fun with it. There were plenty of moments for improvisation and 'share with the crowd' sections: "My tickets don't say 'dress to impress' - but you all know it's there, just in very tiny writing," "you sir, in the gold bomber jacket, very nice," "a spotlight please on the gentleman in the singlet, are you enjoying the show?" and so on and so forth.

Musically, it was not quite what I expected. From the advance hype it seemed as if this was going to be some sort of sleek, minimal electronic extravaganza. The old hits clipped clean and new material to the fore with even unreleased songs amid a too-cool-for-school setlist. The latter point certainly happened (a very risky business at a pop concert of this scale) but I considered it rather successful - a particular highlight being the epic ballad 'Flower'. But whether the original intent was lost, or the temptation to create an extravaganza of camp prevailed, she ended up with a real crowd-pleaser. Step back in time, Shocked and the finale of I should be so lucky (untainted, as it appeared in 1987) could never have been a part of some über-cool agenda. And the inclusion of Copacabana, complete with cocktail shakers and dancers acting out Lola, Tony and Rico sealed it - this was a big sing-along-with-your-hands-in-the-air Kylie show.

A number of people who have seen the show all agree - the new songs from X sounded utterly fantastic. I stand by the hyperbole-heavy review of that album I wrote last Autumn. It's a record I listen to again and again and never get sick of. Performed live, the tracks that are perhaps less obvious - Speakerphone and Nu-di-ty particularly - were unexpectedly brilliant. Having the spikier melodies played loud, complete with dancers, flashing lights and a warm, live vocal transformed them. And if live performance made them zing, the arena setting made the best songs - In my arms, Wow, The one and No more rain positively anthemic.

So, yes, another no-questions-just-loved-it thumbs up for Kylie in concert. Quite what she's going to do with her utterly hopeless record company, I don't know, but perhaps that's a question for another day. If the less-than-great sales of X made anyone question her popularity, this triumphant and doubtlessly enjoyable show (having seen two, they are consistently energetic and joyous) offsets that. And Kylie can slip off for a few weeks on a tropical island somewhere to recouperate with a smirk, one raised eyebrow and the sublime knowledge that for a feel-good live pop experience, she sets the gold standard.

In my arms (fan-made live video from Budapest)