Tag Archives: One

Interviews with Creative Minds. No.20: Jazzy Heath.

With a voice spun from pure silk and rainbow dust, Jazzy Heath is one of the best finds on the Isle of Wight music scene in the past few years. She’s also the 20th member of the Creative Minds crew, sitting with Dom Kureen to discuss life, music, veganism and much more besides!

Features two of Jazzy’s tracks: Freedom and My Spirit’s Free.


The Links

Read Jazzy’s food blog

Jazzy’s website

Jazzy’s Friendlyface page

Written by Dom Kureen

As a young rapscallion stranded on an Island, my time is split between writing, performing spoken word, wrestling alligators and delivering uplifting pep talks to hairdressers before they prune me.
I meditate and wash daily when possible.

Mourinho Meltdown?

For approaching two decades he’s been among the ego upper echelon of football managers, but Jose Mourinho has always backed up fanciful boasts with a steady haul of trophies, championships and personal accolades.

Nevertheless, some observers have questioned his recent judgement, and with good reason, as a clutch of seemingly petty incidents have snowballed into something potential unsettling.

In isolation an underwhelming summer transfer window, patchy pre-season and disappointing start to the 2015-16 Premier League campaign are not anything to get too steamy under the collar about. It is the Portuguese coach’s reaction to these that hasn’t gone down well in certain quarters.

 
The enemy within

Most concerning for many Chelsea supporters is the manner in which the self anointed “Special One” chastised his hitherto heralded medical chief Eva Carneiro, unfairly in the eyes of most onlookers, for tending to a stricken Eden Hazard during an opening day contest with Swansea City.

Her immediate intervention meant that The Blues, already a man down thanks to Thibaut Courtois’ dismissal early in the second half, were temporarily reduced to nine until the Belgian winger was allowed to return to the pitch.


Stamford Bridge Scapegoat

Jose had steam gushing from his lug-holes at the conclusion of the 2-2 draw with the Welsh side and, as he has so often in the past, he sought out a scapegoat.

Only this time it wasn’t the referee, opposing manager or shape of the balls; Mourinho, the manager emphatic in expressing public loyalty throughout his career, decided to throw his main medic under the bus (possibly the same one he’s accused opponents of parking in previous seasons.)

Carneiro was banished from the bench for the clash of the oil-funded juggernauts with Manchester City, but this failed to improve fortunes as the South London club were humiliated 3-0 by the team now favourites to dethrone them as England’s champions.


Terry out, (Stones in?)

During the match Captain John Terry was substituted for the first time in 177 league matches under Mourinho, cutting a gloomy figure on the visitors’ bench for the remainder of the contest.

Two competitive matches is evidently not enough to make an assessment on a manager whose battalion so recently cruised to their first league title in five years with the efficiency demanded from the top.

What is clear in this era of milk, honey, oil and embarrassing riches, is that those who stand still are soon surpassed by proactive peers. Gone are the days of bedding in skittish youth players until Christmas, certainly when it applies to those at the top of the pyramid.

Jose Mourinho

The modern game is a fickle one; yesterday’s apple of the eye is destined to become tomorrow’s decomposing core. One misplaced utterance or flicker of ill-fortune can be the trigger for itchy-fingered billionaires to direct their firing squad towards former icons.

As the strain grows on Mourinho, he will privately regret his own hair trigger tendencies which have resulted in a world-class medic contemplating her position, and a long-serving captain hardly able to conceal his disgruntlement.

The Special One is mortal after all it seems.

Written by Dom Kureen

As a young rapscallion stranded on an Island, my time is split between writing, performing spoken word, wrestling alligators and delivering uplifting pep talks to hairdressers before they prune me.
I meditate and wash daily when possible.

One Direction members smoke a cigarette!

One Direction caused panic amongst their devoted ‘Directioners’ recently when members Zayn Malik and Louis Tomlinson were pictured puffing on a roll up cigarette. 

One Direction on stageForgiven for releasing last year’s most disturbing audio experience in the shape of charity hit One Way Or Another (Teenage Kicks) –  an emasculated cluster fuck that achieved the seemingly impossible by victimising two legendary tracks in the space of three horrible, gut wrenching minutes, it seems that the boys have finally alienated a section of their legion of followers with this latest heinous act.

In a paean to the war on drugs, it appears that after inflicting several years of agony upon the music industry and having their deeply irritating pastiche forced into the weeping eyeballs of the 99.6% of folk who find them torturous, it is the act of smoking a cigarette that has provided the straw to eventually break the camel’s back – with some speculating that, get this, these adults may have been smoking mari-joo-arna and not regular tobacco!

Bloody pot heads, Johnny Cash and his gashed veins must be rolling around the afterlife in disgust.

This story is a tabloid editor’s wet dream – false idols, alleged drug use, an opportunity to shoot down two guys in their twenties that have been placed on a lofty perch in order that their inevitable plummet be from the greatest possible ceiling.

One Direction's next album cover hasn't met with Simon Cowell's approval.
One Direction’s next album cover hasn’t met with Simon Cowell’s approval.

As a music fan I find myself repulsed by the behind the scenes puppetry of the One Direction experience and most of what their officially branded personae stand for.

Their music is soulless, they don’t appear to have the talent of boy bands such as McFly and their existence as a faction serves only as a glorification of superficial substance trumping desire and hard graft, I’m certainly not an advocate for these kinds of manufactured, polished turds.

Despite those views, I do sympathise with the actual beings behind the collective. 18-22 year old boy-men faced with constant scrutiny, as a result always in danger of affecting the sensibilities of anally retentive busybodies, with any action that doesn’t fit the criteria for their particular mould a fractious one.

Tomlinson would rather be playing football week in and week out for his beloved Doncaster Rovers, while Malik, his cohort during ‘rollie-gate’, would dearly love to spend more time collecting cloth shoes to add to his current assemblage of 188 pairs – there are only so many Topman stores one can visit when touring the planet.

Harry Styles has always desired an opportunity to work for the United Nations, indeed he penned an entire album with his MENSA colleagues about the plight of those afflicted by the Apartheid government of Zimbabwe, questioning the strict dictatorship of Robert Mugabe, whilst considering whether the nonagenarian possesses retrospective contrition regarding some of his  most stringent bills.

Instead Styles is compelled to lip sync gawky ditties selected by  54 year-old matriarchs with haunted faces, who have somehow managed to capture the spirit of 14 year-old girls.

Tomlinson: As good at football as he is at singing.
Tomlinson: As good at football as he is at singing.

Inevitably the five members eventually rebel – it begins with a cheeky toke on a roll up cigarette, evolves to Mary-Jane, then what? Intercourse with older ladies?  Public potty mouthed outbursts?  Writing their own songs without permission from above?

It’s Britney Spears all over again unless Cowell and co can get to grips with the boys and strangle the individuality out of them, laying down the law to an unshakable manifesto to conform or perish.

Alternatively, perhaps it was just a couple of young guys having some fun on a boat and escaping the stereotypes they’ve had to deal with for the past few years.

 

Written by Dom Kureen

As a young rapscallion stranded on an Island, my time is split between writing, performing spoken word, wrestling alligators and delivering uplifting pep talks to hairdressers before they prune me.
I meditate and wash daily when possible.

Enemy Within The Camp

Lewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg’s tempestuous alliance came to a head during qualifying for the Monaco Grand Prix last weekend, with the Brit feeling aggrieved at what he considered to be a deliberate sabotage of his final bid to prise pole-position away from his Mercedes cohort.

Kewis Hamilton and Nico Rosberg

Rosberg went on to win the race, with Hamilton 2nd, meaning that the German regained top spot in the championship, having finished as runner-up to his team-mate on four consecutive occasions previously.

This isn’t the first occurrence of Nicole Scherzinger‘s bygone beau coming into conflict with an apparent ally, having locked horns with Spaniard Fernando Alonso when the two were on McLaren’s books during the 2007 F1 season.

There’s no doubt that the 28 year old’s pursuit of perfection often rubs those closest to him up the wrong way, nor that he possesses a volatile streak that is equal measures blessing and curse.

Conscious that he is the superior technician in the team, Hamilton is abundantly aware that, equipped with this season’s premier vehicle, a better opportunity will rarely, if ever, present itself to augment his single world-title haul, with 2008 providing an isolated triumph thus far.

Rosberg on the other hand is aiming for a first success and, whilst not as naturally blessed as Hamilton, is arguably the most psychologically stable competitor on the circuit.

With the German now four points clear of his sidekick, the remaining races promise to unfurl into an intense two-horse race to the title, with the uneasy union between the two Mercedes drivers only likely to get more fraught as the pressure intensifies.

One thing that is for certain is that while it’s a relief to see a team other than Red Bull dominate on the track, the same issues are still prevalent in motor sports’ premier competition, as one team has a set-up that is vastly superior to any other, guaranteeing that the only competition come courtesy of their own ranks.

On the plus side, this one promises to go down to the wire, unlike many of the glorified processions witnessed during Sebastian Vettel’s previous half a decade of supremacy.

 

Written by Dom Kureen

As a young rapscallion stranded on an Island, my time is split between writing, performing spoken word, wrestling alligators and delivering uplifting pep talks to hairdressers before they prune me.
I meditate and wash daily when possible.