Due to the overwhelming deluge of offers of support to help maintain this blog, we’ve been having a think abvout the whole website and, thanks to our lovely friends at Music Glue, you will shortly notice some fairly major changes to how the Tw Forum website looks, resulting in Blam being moved directly into the website.

This will make it infinitely more likely that Blam will be up to date, as the posts for each night will be linked into the diary, removing the need for one of us to wander drunkenly into the office at 4am and notice that we are still showing the dates from December 1996. In case you be afeared of change, panic not. Blam will continue to be poorly written drivel with a side order of narcissism and a mile long streak of overdone sarcasm. It will be the same content, it will just be in a different place. And look nicer. And be updated a bit better.


Many of you will, by now, have noticed that Blam gets edited at frighteningly infrequent intervals and seemingly on a whim. There’s no rhyme or reason why we do this, no method in our madness, no secret plan to catch you unawares, we just do it when we get time and don’t do it when we don’t have time.

Nonetheless, we recognise that for many of you, life is simply incomplete without a regularly updated free rundown on all the gigs you won’t bother to go to but will later claim to have been at if it makes you look cool. To this end, we would like to invite each and every one of you to review, preview, interview, spout off, mock, publicise, slander and just generally make up whatever you want about whatever it is you want to make it up about and submit it to us so that there’s some sort of rolling content thing. This article is particularly aimed at the several dozen people whose fingers are currently poised over their keyboard on an urgent mission to send us an email bemoaning the lack of mentions to date of their own band, their cousins band, a bloke their mate once met’s band…. we don’t have time to review all the upcoming stuff because there’s too much of it, but we will happily carry whatever you send us in the shape of a ludicrously over the top puff piece thinly veiled as a critical review.

Seriously, if you don’t think there’s enough about you or somebody you care about on this website, send us something and we’ll put it up for you.

Otherwise, shut the fuck up. Eythangu.

A slightly over excited gaggle of local journalists clustered round the steps of that massive staircase that doesn’t serve any useful purpose at the front of The Forum this week to watch Tom Riddlemetimbers help Klaus von Derbar wave his arms about in a slightly gay manner following the surprise election of Mr Riddlemetimbers to the position of “door bloke”.

Mr Riddlemetimbers was clearly in a celebratory mood, announcing “this is the end of the Old Forum, this has sent a message to the owners, there’s no turning back now, this is the most important day in history, Geoffrey Boycott, Gary Barlow, Norman Wisdom, Larry Grayson, your boys took one hell of a beating!! There’s no stopping us now, my new regieme will soon take charge and undo 15 years of failed booking poilicies by this tired and confused administration. In less time than it takes a dog to relieve itself against a tree, my school friends and I will give this town what it wants.” Asked to elaborate on the changes from the current line up he would bring about, Mr Riddlemetimbers expanded on his theme; “We want to see hot new bands, a wide range of entertainment, the best in local bands, we want to really give people what they want, not like this tired and confused administration”. When it was pointed out to him that this was exactly what the current administration already had in place, Mr Riddlemetimbers agreed “ah, yes, you see, but they are tired and confused, whereas we are new and shiny and smile a lot. Is that the time? oooo, must dash”.

Shocked, horrified, stunned and just plain old puzzled were some of the reactions this week to the announcement of the Forum’s all new funding programme introduced like a thief in the night last month while no one was looking. Confirming the new proposals, Ian “show me your blood grouping” Carvell said “This new pricing policy of charging the most to people who don’t have much taste and want to see bands most people don’t actually like may not make much economic sense for the punters, but I think people need to take a broader view of this scheme. Obviously some people who don’t have much taste are losing out, and it would be pointless to pretend otherwise, and obviously it will be a terrible shame if they are unable to pay and we have to come round and take their possessions away and perhaps claim their house and make them live on the streets and beg for the scraps off the table of life…………. but let’s try and take a measured approach and compare that with the fantastic benefits to our own pockets. Hang on, not that last bit……”

Explaining the new pricing programme, Tom Riddlemetimbers was at pains to point out the benefits “I know this might seem like we are un-necessarily taxing the pockets of those less well able to look after themselves, what with the obvious mental problems they experience already due to their predilection for Klaus Says Where’s My Record and Tom Williams and his Yacht, but we have , in a very real sense, supported these people for years and years with loads of schemes where Foxy the door bloke would let them in for a bag of crisps and a pickled egg, so now it’s time for the fuckers these highly valued members of our audience to pay their fair share. And everybody else’s fair share too. The proposals brought forward today see those members of our audience who are already struggling to raise the 50p needed to insure them against enjoying themselves asked to pay an additional £748 hearing tax per show. On the other hand, this redistirbution of payments means we are now able to offer an escort service direct from Daddy’s Porsche to the local off licence and then straight to the front of the stage for any patrons whose parents have given them more than £50 for the evening. As you can see, in any funding programme there are winners and losers.”

Speaking from his off shore yacht somewhere near the Costa Blanca, Herr Oberleutnant Marcus von Davyd offered these thoughts: “Speaking as a non dom tax exile whose banking of the vast Forum profits is secretly routed to me through a clever sweat shop trading scheme a bit like Top Trumps, I can only say that this is the best decision ever made in the history of the world and finally sees the burden for paying for everything fall where it should, e.g. on somebody else other than me. I appreciate that many of these people simply don’t have the resources to cover these new bills, but I can today announce that under another new scheme we will be employing a team of highly trained vampires to extract the penalty in blood. Failing that, we’re getting some local stone masons involved.”


In a sensational climbdown yesterday, Forum bosses announced that they won’t be changing the door policy after all. “This was the best idea we’ve ever had” said a camp spokesman in a long frock coat with a slightly mad stare “which is why it was so immensely popular. For those reasons, we’ve decided not to go ahead with it. Look into my eyes, directly into my eyes….. you are feeling sleepy…. none of this is happening.”

And you wonder why university students think it would be great larks to have BoJo the Clown as London Mayor……..

And so here it is, 2008. As usual, we’ve asked Mystic Mark to make his predictions based on your star charts, the i-Ching, tea leaves, and examining the back issues of Blam to see what he can get away with. Here it is, your guaranteed future* for the forthcoming year:


Capricorn (Dec 23 – Jan 22) – A mysterious stranger enters your sitting room at 7.19am on March 13th and doesn’t leave for a full twenty minutes. Other than that, a pretty uneventful year, except that you will die of a very painful gastric disease in mid-October. Lucky Number: 47. Lucky Animal: The Echidna.


Aquarius (Jan 23 – Feb 22) – The sign of water and of the coming of a new era of peace love and tranquillity. Which is ironic really, as this year you will be captured by some Japanese soldiers who are unaware that WWII has ended and will keep you locked up in a cellar for six months using the water torture method to extract information from you. Don’t worry though – an armistice will be declared in November, and you’ll be back home in time for Xmas. Lucky Number: 115.78. Lucky Animal: The singer of the ANWL.

Pisces (Feb 23 – Mar 22) – Pisceans have a number of fish like qualities, amongst them a very short memory. I said that Pisceans have a number of fish like qualities, amongst them a very short memory. That’s right, a number of fish like qualities, amongst them a very short memory. That’s a very short memory. Pisceans. That’s right, a short memory. (Note to Ed – yes I know we did that joke last year, but you see Pisceans have a number of fish like qualities, amongst them a very short memory.) (Second note to Ed – yes I know that this is exactly the same text we ran last year, even including the note to you, but they’ve got memories like goldfish you see. Very short. That’s the point). Lucky Number: Eleventy six. Lucky Animal: The Tarsier


Aries (Mar 23 – April 22) – You are covered in fur and answer to the name Billy. Lucky Zoo: Colchester. Lucky Day: Wednesday 14 September 1689


Taurus (April 23 – May 22) – In February you will invent something of no practical use and name it after your grandmother. Villagers will turn against you, and I see a hanging or possibly a burning unless you renounce your devotion to squirrels. A pet or relative called Arthur will catch something this year, possibly influenza but it could be slightly more serious. Lucky fruit: Loganberry. Lucky Fish: Atlantic Spade


Gemini (May 23 – June 22)Gemini suffer from their close proximity to God’s own creatures (see below for further details). Your failure to be born seven or eight days later has cursed you to a life of the nearly ran. Lucky Café: Carluccios. Lucky Penknife: Swiss Army


Cancer (June 23 – July 22) – Yet another great year for Cancerians everywhere who are lucky enough to share their birthday with some of the greatest individuals of all time. Life looks particularly rosy in a purple patch between January 2nd and December 28th when you will win the lottery, sign several multi platinum record deals and meet Miss World. Lucky Number: You don’t need any more luck, you’re a Cancerian!


Leo (July 23 – Aug 22) – Careful where you are putting it this year, it might drop off. There’s many a mickle maks a muckle, and the crows flying east at noon will rain on your parade if you don’t throw stones at horses in midstream. You live in a glass house and should buy some curtains. Lucky Room: The toilets at Fenwicks (male). Lucky Name: Steve.


Virgo (Aug 23 – Sept 22) – Famous Virgos include Freddie Mercury, Larry Grayson, Mr Humphreys from Are You Being Served and Peter Tatchell. There’s something that links you to all of them but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Lucky Sharon: Davis. Lucky Telephone Box: St James Road


Libra (Sept 23 – Oct 22) – Physically, individuals born under the sign of Libra supposedly tend to have a graceful figure, a charming appearance, a roundish head, a thin nose, refined features, a high forehead, and a ‘trademark’ dimple. You are Kirk Douglas, so one out of seven ain‘t bad. Lucky fruit: kumquat. Lucky pencil: HB


Scorpio (Oct 23 – Nov 22) – Scorpios have a reputation for gullibility, but you are so, so different from the rest. What is your beloved pet trying to communicate to you? Get the answers you need with a Free Pet Psychic Reading. Call 0898-648-1983. Lucky Plumber: D L Wilson, Rusthall. Lucky Year: 27 BC

Sagittarius (Nov 23 – Dec 22) – Optimistic and freedom-loving, jovial and good-humoured, honest and straightforward, intellectual and philosophical …. These are all the good traits of a typical Sagittarian. However, my big Boy Book of horoscopes says you can also be blindly optimistic and careless, irresponsible and superficial, tactless and restless. In April you will ask Keira Knightley if she wants to go Bungee jumping with you by shouting “Oi, skinny chops, wanna jump off a bridge?” You forget to attach the rope before pushing her off and spend the rest of the year in prison. Guess which ones you are? Lucky Bicycle: Raleigh Chipper (1977 version only). Lucky Book: Tibetan Book of the Dead


  • Please note, we cannot be held responsible for non delivery of any kitchen items predicted, all injuries sustained as a result of fulfilling these predictions at the risk of the user.
News unfolded this week of the frankly almost unbelievable turn of circumstances in the McCartney divorce case, to whit that the blonde large-breasted model with a penchant for taking her clothes off was apparently not the best marriage prospects for Sir Thumbs-a-loft, the well known ex-Frog Chorus leader. As Mrs Merton once asked Debbie McGee, “What did you first see in the millionaire Paul Daniels?”
Now, this is the sort of thing that normally leads us to write an highly amusing chortle filled piece vaguely pretending that Tom Riddlemetimbers is divorcing Jason Dormouse and running off with the money to set up a limb based jape infested charity operation offering free Unlabel CDs to the masses. That’s what we’d normally do, but this month a whole series of absolutely howling press releases have come across our desk that we can’t resist bringing you up to speed on, air headed fantasists with a paranoia complex the size of Lichtenstein notwithstanding.
Yes, it’s that annual time of year when Saint Michael of Eavis is given a free ride by the UK press to make a series of completely unconvincing statements about how we are all in it together, there’s no need for paths, there’s no need to announce the line up, and the people who go to Glastonbury Festival enjoy being treated like Battle of the Somme recreation enthusiasts with an added dose of George Orwell’s 1984 interrogation techniques thrown in.Now, we know that a lot of you at The Forum are confirmed Glasto enthusiasts, and as dedicated music fans you probably try and make the best of the opportunity it gives you to see as many bands as possible. But the truth is (OK, it’s not the truth, it’s just an opinion, but it’s not an opinion that you can read anywhere else so stick with me) that Glastonbury has completely lost its way, that its one of the most badly run and yet most profitable festivals in Europe, that’s its infested by people who don’t actually like music but are “there for the experience man”, that’s its overhyped, that it’s way too much money, and that for the last ten years its been coasting by on its reputation and the compliant self interest of the UK music media – last year’s coverage by the BBC should have come with a warning that it was paid for advertising; did anybody else see Jo Whiley and co desperately trying to suggest that people were having so much fun in the rain and the mud that they were all funned out and needed to go home early on Sunday?
Anyway, this year registration for the opportunity to buy a ticket (a process akin to giving the National Lottery details of your DNA in order to be able to buy a scratch card, only with the added delight of being automatically added to their ever expanding database so they can spam your inbox on an hourly basis to let you know what a great time you could have been having if you’d won) has dropped dramatically. How dramatically? They won’t say. And nobody will ask them who could probably get an answer, cos that might involve their guest passes being revoked. To add injury to this, Radiohead then announced that they had been approached to play, but wouldn’t because of the environmental damage the festival goers cause. And finally, Mr Eavis was forced to confirm that the headliners were indeed Jay Z, The Verve and Kings of Leon, as this had been widely leaked throughout Europe.
Now, let’s look at the evidence. The entry price this year is £155. Which means that most people should budget £500 minimum to get there, eat, have their tent stolen, catch some sort of eradicated third world disease, see five bands and get back again, provided of course that the gestapo will let you in. So, what we’re expecting from Mr Eavis would be some recognition of those facts within the way that the festival presents itself to the public. More fool us.
Those three crap headliners? They’re thrilled to have them, and they never went after anybody else, honest. They certainly weren’t trying to keep them secret in case anybody ended up not buying a ticket, and anybody who says they did is just trying to spoil the fun so there. Glastonbury is the greenest festival there is by miles. All those thousands of people polluting up the countryside, filling up acres of landfill with human excrement and burger wrappers and then driving hundreds of miles back home in mummys 4 x 4? Ignore that! We’ve got biodegradable tent pegs (they won’t keep your tent in place, but then that was going to happen anyway when some weekend hippy decided it would be right larks to piss about at 4am). And the massive drop in applications? That’s not that less people want to go, or are prepared to put up with the ridiculous process require to get a ticket, it’s that they are super delighted that this year the audience has become “more selective”. HA HA AHA AHAHAHAHAHA (falls off chair). MORE SELECTIVE??? Christ on a bike………
We at The Forum could learn a lot from the Glastonbury press department. Next time you’re down the Forum on a cold Wednesday night with only your parka and the barman for company watching three local bands trog through their wares, just remember kids: It’s not that they are less popular than Blood Red Shoes, it’s that they attract a more selective audience. And the lack of bog paper? That’s just our environmental policy in action.
If you’re wondering how all these things hang together, its our believe that the Glasto press department is solely manned by Heather Mills. And we want her for Blam.

It’s the night all Tunbridge Wells is buzzing about, the once a year annual back slapping fest that is The Shits Awards in which a half addled presenter, his plastic wife and unsightly children (god alone knows what the wardrobe department were thinking, the fat panda looked like she’d been seriously assaulted), get together to present some of the most glaringly obvious awards to the most completely unsurprising people as voted for by a crack team of promotions people who haven’t sold enough Adele albums yet.

As with previous years, the nominations are carefully worked out in advance to ensure that each major label is adequately represented and that anybody who doesn’t agree to toe the party line on how great Mika is will be excluded. The panel considered their verdicts for some full five minutes before agreeing to divide them up as usual on the basis of who needs the publicity most.

Special awards for Not Dying and Being Alive went to a small Australian and an old bloke what your dad thinks is proper music, but the real award winners were once again you the listening public, who will get to hear not only Mika but also Kate Nash on repeat play for another 12 months to celebrate this glorious age of golden tunes.

The judges admitted to being somewhat puzzled this year to be asked to vote for the same bunch of token northerners as last year, but apparently nobody else has made any albums, so ey up our kid again for Arctic Monkeys, who did at least look surprised to hear that the second best album they’ve made is the best we could manage this year. A bunch of blokes who it’s quite difficult to dislike were awarded the prize for getting back together, and the proper music awards went to a bunch of foreign people who do this kind of thing much better than us.

OK, so I know that the above is pointing out the glaringly obvious, and that in any case we probably shouldn’t care, but seriously, is it any wonder that the UK’s standing for music worldwide is at an all time low if we use our one night of the year that anybody internationally pays any attention to us to ram home the message that we have nothing new or interesting to offer? There’s some great music coming out the UK right now, but how the fuck you would be expected to know that on the basis of this shower of shit is beyond me.

If that wasn’t bad enough…. That pack of wankers at the front? They are apparently our bright new hopes courtesy of the Brit School. Now, you may say I don’t know much about music, and you might claim that they were young, and excited, and overcome, and possibly, to judge by former graduates, out of their tiny minds on class A drugs, but seriously, can anybody find me 300 other people in the entire fucking country who not only do not know how Hey Jude goes, but cannot manage to pick up the difficult bit at the end when it is presented to them in the easy format of having somebody standing three metres in front of you asking you to sing “La – la la, la la lala”?

Christ on a fucking bike……. Frankly, where is a decent terrorist when you need one?

Coming up at The Forum this month: None of the above.

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