Portal

88 St John Street EC1M 4EH

Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil. Lord knows, He could try. All manner of damnable sins are in Portal and save you from them He shall not. Lust, gluttony, greed and sloth – they all have their place at Portal. It’s name alone implies a gateway to a world less pious than ours.

Indeed, much like Dante describing his many-levelled Inferno, Portal is peopled by the sleaziest of humans – lawyers, stockbrokers, TV execs, football managers – each of them accompanied by a woman too tactile to be their daughter, too young to be their colleague and too blonde to be their wife.

It’s hard to write about Portal without mentioning ‘Mourinho and the bug’. This was the story in 2006 involving the restaurant and a bugging device used to eavesdrop on the Chelsea manager’s idle dinner chatter. Some theories have it that Mourinho’s opponents were attempting to find out if he’s a 4-3-3 man or whether he prefers something a little more direct. However, there’s no doubt that what the culprits would’ve heard was nothing more than a symphony of moaning, masticating and carnal wailings. These are the sounds issued when superior Portuguese authenticity is regarded for all its worth.

Portal is The Special One. This is the sort of wickedness no human can deny. This is indulgent luxury at its very worst and very best. It cant be good for you, so you’ll do it anyway.

The bar has a voluptuous array of eye-catching species:
- unique wanton liqueurs such as acorn, honey, cherry and almond (and even a brand that translates into “when you get the stiff”)
- sweet, treacly, dry white apéritif muscatels that prevent global warming by negating the need to ever fly to Portugal
- Wines such as the Quinta do Portal Reserva Douro 2003, from where the venue’s name originates
- Port that has been carefully selected by owner Antonio Correia whose knowledge of the drink has earned him a recent invitation to join The Royal Port Society

If the bar is limbo then the restaurant is the second chamber of Sin. What is ostensibly a cow-shed with a duel personality (a greenhouse), the large, open, bright space is deliberately alfresco in its implication. The enormity of the windows, the stripped bare brickwork, the mystery held within the dark stained wood – all combine to intensify the promiscuousness of the visage. Even the bathrooms are stocked with Molton Brown products - a sure sign of perversion.

The food itself is summoned from an open plan kitchen and has a traditional, rustic Iberian persuasion. A magnitude of alluring varietals are on offer but eschew them all, except one. There is but one licentious combination that is more captivating than all the others put together.

The entrée is simple. Foie gras complimented by a1977 Reserva muscatel. You may be inclined not finish it all, as is the etiquette of restaurants such as this, but it is futile to resist the temptation to lick the ‘harmony of two sauces’ from your plate.

Next comes the half-pig half-boar braised bisaro which was not only marinated in wine for 10 days, but also slow cooked for up to twelve hours. That’s tender. As your knife touches the flesh, see how it falls from the bone in submission.

The orgy climaxes in the final part of this orgasmic trilogy - a drunken pear in ‘aletria’. You now become sloth.

Note the reasonably extravagant prices. In order to get the full treatment here you’ll be expected to pay the price. Therefore, save it for a client luncheon (company credit card) or a special anniversary with that young blonde you’ve been seeing. Your secret is safe, the bugs have been killed.

As for the remaining three sins – envy, anger and pride – just watch your friends’ faces when you tell them about your adventure at Portal…it’s discovery or damnation!

Doing for gastronomy what Cristiano Ronaldo does for football. Otherwise 9 out of 10

Urban Inc.

The O2
Peninsula Square SE10 0DX

Do you tire of night outs in chic, classy and imaginatively creative cocktail bars? Do you find the convivial nature of their clientele all too approachable and perhaps a little pompous? Do you crave the good old days of a drink-addled stupour and sharing your dancefloor with a gaggle of sweaty hen-nighters? Then boy does The O2 have a treat for you.

Conveniently located in the middle of absolutely nowhere, about six tube changes and three cans of Stella from your local station (which is probably Dagenham or Epping), Urban Inc is proud to be part of the welcoming O2 complex.

Once you’ve sauntered along the brash Hollywood-style ‘Entertainment Avenue’, mouth agape marvelling at its vulgarity, you’ll arrive at your destination for the evening. And there’s no need to be shy at Urban Inc. As a provincial townie, you are not alone. You’ll feel right at home amongst the drab shirts and Top Shop frocks. These people have the social finesse of a enraged bull. These are your kind of people.

Be amazed by the tawdriness of the disco lights stapled to the ceiling. Stare in wonder at the 80s corrigated mirror facade encircling the entire bar. Stumble about with fits of laughter after glimpsing of the comedy urinals. Does it get any better than this?

Urban Inc isn’t really a cocktail bar, it’s the Red Dwarf docking station. It’s cheapily made, it has wobbly exposed piping and everyone looks a bit alien. Plus, the gaudy space age furniture looks like it’s recently arrived from Planet Ikea, via the Croydon Nebula.

This space station venue is filled with the sort of people who like nights out at Tiger Tiger, shopping on Oxford Street, and think that a decent family getaway involves the words ‘Alton’ and ‘Towers’.

Its two large rooms are not seperated like most other (sensible) bars. No, these rooms share a DJ, so you’re never more than a few feet away from a heady mix of singalong RnB classics and paint-by-numbers House (or should that be ‘Bungalow’?). And if you like it “Hot in Here” just remember Urban Inc is inside the World’s biggest tent so you’re keep nice and clammy for the duration of your evening. Who needs The End when you can have Urban Inc?

The sort of place you’d see Girls Aloud. Before they were Girls Aloud, of course. Otherwise 4 out of 10

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Soho & The West End
Metal Militia (27 Oxford Street),
Bar Soho (23-25 Old Compton Street),
Café Boheme (13 Old Compton Street),
Retro Clothing (75 Berwick Street),
Mister CD (80 Berwick Street),
Endurance (90 Berwick Street),
Music Video Excange (95 Berwick Street),
New Piccadilly (8 Denman Street),
Piccadilly Backpackers (12 Sherwood Street),
Vans (47 Carnaby Street),
Sacred (13 Ganten Street),
Sherry's (24 Ganten Street),
Onitsuka (15 Newbergh Street),
55 DSL (10a Newbergh Street),
Tin Pan Alley (7 Denmark Street),
Andy's (1-6 Denmark Street),
Show Good (33 Short Garden),
Loewy (Ealham Street),
The Maple Leaf (41 Maiden Lane),
The Corner Store (33 Wellington Street),
The Actors Centre (1A Tower Street),
Footes (10 Golden Square),
The Glass Blower (42 Glasshouse Street),
The Warwick (123 Warwick Street),
Flat White Café (17 Berwick Street),
Vinyl Junkies (94 Berwick Street),
Frontier (9 Brewer Street),
St. James Tavern (45 Great Windmill Street),
Merc (10 Carnaby Street),
Lee (13/14 Carnaby Street),
The Face (1 Marlborough Street),
A-Style (8 Newbergh Street),
Shakespeare's Head (2-6 Inverness Terrace),
Wunjo Guitar (20 Denmark Street),
Bass Cellar (22 Denmark Street),
TPA Dums (23 Denmark Street),
Bar Chocolate (26 D'Arblay Street),
Twenty8 (28, D'Arblay Street),
The Player (8 Broadwick Street),
The John Snow (39 Broadwick Street),
Amber (6 Poland Street),
Cinch (5 Newburgh Street ),
The Sun and 13 Cantons (21 Great Pultney Street),
Two Floors (3 Kingly Street ),
Bar Rumba (36 Shaftesbury Avenue),
The Village (81 Wardour Street ),
Cult (Unit 1.2 - 1.4 Kingly Court Carnaby Street ),
Alphabet Bar (61-63 Beak Street),
Garlic and Shots (14 Frith Street),
London Piercing Studios (37 Berwick Street Basement),
Piccadilly Hotel (12 Sherwood Street),
Northumberland Arms (119 Tottenham Court Road),
ULU (Malet Street),
Potion Bar (28 Maple Street),
Marylebone Tup (93 Marylebone High Street),
Shaftesbury Student Housing (Dinwiddy House, 189-205 Pentonville Road),
Black Market Records (25 D'Arblay Street),
Uptown Records (Trocadero Centre, Coventry Street ),
Vinyl Junkies (94 Berwick Street),
Wyld Pytch Rekords (51 Lexington Street)


Bayswater & Paddington
The Backpackers Hostel (78-82 Kensington Gardens Square),
The Lodge (44 Norfolk Square),
The Quest Hotel (45 Queensborough Terrace),
Royal Bayswater Hotel (121 Bayswater Road),
Leinster Inn (7-12 Leinster Square),
Lancaster Court Hotel (204 Sussex Gardens),
Palace Hotel (48-49 Princess Square),
Carnivale (47 Hereford Road),
Hyde Park Hostel (2-6 Inverness Terrace),
West Two Hotel (22-23 Kensington Gardens Square),
Millenium Lodge (26 Princess Square),
Palace Court Hotel (64-65 Princess Street),
Torquay House (1 Torquay Street),
Sandeman Allen House (40 Inverness Terrace),
Hyde Park Inn (48-50 Inverness Terrace),
Elitelodge Ltd (56 Kensington Gardens Square),
London Hostels Association Ltd (New Mansion, 38 Lancaster Gate),
Four Seasons (84 Queensway),
The Bengal Restaurant (62 Porchester Road),
Hair At 17 (17 Connaught Street),
The Porchester (Cnr. Bishops Gate and Porchester),
The Daniel Gooch (40 Porchester Road),
Queens Hotel (86-92 Inverness Road),
Park Lodge Hotel (73 Queensborough Terrace),
Kings Hotel (60-62 Queensborough Terrace),
Manor Lodge (14-15 Queensborough Terrace),
Liesure Inn (40-41 Leinster Gardens),
Pride Of Paddington (1 Craven Road),
Royal Norfolk Hotel (25 London Street),
Fountains Abbey (109 Praed Street),
The Athena (100-112 Sussex Gardens),
The Gresham Hotel (116 Sussex Gardens),
Bayswater Arms (Cnr. Queensway and Moscow),
Adare Hotel (153 Sussex Gardens)


Covent Garden
Bunker Bearhall (41 Earlham Street ),
Boxfresh (13 Shorts Garden),
Mooks (18 Shorts Garden),
Ticket Agency (10 The Arches, Villiers Street),
Walkabout Inn (22 Maiden Lane),
Michael Page (39-41 Parker Street),
Roadhouse (35 The Piazza),
Leisure Exchange (7 Great Queen Street),
Pop Boutique (6 Monmouth Street),
England Rocks Ltd (Unit 28, The Market, The Lower Piazza),
Rockstop Music Ltd (128 Charing Cross Road),
Plastic Fantastic Records (35 Drury Lane),
Pleasuredome (Unit 27, New Jubilee Market, Southampton St),
Pepe (33 Neal Street ),
The Loft (35 Monmouth Street ),
Neals Corner Sandwich Shop (1 Monmouth Street),
City Lit (1-10, Keeley Street),
Mambo (39 Shelton Street),
Crown & Anchor (22 Neal Street),
Rokit (42 Shelton Street),


Kensington
Rushmore Hotel (11 Trebovir Road),
Snappy Tomato Pizza (174 Earls Court Road),
The Court Hotel (194-196 Earls Court Road),
Prince Of Teck (161 Earls Court Road),
Courtfield (187 Earls Court Road),
Windsor House (12 Pennywern Road),
Lord Jim Hotel (23-25 Pennywern Road),
Troubadour (265 Old Brompton Road),
Zetland Arms (Old Bute Street),
Fitness First (29-37 Harrington Road),
Hanley House Hotel (30 Barkston Gardens),
Burns Hotel (18-26 Barkston Gardens),
The Kings Head (17 Hogarth Place),
Café Bravo (68 Kenway Road),
The Duke Of Clarence (148 Old Brompton Road),


Camden
The Black Rose (Unit 27 Stanley Sidings, Chalk Farm Rd),
Inhabittion (Chalk Fam Road),
The Misty Moon (4 Chalk Farm Road),
The Sea Shell of Lisson Grove (49-51 Lisson Grove),
Superfi (2-4 Camden High Street),
North Westminster Music School (Penfold Street),
Dots – The Camden Music Shop (132 St Pancras Way),
Smart Camden Inn (55-57 Bayham St),
All Ages Record Shop (27a Pratt Street),
Know How Records (3 Buck Street),
Lloyds Bar (28A/28B Jamestown Road),
Belushi's (48-50 Camden High Street),
The Liberties Bar (100 Camden High Street),
Music & Video Exchange (281 Camden High Street),
The Oxford Arms (265 Camden High Street),
Tommy Flynn's (55 Camden High Street),
The Cobden Arms (28-30 Camden High Street),
The Camden Arms (1 Randolph Street),
Peachykeen (112 Kentish Town Road),
Quinn's (65 Kentish Town Road),
The Spread Eagle (141 Albert Street),
The Edinboro Castle (57 Mornington Terrace),
The Earl Of Camden (55 Parkway),
The Golden Lion (88 Royal College Street),
Lush (31 Jamestown Road),
The Good Mixer (30 Inverness Street),
The Hawley Arms (2 Castlehaven Road),
Lock Tavern (35 Chalk Farm Road),
Cyberdog (Unit 14 The Stables Market Chalk Farm Road),
Purple Turtle (61-65 Crowndale Road),
The Lockside Lounge (75-89 Upper Walkway),
Lock 17 (18 East Yard),
Chain Reaction (208, Chalk Farm Road),
Dandy (6 Chalk Farm Road),
Episode (26 Chalk Farm Road),
Subways (59 Chalk Farm Road),
Casablanca (34 Chalk Farm Road),
The Roundhouse (100A Chalk Farm Road),
Bar Fly (Chalk Fam Road),
The Enterprise (2 Haverstock Hill),
Scorpion (16 Chalk Farm Road),
Disca Tagration (Unit 516, Stabley Market),
New Rock (218 Camden High Street),
Bar Vinyl (6 Inverness Street),
Channel Films (20 Kentish Town Road, Unit 2),
The Devonshire Arms (33 Kentish Town Road),
Tupelo Honey (27 Parkway),
Bugbear Discs (96 Parkway),
Hope & Anchor (74 Crowndale Road),
The Crescent (1 Camden High Street),
NW1 Bar (32 Parkway),
La Porchetta (74-77 Chalk Farm Road),
Ken Urban (5 Chalk Farm Road),
Phunky Fish (1 Chalk Farm Road),
Dublin Castle (94 Parkway),
Marathon (85 - 86 Chalk Farm Road),
Camden Internet Café (50 Chalk Farm Road),


Islington
Disque Records (11 Chapel Market),
Mambo (8 Parkfield Street (off Upper Street),
ZEE & Co (36 Upper Street),
Tinderbox (21 Upper Street),
Steam Passege (44/45 Upper Street),
Stone (48 Upper Street),
Walkabout (56 Islington High Street (Upper Street),
O'Neills (59 Upper Street),
Ladybird (70 Upper Street),
Sracan Kebabs (89 Upper Street),
The Bull (100 Upper Street),
Vultures Video (133 Upper Street),
Kinky Mambo (144 Upper Street),
Jorene Celeste (153 Upper Street),
Todds Café (170 Upper Street),
The Garden (179 Upper Street),
The Medicine Bar (181 Upper Street),
Hope & Anchor (207 Upper Street),
The Cedar Room (235 Upper Street),
Internet Café (237 Upper Street),
The Junction (2A Corsica Street),
Hen & Chicken (1 Corsica Street),
Charles Café/Bar (290 St Pauls Road),
Firezza (276 St Pauls Road),
Pepperpot (344A Essex Road),
Ocean Wines (198 Essex Road),
Haggle (114/116 Essex Road),
Instandler Pub (84/86 Essex Road),
The Old Queens Head (44 Essex Road),
The Winchester (2 Essex Road)


Notting Hill
Teaze (47 Pemb Road),
Soul + Dance Exchange (42 Notting Hill Gate),
Computer Games Exchange (40 Notting Hill Gate),
The Champion (1 Wellington Terrace),
Sun In Splendour (7 Portobello Road),
Mitchell & Butler (Unit 15 Port Green),
Rolys (Unit 15 Port Green),
Pitta The Great (272 Port Road),
Makan Coffee (270 Port Road),
Portobello Gold (95/97 Port Road),
Oatmeal Records (3 Hillgate Street),
The Hillgate (24 Hillgate Street),
Uxbridge Arms (13 Uxbridge Road),
AAA Cleaning (151 Notting Hill Gate ),
Euro Phil (155 Notting Hill Gate),
Rotisserie Jules (133a Notting Hill Gate),
Rough Trade Shop (130 Talbot Road),
Intoxica (231 Portobello Road),
Kensington Liesure Centre (Walmer Road),
Portobello Music (13 All Saints Road),
Le Cochonet Bar & Restaurant (1 Lauderdale Parade),
Westbourne Studios (242 Acklam Road),
Honest John (278 Portobello Road)

Perry Farrell

Let’s face it, pretense and pomposity, they’re both synonymous with rock and roll legends. It’s no secret Elvis took his personal plane from Tennessee to Colorado just because of a peanut butter sandwich. In more recent times, the unmitigated catalogue of assaults from Johnny Borrell on his comtemporaries proved yet again that he’s a bit of a four-letter word and that his ego inflates far quicker than Razorlight’s popularity. Clearly, for some, it can all go to their heads a little.

So, Perry Farrell: he’s peered through the fractious veil that surrounded the monumental Jane’s Addiction; he’s guest-fronted The Doors many times at the group’s personal request; he’s assumed the position of omnipotent commander over America’s attempt at Glastonbury, Lollapalooza. Surely by now he must be an unhinged and totally unapproachable megalomaniac?

Then again…

“I like curry. I had curry for dinner the day before yesterday and I had chips last night…” admitted Farrell in a buoyant conversation with base.ad recently, whilst touring the UK. Revealing a very personable and highly-sensitive disposition, Farrell not only spoke casually about British food, television and the desire not to covered in urine at the Download festival, but also touched on pressing matters such as global warming, abject slavery and the core ‘Solutionist’ message behind his new band, Satellite Party.

“I have a fondness for British people. What I especially like about the British people is their sense of humour and their sophistication when it comes to music” he confessed, before launching into a tale about watching jazz on the BBC. “It’s amazing that they have these shows that literally try to explain to the audience how music is made and how wonderful it is. The best thing we have in America is MTV and that’s not saying very much, is it?”

Well said, old chap.

Farrell’s ascendency from genuine rock legend to thoroughly nice bloke is demonstrated by his allegiance to a variety of noble causes. In 2001, he stormed into Northen Sudan with “some revolutionaries and abolitionists” and an exceedingly large bag of cash. The Sudanese government had forced many of its own people into slavery there and Farrell “literally traded for human life”. Thanks to his nads-of-steel gumption and humble generosity, 2300 lives were changed for the better. “We got the people back and freed them to go back to their villages.”

More recently, Farrell has concentrated his worldly efforts with a UK-based organisation called Global Cool. “Their ambition is to try to end global warming in a very fashionable way. They’re trying to do it using music as a catalyst for change,” Farrell was quick to mention in his earnest, yet savvy demeanour.

His environmental concerns have also seen Lollapalooza, the “completely carbon neutral festival”, donate funds to Costa Rican rainforest conservation aswell as to the city of Chicago “to beautify the parks and add oxygen back into the air.” He even had the opportunity to share tea and biscuits with Tony Blair during a chat about global warming earlier this year.

Nice one, mate.

“I like to think about making this beautiful change, this revolution solution. One where it feels good and when people contribute it makes their life better and makes them sexier.”

And this is where Satellite Party, with its electro-funk-orchestral-rock, becomes a venerable conduit for Farrell’s ‘Solutionist’ ideal. “I have in my mind what I want to do with the Solutionist movement. One thing is that we’re creating our own multimedia hub using live parties, events, webcasts and blogs.”

Ultrapayloaded is the conceptual end product. And althought it was cobbled together over three years using sticky tape and loo rolls it still blushes with an embarressment of name-droppable friends.

“Flea [yes, that Flea] and I were the first two people to start working on the songs. We’d surf in the morning and in the afternoons I’d make us sandwiches. We’d go into the garage and I’d program beats, sounds and loops. Then Flea would start laying grooves down.”

After that, heavyweights such as John Frusciante, Peter Hook and Jim ‘isn’t he dead?’ Morrison began popping up all over the album. One would assume this was because they too thought Farrell was just a very affable fella.

With the deference of a saint and the bonhomie of a close friend, Farrell further explained his movement, “I’m trying to create a modern myth that new renaissance artists are taking the world over through the strength of their creativity.….One night [in the myth] they’re asleep and coming through their radios is this vast visitation of energy. It’s a callout from the heavens that they’re having a party. The supreme being that’s hosting this party, this Satellite Party, is Jim Morrison.”

True, he may seem anachronistic and he may have felt more comfortable in a Magical Mystery Tour era, but wow, what a great geezer, hey?

Carbon

Old Quebec Street
London W1C 1LZ

Aside from sheep and Take That there isn’t much that is cloned as frequently as a London bar. Yet, despite its name, Carbon is definitely not a copy. Sure, like most venues in the capital, it’s got four walls, a bar and an Antipodean general manager, but that’s where the similarities end. It doesn’t do pints, it hasn’t got a happy hour and it most certainly wont turn you away just for wearing trainers.

Carbon has rejected the retro post-modern Avant-garde mainstay. It’s starting its own industrial revolution. Where once candlelights and faux chandeliers were acceptable, now they’re usurped by concrete walls, steel girders and chainmail curtains. It’s stripped back and simple. It’s mechanical and commodious. Basically, it’s the grown-up equivalent of a warehouse rave. Especially as the DJ spins out house music from his altar suspended above the bar.

Carbon is not interested in what you do for a living or who you Dad plays golf with. All it wants to know is your name and what you’d like to drink. Then it sets its comely waitresses the task of ensuring you have a good time. They are aided and abetted by a team of dark, rakish gents behind the bar who are more than willing to proffer the exceedingly strong house speciality, the Cullinan – a champagne cocktail so brilliant it puts its £220million Crown Jewel namesake to shame.

The ground floor is where the hoi polloi eyeball one another from behind martini glasses. The dimly-lit, clandestine mezzanine, however, is perfect for patrons of the famous, courting or just-plain-shy variety.

Carbon is a lot like Clapham’s White House in many respects. Only it has marginally fewer beautiful people and consequently marginally fewer over-inflated egos. Plus, it is blessed with Molton Brown lotion in loos.

Tony Blair would do well to choose this as his local once he moves into Connaught Square. Otherwise 8 out 10

Guanabara

Parker Street (Corner of Drury Lane)
London WC2B 5PW

Unless you’re Ken Livingstone gleefully switching the congestion charge machine back on after the weekend, or perhaps an avid film fan who enjoys ‘cheap night’ at the Clapham Picturehouse, then Mondays probably mean as much to you as they did to Sir Bob and his Boomtown Rats.

Filed away neatly in the ‘SUCK’ folder of your mind is that familiar working week affliction - hungover, skint, and feeling like a fat bloater - and all because your Saturday night out unexpectedly evolved into a Sunday afternoon sesh.

You’re unlikely to look much further than the ‘TV Guide’ button on your Sky remote for your Monday evening entertainment, therefore. If only there were a way to redeem yourself without the guilt of booze or an excruciating jog around ‘the Common’.

Enter Monday nights at Guanabara, London’s best Brazilian bar.

Earlier this year the Guanabara team, led by their amiable captain and all-round good sort - Bel, transformed Mondays into something more sophisicated. In all probability you’ve been to Guanabara before - it was a Friday night and the whole of London was there, scrummed down for the post-work summoning of the weekend Gods. Fridays can be ‘lively’, this is true. Mondays, however, are different. It’s a school night and should be a little more civilised, but with a hint of carnival to keep you interested.

Each week the traditional Brazilian pop genres of Chorinho and Bossa Nova take turns to soothe the weary souls that enter Guanabara. The first, Chorinho or ‘little lament’, pre-dates the notorious world of Brazilian jazz, yet only became successful once the bands began playing live over the radio.

Originally consisting of a trio - a flute, a guitar and a cavaquinho (a small chordophone) – Chorinho these days encompasses the mandolin, the clarinet and the saxophone as well. Its popularity faltered slightly when Bossa Nova was born (thanks to samba) during the 1960s.

The two classic genres invoke the spirit of youth and regeneration and why shouldn’t they; it was the students and young folk that made them popular in the first place?! It is no coincidence, therefore, that they afford the same esteem today. Guanabara, London’s Little Rio, is a big draw with the scholarly crowd at the beginning of the week, especially when bottles of Brazilian beer are on offer for only £1. However, for those that do not have the luxury of a 10am class to ignore the next morning (i.e. the rest of us) Chorinho and Bossa Nova provide a scientifically-proven antidote to all known Monday FODs (Feeling Of Doom). They can also help to rid your body of any superfluous lardiness. And in some cases, they can even help cure male pattern baldness, impotence, the pains of childbirth, nagging bosses, rising damp, rush hour traffic, obsessions with Ben Affleck and inevitable mortality.

Mondays are different at Guanabara. For a start, you can actually see the floor, which is an attribute often overlooked. Secondly, it’s free to get in, thus solving any financial tribulations. Thirdly, it’s the most enjoyable way to get fit.

Samba is to Chorihno as donkey rides are to Blackpool Pleasure Beach – nothing really happens unless you shift that ass. And there’s no better place to get some exercise than on Guanabara’s gigantic circular dancefloor, resplendent with miniature disco balls. After a free hour-long samba lesson you’ll have worked up a sweat, an appetite and a thirst. But remember, this is a Monday night. Save the caipirinhas for the weekend. Ignore the fact that Guanabara sells about 5 million different varieties of cachaça. This is the day to purge the weekend away and capitulate to your body’s retaliatory vexation! With this in mind Fluid recommends you complete the following once you’ve samba-ed your sins away:

- Drink one Passion Cooler non-alcoholic cocktail
- Order the spicy chorizo with flat bread ‘linguiça’ starter, but don’t eat it all because you need to save room for…
- One beef carne sanduíches with guacamole & salsa
- Drink one more non-alcoholic cocktail, perhaps the mango, passionfruit & banana Tropical Fusion, then…
- Sit back and let your dinner digest as you absorb one healthy dose of Chorinho courtesy of the band, Agua de Choro. This highly-proficient team of talented young men glide through an infectious mix of their unique material and a few consummate oldies (such as ‘Mais Que Nada’), all in the Choro style. They’re lead by a singer who is half angel, half mamacita and goes by the name Angelita (yes, that rhymes).

You have just reclaimed your Mondays!

The Vegemite Tales

Melanie Tait acted in much the same way as many of her young Australian brethren do when reaching the shores of England – she got a flatshare, she got drunk, she got laid. Same old story except, at the age of only 20, Melanie then put all of her experiences into a fringe play called The Vegemite Tales. The play became a hit and over the next few years the fringe grew out into a West End 8-weeker, now showing at the simply-named-for-a-reason ‘Venue’ theatre (“What venue is it at then?” - “Umm, The Venue, mate” – “Oh, right, cheers”).

As friend to many an Australian and seemingly token English bloke, I took my place in the crowd with a feeling similar to that of an outsider stepping into a outback Aussie pub. It was certain to get rowdy. The amount of crudeness and vulgarity I experienced during the 2-hour play was directly proportionate to the size of the Australian landmass itself - bloody massive and quite frankly, I loved every minute of it. I felt right at home amongst my Aussie counterparts thanks, in part, to a very familiar living room stage set, the provision of VB beer at the bar (situated right next to the action) and the quintessential piss puddles dowsed all over the toilet seat before the performance.

The basic premise of the play is just that - basic. Six-to-a-house flatsharers Gumtreeing their way through London life, avoiding the natives wherever possible and escaping whatever demons forced them out of Oz in the first place. The characters are all very recognisable (some painfully close to home) and there are some some neat behavioural observations akin to the fabulous Kath & Kim TV show or legendary Castle movie. Indeed, many of the jokes will require a second viewing, much to the promoters delight.

The play is mainly centred around the interaction between its participants, sporadically - and unnecessarily - interspersed with the odd moaning monologue (about the British banking system, tax system, etc). It doesn’t focus much on their experiences of London itself. But maybe that’s the point. Aside from the odd Willesden Green or Shepherd’s Bush reference, there isn’t much else to do with London. I tell a lie, St Mary Axe, or the Gherkin as we affectionately call it, did get a mention. But even that was only in passing (about its shape being similar to that of the male appendage).

The main character, Sam, and his portrayer, Andrew Robb, stole the show by convincing the audience that they were, collectively, one of his mates and part of the orphan family. The overall acting was dictated by the strength of the characters being played: Blair McDonough, once of Neighbours, was suitably vibrant; Tom Sangster, as Eddie the OTT dosser, was flamboyantly overacted; whilst all the emotive scenes were stereotypically handled by the ladies. In a show oozing with clichés there were a few diamond opportunites missed from the line-up, with the exclusion of a bleached-blonde Pole, a slovenly South African male and a fleece-wearing Kiwi.

It was good to see, however, that the Manúel character from Fawlty Towers (in this instance an Italian named Gio) still lives xenophobically on and remains a part of our comedy today, despite first being dreamt up years before most of us (you) were born.

The overall enjoyment of the play was as much about crowd participation as it was the script. Perfectly-timed audience flatulence or sniggering during the only ‘serious’ scenes are perfect ways to really engage with the performance. A comment from one of the punters coming out after the show said it all really:

“Fuck, that was fucking funny, eh.”

Despite there not being a straight face or dry eye in the place, the script possibly needs updating. When it was first written it would’ve been cutting edge and original but now some of the jokes are all too familiar. Sharpening up the edges and making it more contemporary would probably spruce it up and it is good to know that its creator, Melanie Tait, is currently working on a television serialisation of The Vegemite Tales.

Although it is a play, this is certainly not anything like ‘high culture’. It’s nearer to the culture that grows in old yoghurt pots at the back of your fridge than the Olivier kind of culture (he was an actor, c’mon people!). This is of no matter, though, because once you chosen this as your fulfillment of weekly filth you can make up the difference by attending Cinderella at the Royal Opera House later in the week (before then ruining it all again with a Friday night trip to the ‘Walkie’).

Predictable yet addictively humourous, perfect for a certain type of audience.

Not for people who spend Sunday afternoons at church and find it easy to help the less fortunate.

Definitely for people who spend Sunday afternoons at THE Church and find it easy to laugh at those less fortunate.

As an aside note, let us dispell of the argument, once and for all, that Marmite is as good as Vegemite. I love Britain and all that she stands for – pie & mash as a healthy alternative to fish & chips, a yearning to be burnt by the sun, smoking kids hanging out in shopping malls gobbing at passers-by – but when it comes to yeast and toast, the Australians have it made. End of.

Paul Oakenfold

Unless, in recent times, you’ve chosen to live the life of a recluse squatting in a tin of Spam then the chances are you would’ve heard the name Paul Oakenfold. This being the Paul Oakenfold who is a qualified chef; the Paul Oakenfold that, as an A&R man, procured the signatures of Will Smith and Salt & Pepper; the Paul Oakenfold whose girlfriend was once forced to chuck water over several customers from the pub below them because they’d started to urinate against their house; the Paul Oakenfold who recently put dibs on the Ministerial position for Entertainment; the Paul Oakenfold that once appeared alongside a breakdancing crew on Kid’s-TV-gold, Blue Peter. Yeh, that Paul Oakenfold.

The Ubiquitous and Multifarious Paul Oakenfold (that’s his official title now, I’m told) - DJ, producer, record label boss and general Godlike figure to trillions of dance followers - is so well known even your dear old Nana would confess, “he’s that fella that did that Big Brother jingle”. However, despite knowing the name, you and your Nana may not know much about the man himself. So, for your benefit, here is a brief Match of the Day highlights-type recap:

He was London-born in 1963; his first attempt at DJing was as a teenager in a Covent Garden wine bar; his production career began in ‘88 when he worked alongside Steve Osborne under the moniker, Electra; he had the privilege to tour with U2 in the 90s; he has remixed heavyweights like New Order, The Cure, Massive Attack and the Stone Roses; he has remixed paperweights like M People and Simply Red; he is, according to Q Magazine, one of the ’50 bands to see before you die’; he was awarded NME’s ‘Dance Record of the Year’ for his production on the Happy Mondays' single Wrote for Luck; he was resident DJ at Liverpool’s Cream until 1999, before taking up the Director of Music position at Leicester Square’s Home (which subsequently failed not long after he ended his contract); he was the first DJ to perform at the Great Wall of China; he was the first DJ to completely sell out the Hollywood Bowl; he is the only DJ to have his own display at Hard Rock Café’s Rock and Roll museum; he put music to action for the James Bond game Goldeneye: Rogue Agent; he penned the soundtracks for Planet of the Apes, Swordfish and Collateral (with three more on the way in 2006); and, his new album, Lively Mind, contains a bounty of collaborative goodies including actress Brittany Murphy, king nerd Pharrell Williams and the flashiest of grand masters, Grandmaster Flash.

It is, therefore, fair to say that this Paul Oakenwossit is quite a busy fella. Getting him to answer a few questions isn’t as simple as swanning up with a dandy grin and harping, “Alright Paul, giv us a interview, wouldya?!”

Getting a proper interview with Mr O requires great powers of persuasion and more contacts than Specsavers. Unfortunately, 020.com has neither, but what we are able to bring you is a slightly stale and less-than-filling email Q&A that took place just before the release of his new album. Apologies for the delay, just imagine this is May and the weather is a little less clement.


020: Hello Moto (reason for this embarrassingly lame gag coming up later)

Paul: Are you sure you’re talking to the right Paul?


020: Dokey Oakey…Where are you right now?

Paul:You’ve got a lot of nicknames for me, don’t you? I’m on my way out to Europe for some shows I’m doing to support the album.


020: How was that recent tour of China, then?

Paul: It was very good. I always enjoy my time in China and the club scene there is really holding it’s own. I’ve been playing a lot of new material recently and I was very excited to have the clubbers from this region get their ears on it and give me some feedback.


020: You’ve toured extensively through China over the last decade, any particular reason why it gets so much Oakenfold?

Paul: I feel that touring in China is a must for several reasons. First, it’s a very exciting country and the youth culture there is very in tune with what’s going on in the scene and I consider them a very valuable audience. Also, I’m quite fascinated with China and the history there. I’ve played on the Great Wall there and that was an inspirational experience for me. So, I do enjoy both working there and spending some down time.

020: Your next single is released over here on May 29th, tell us a little bit about it…

Paul: The first single is called “Faster Kill Pussycat” and it features Brittany Murphy, who laid down a fantastic vocal for the track. I’m very pleased with the way that it turned out and the response has been great. We’ve had a handful of really strong remixes done and those seem to have gone over well at the clubs.

020: Are you concerned that, despite it being a thumping summer anthem, some people might immediately think to themselves, “errr…Deep Dish Flashdance”…or are you just sticking to an undoubtedly winning formula?

Paul: I went with the sound that I did because I feel that it’s a strong, cutting-edge bassline that worked tremendously with Brittany’s vocal. Most of the time when you ‘re going for a big anthem people are going to say, “it sounds like this song or it sounds like that song” and the bottom line is that this track has a uniqueness all it’s own, as does “Flashdance” and numerous other big tracks that may have something similar to them musically.


020: And the title had nothing to do with the Russ Meyer movie Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!?

Paul: It didn’t actually. Someone brought this to my attention shortly after we gave the track a title and it was new information to me. As I said earlier, so often you see ideas or songs or in this case, titles, getting slandered because they remind someone of something else, or another song or another film had a similar title. Each has it’s own identity. It is said that there are only seven basic plotlines to a story so if you think about that one, there’s bound to be some similarity in the world of entertainment.


020: This is your 18th album but it still took three years to produce. Why was this? And secondly, will you Save The Last Trance For Me?

Paul: Well, in that three year period I was also working on numerous other projects. I worked on a couple of films, I released a few mix albums so I had a lot going on, on top of developing the album and making songs that worked. I don’t believe in putting something out because it’s been a while or because people are expecting you to. I put it out when it feels right and it took several years and a lot of hard work for me to get to feel that way.


020: A quick question about commercials. Over the last few years you’ve been linked to Coca Cola, Toyota, (Hello) Motorola and Saab – do you make it a rule to only support products that have more vowels in their name than yours?

Paul: No, it’s just turned out that way. I’ve been fortunate to have my music placed in a handful of successful commercials but the vowels are just a coincidence.


020: Do you drive a Saab or a Toyota?

Paul: Not currently


020: Now for the ‘obligatory football-related questions’. You are a Chelsea fan, are you not?

Paul: Huge


020: How often do you go to the games?

Paul: Whenever possible. I try to go to at least one a year. It’s a lot tougher to attend when you live abroad. I watch every game on the satellite at home so I keep up with it very well. I now use Tivo like mad! Whenever I’m on the road I just Tivo the games and watch them as soon as I return home.


020: Are ALL DJs Chelsea fans? It seems each one I talk to is a supporter of the Blues….

Paul: If they’re not, they should be.


020: So, England’s chances in the World Cup?

Paul: They have all the tools, they just need to execute and play their game and I believe that they will do extremely well.


[You were so close when you said ‘tools’, Paul]


020: Should there be a DJ World Cup? And would the final always be between England and Holland?

Paul: That could get ugly… Probably a lot of red cards thrown at that one. I’m sorry but I need to head off to catch a flight. I may have missed it for this interview…


And that, as they say, is where the line went dead.

So there you have it. The concise Paul Oakenfold. Is he the Paul Oakenfold that can tell the odd, interesting story even if they sound slightly scripted and PR-produced? Is he the Paul Oakenfold that is probably better at mixing than producing ground-breaking original music of his own? Is he the Paul Oakenfold that seems choked for a sense of humour? Or is he the Paul Oakenfold that is just desperately late for a flight? I’ll leave that one with you.