As has happened on most of my travels, I’ve been exploring the drinking culture of this amazing Caribbean island. It’s got its fair share of history and social upheaval but, in my mind, that just adds to the rich tapestry surrounding the booze.

Rum and beer are the main things here, with most bars stocking a couple of beers and only the spirits needed to make classic rum cocktails and little else. Everything here is much more relaxed and stripped down than anywhere else I’ve been.

All beers are lagers and because a few popular classic cocktails can trace an early heritage back here, the cocktails tend to be much less complex than back home. While British and American bartenders have been perfecting recipes and methods, Cuban bartenders have carried on doing things the way they’ve been doing them for decades.

Mojitos are thrown together simply and quickly and most of the other drinks are tossed into a blender with ice, then doled out. If your Spanish is good enough, you can order a mojito the way we’re used to them – leaves picked from the stalk, lime wedges dropped in and crushed ice rather than cubes, but the bartender will look at you like you’ve asked for a beer in a shoe (it’s a little known fact that leather shoes add some much needed depth to less full flavoured beers).

It’s great to be able to see how far these cocktails have come in the decades since they were first popularised and equally as good to experience them in their more relaxed incarnations. Obviously as the UK’s Best Bar and Best Goodtime Bar we are still mixing well.

Having said that, it’s gonna be freekin’ awesome to get a Manhattan in me when we get home.

As the musical tectonic plates shift and everyone gets their music from different sources, it gets harder to find the truly unifying songs that have the whole bar wailing together in exhalent song. From this list only ‘If You Wanna’ by The Vaccines of the music out this year has had the whole place pogoing. We have found these tracks by drunken Shazam, Radio, Adverts, recommendations or by Accident.

As last year this is a list of tunes that have made it on to our playlists over this last 12 months. They may not be ‘new’ but they have become our standards in 2011. Last year it was a list from Manchester only. For this year’s list I have asked the people who do the music most in both Leeds and Liverpool to send me a bunch of tunes as well. By dint of being mentioned on all 3 lists I can reveal that the unofficial Mojo tune of the year is…….

The Hollies – Long Cool Woman (In a Black Dress)

……This was brought in by Richie West on Shazam and he has no idea from where or when!

Keep listening and drinking (in the bars and at www.radiomojo.co.uk) and may we wish you all, a Happy Christmas and a wonderful new year.

Tame Impala – Half Full Glass Of Wine

White Denim – Back at the Farm

Shake, Shake, Shake

Metronomy –   The Look

The Bay

Tune-Yards –   Bizness

My Morning Jacket – Holding On To Black Metal

Small Faces – Ogden’s Nut Gone Flake

The Black Keys – Next Girl

Johnny Cash – I’ve Been Everywhere

Talking Heads – Girlfriend is Better

Nothing But Flowers

The Rolling Stones – Pass the Wine (Sophia Loren)

-  Slave

The James Gang – Walk Away

Funk 49

Django Django – Storm

Led Zeppelin – D’Yer Maker

Paul Simon – Late In the Evening

Credence Clearwater Revival – Pagan Baby

Ben Harper – Get It like You Like It

George Harrison – Got My Mind Set On You

Wah Wah

Genesis – I Know What I Like

Ken Boothe – Is It Because I’m Black

The Vaccines – If You Wanna

Corb Lund – Hair in My Eyes Like A Highland Steer

Grinderman – Palaces Of Montezuma

Sister Nancy – Bam Bam

Toots & The Maytals – Take me Home, Country Roads

Symarip – Skinhead Moonstomp

LCD Soundsystem – North American Scum

Two Door Cinema Club  – What You Know

Prince – 7

The Who – I’m Free

The Horrors – Still Life

Band Of Skulls – Patterns

I Know What I Am

Pete Townsend – Let My Love Open The Door

Tom Tom Club – Genius Of Love

ELO – Evil Woman

The Heavy – How You Like Me Now

Black Crowes – Another Roadside Tragedy

Cursed Diamond

Broken Bells – The Ghost Inside

Eddie Bo – Check Your Bucket

Band Of Horses – Is There A Ghost.

Having seen Mark Knopfler at this very venue a few years ago, I knew better than to expect an out-of-your-seat singalong affair. Mark Knopfler doesn’t do Greatest Hits tours. In fact, he has gone on record as saying he didn’t like all the fame and fortune associated with the material he’s most famous for, hits like Money For Nothing and Walk Of Life. So instead we sat back with a pint and prepared to watch in awe as ‘The Knopf’ and his band (numbering seven ridiculously talented multi-instrumentalists) gave a lesson in musical excellence. The fact that it was 4 songs into his “support act” set before I actually recognised a tune speaks volumes about just how good this bunch of balding, middle-aged musicians are. We were dumbstruck as they continued to switch between instruments (some of which we had never even seen before!) and played songs that can only be described as epic! Upon telling us that he was out of time, and that the “main man” would be waiting, they struck up the opening chords to Brothers In Arms, sending a collective chill down the spine of everyone in the Arena. To finish proceedings on a high he then plucked his way into So Far Away. And that was that, Mark Knopfler, brilliant as ever.

And so on to Bob Dylan. Brought on to stage by an over excitable announcer, sounding somewhat like he was introducing a heavyweight prize fighter, with a very brief account of Mr Dylan’s life, including a cheeky reference to him spending the majority of the 70’s and 80’s in a narcotic haze, and finishing with “The Poet Laureate of Rock ‘n’ Roll!!!” out onto the stage burst Bob Dylan and his band. Dressed in his trademark wide brimmed hat and bootlace tie he took up position behind the organ, shaking his hips and thrashing the keys in a fashion that defied his 70 years. That unmistakable rasping voice, even more growly than ever, barking his way through Leopard Skin Pill Box Hat, Don’t Think Twice It’s All Right and Things Have Changed. The up-tempo set kept even the most ancient of fans on their feet! The lady sat next to me must have been mid to late 60’s and she was there with her mother (true story)! Barely using his guitar, Dylan instead chose to captivate from behind the keys and occasionally standing centre stage with the microphone, intermittently blasting out incredible harmonica solos. What a performance! But then he’s probably had more practice than most! Running through more hits, like Tangled Up In Blue, Simple Twist Of Fate and a rousing version of Thunder On The Mountain, we were hooked. In what felt like 5 minutes, Bob Dylan and his (amazing) band had zipped through twelve songs and they were gone. The baying crowd, most way past their bedtime, whistled, clapped, whooped and cried out for more. And we weren’t disappointed. Like A Rolling Stone and All Along The Watchtower capped off an impressive display from a man well into his 71^st year.

And so I can cross off another name from the list of ageing rock stars I need to see before I die. Or, indeed, before they do.

I’d like to direct this month’s piece, however, to a much rarer group of customer than our usual funsters. I call them ‘part-time drinkers’. Now, I don’t mean people who aren’t constantly pissed (because I’m told by my GP that it’s good to lay off the booze every few hours… or something like that). No, I mean people who don’t often spend time in city centre bars. They usually go to their local pub or out to a restaurant but once in a while, a few times a year, (often on bank holidays) they venture into the city for one big night out. And they seem to be very confused by what they find.

The vast array of booze and brews in your city centre bar are to the part-time drinker as headlights are to a rabbit. They enter the bar in good spirits, chatting and laughing. Then they catch sight of the well stocked back-bar or the dozens of taps. Their conversation stops suddenly. The group huddles tightly together a few feet from the bar, ignoring the bartender’s greeting, whispering to one another…
“What do they do here?”
“What are you having?”
“What the hell is that stuff?”

I’d like to take this moment to shout to you huddled masses “Don’t be afraid! You can direct your questions to me! I’m here to help you!”

We bartenders want to make sure you guys get a drink you’ll like. Just a quick chat and we can give you some concoction or other that’ll hit the spot. Don’t see your usual poison? Well, we can recommend something similar. As much as we want our bars to make a profit, we’re not going to use fancy bartender mind tricks to force you to buy the most expensive whiskey in the house. In fact, if you’re very nice, we, your generous hosts, might let you try something before you’ve even handed over any of your hard earned cash.

So please, next time you’re in a weird bar in a strange city, don’t be scared to ask that freak of a bartender for some help.

I say this because I was taught from a young age that you can judge someone’s character by the way they treat service staff. Let’s say there’s someone at work who’s so nice, you go out together, and then they’re rude to every waiter and bartender in every place you go. You’d assume they’re probably not really a very nice person; that all the pleasantries towards co-workers are an act and that deep down they’re a rotter. By the same token, most movie characters are pricks because they just walk up to a bar, bark an order and expect the drink to appear while their back is turned. That’s the full extent of their interaction with the person working. No waiting their turn, no please or thank you, not even any eye contact. Just an order, after which the drink plucked from the ether, and produced almost instantly.

This seems really strange to me because of how jarring it can be. We can have a hero who is a shining beacon of hope, bravery and compassion and they’re being an ignorant arse to someone just because that person is in a uniform or behind a bar. I get that the writer doesn’t want to waste screen time with a wait at the bar or a polite back and forth with the bartender, but that’s no need to make your hero rude. Just a “please”, that’s all I ask Mr Writer…please?

I know this seems like a small thing but it gets frustrating when people emulate this behaviour. Someone who doesn’t go out to cocktail bars that often sees our hero curtly demand his drink and they think that’s just how it’s done. And as an added bonus there’s the annoyance of the customer when their martini takes slightly longer to make than the nanosecond promised by our hero’s lightning fast booze dispensing automatons.

I don’t expect you to die Mr Bond, just say please.

The temptation, for me, will be to spout venom about every little thing that annoys me in the industry, so I promise to try my best to stay positive and constructive (at least for one month).

I’ve been asked by a few people how I feel about a new bar opening down the road, whether we worry about the competition or if there’s any animosity towards the guys for leaving to start a new bar so close. My response to these questions have been “super excited”, “no” and “no” respectively.

One of the things I love about this kind of work is the sense of community and friendship you get between bars and bartenders. We’ve all got the same gripes but we all love what we do, and what we do is hang out in bars… all the time. And now we have one more!

I only have brief, traumatic experiences of jobs other than bartending, but I’m pretty safe in assuming that two competing offices won’t lend each other toner or paper if one runs out, and a florist won’t lend flowers to one down the road if they sell out. Bars, however, are more than happy to dole out ice to a competitor two doors up or lend out a bottle of whisky until delivery day. This is because, in most areas, bartenders drink in each others places, become friends and you help out your mates. A more pragmatic view is that a bar without ice is a shoddy bar, and a shoddy bar on our street makes us all look bad. So it’s in all our best interests to help each other out.

The main reason everyone’s so happy about Lee and Andy opening their place is simply that they’re great guys and it’s gonna be a great bar. Plus, I don’t have to work with those pricks anymore.

The age of digitalism has well and truly arrived. Is it even possible for a bar to sell out? To become so overly commercial that all sense of quality and integrity are subsided in a sea of desperate offers and event updates. Does ‘word of mouth’ even exist anymore? Discovering a place simply by clicking ‘like’, rather than being led to a friends favourite watering hole somewhere off the beaten track kinda takes some of the magic away. Then there are some bars that go to great lengths to remain elusive and having a venue where you can only gain access if you have a golden ticket and wear the right coloured hat could be considered too much secrecy. I’ll leave you to decide where the balance should be.

If you do have a spare minute though you should join my new social network, it’s called FACE SPLICE. You literally copy your face and email it to others so that they can wear it. Imagine an army of ‘me’ marching down on the government just like in V for Vendetta, demanding compulsory tipping for those in the service industry, glorious.

A pal of mine hosted a tasting where you drank the same martini whilst first holding a piece of silk in your hand, then again whilst holding a piece of velvet. The two drinks tasted different or at the very least had a different feel. This of course could be due to the convincing running commentary provided by the drinks expert, but don’t knock it, he was onto something there.

Here at MOJO we have been subconsciously pairing drinks since we played the very first song. Tracy Chapman’s “Gimme One Reason”, a most haunting tune that sailed our ship real good. We stood nervously and excited as our old pal Skip purchased the very first round – beers for all of us yey! I believe he still has the receipt. As the volume kicked up and the beers flowed chilled from our shiny new fridges which we were so proud of, not to mention relieved to have finally received via a slow boat from Milwaukee USA. The tune sent shivers down our spines; combined with the icy cold brews, the effect was amazing.

Music and drink must be the oldest and best pairing you could ever have. If you’re going to dance your buns off in a Latino Salsa Club then a long cool refreshing Mojito is going to be perfect. Listening to some chilled jazz whist sitting in a leather armchair probably calls for something much stiffer like straight Rum or a Cognac with a big fat cigar, no? AC/DC or the Stones live in a stadium makes me think of dozens of cold pints of weak lager in plastic glasses.

Back in the bar environment, rum punch tastes just perfect if it’s a red hot day and we’ve got some chilled reggae on. Much, much later on, Pina Colada matched with a group of mates all singing “If you like Pina Coladas” at full tilt along to Rupert Holmes would feel amazing.

The trick here is to get these things the right way round.

Here’s a tip for those who find themselves getting thrown out of bars early doors wondering why? If you are drinking at 7PM like its 3AM in the morning you are probably exercising an “inappropriate application of alcohol”.

As bartenders need to read their customers perhaps those special early doors guests could read their bars better.  Or in other words fit in and please don’t spoil it for others!

Stay Whet

Mal Evans

I don’t know when the balance shifted, when every Limo became nothing but a host to raging estrogen; windows wound down only to deliver abuse (or vomit in once case I’ve seen) at unsuspecting passers by. Have i just been living a sheltered life? Unaware of the growing amount of pink Limo’s and themed outfits decorating our streets like an art attack gone tragically wrong. Believe me ladies, i’m not championing Stag Do’s either, it just feels like the rays of Venus are particularly strong recently and if chivalry is dead then the essence of elegance and dignity are fortified.

Celebration in itself is somewhat of a grey area, does everyone automatically get a ‘get-out- of-what-society-considers-appropriate-behaviour free card’? And if so, I need bigger cards! We must be capable of having these interactions without going off the rails surely? I go on my first Stag do in August so i’ll let you know. The theme is ‘famous dictators’ and mini-golf, what could go wrong?

Which brings us to Sufjan Stevens at The Apollo?

I am an avowed fan, sucked in by his second US States album, ‘Come on Feel the Illinoise’. I bought backwards from there and loved it all. The simple folk of Seven Swans to the complex arrangements and Trombone parping majesty of the aforementioned Illinoise. There is a lot of Banjo on those albums.

Then the announcement of a new album and, a new direction. New album, Age of Adz, has been well reviewed but I was put off enough not to commit to a purchase. As I approached the theatre I am ashamed to admit that a kernel of worry was tapping away at my insides. ‘He won’t play toooo much new stuff. Will he?’

First to say, when does a Gig become a show? Metronomy above a pub in Wakefield, Gig.

Stevens opens in near darkness, with Seven Swans. Tender in the verses it explodes in to life in the first Chorus when the other 10 band members come in. The lights blaze the stage to life and Stevens is revealed, Banjo in hand, he then unfurls a giant set of Swans Wings. Show!!

First foray into Age of Adz is track 2, Too Much. It is not a complete u turn stylistically. It is recognisably Stevens, Cacophonous arrangement and clever melody but tied together not by a folk framework but by playful industrial beats. Allied to a near 3D light/Laser show (don’t laugh), I now know that we are in safe hands.

Stevens seems to be aware that his new direction and these songs of ‘Love, Death, Apocalypse and Space’ could be hard to take, they are not. So after another dose of beats he insists on ‘Clearing the air with folk’ which he does every 2 or 3 songs and to stunning affect firstly with a rendering of REM’s The One I Love with just voice and Guitar.

The whole show is a confection of light, sound and an arresting video art show using schizophrenic US artist Royal Robertson as a launching pad. Bringing his static, paranoid, comic style canvases into living, breathing dancing life. This all comes to a true maelstrom of a climax with album closer, Impossible Soul. 25 minutes on record, it is slightly truncated here. To describe, imagine taking Acid, then being blindfolded. When you reach the point of ‘trip’, the blind fold is removed and the room has been entirely covered in a soup of acrylic paint. Every colour. All the while, the song plays. Mesmeric.

When the encore comes and we finally get what we want, we are no longer aware that we want it. This makes the balloon and confetti jet adorned closing run through Chicago a miraculous second high.

So definitely a show, and close to being the show of a lifetime.