Get the funk, Get the funk, Get the funk...

I'm not a funkman, but things got pretty funky at the Central Station in Darmstadt last Friday night.

Maceo Parker brought his band to town. They played their guts out for three whole hours. More than five pieces could have been played, but funk jammin was never gonna result in three-minute hits.

The crowd of a couple of hundred jiggled about like crazy. One skinny wild white girl in front of us was so funky, she was dangerous. Her elbows were everywhere. People around her exchanged furious glares. Sure, the music was electrifyin', but the German crowd still had a sense of decorum and general respect for a modicum of personal space was upheld.

Reared in the mosh pits of Nottingham, I personally wouldn't have minded a bit more jostling, if not good honest barging in the crowd. At least then, everyone would get a spell right up front, centre.

The music had a great syncopation and rawness to it. The drums and bass sounded awesome - and the rest of the sound was CD quality too. My only gripe was that the keyboards were virtually inaudible to me. Granted, it's a rhythm/backing instrument, but so too the guitar and that was belting out like a ballistic squawking seagull. And rhythm is what this music is all about.

Maceo played some mega slick flourishes on his gleaming sax and the other brass, trombone and trumpet, whipped some wild riffs out of the box too.

It took me a while to really get into it and 'feel' the music, even though I enjoyed the whole concert. There was no support act and this didn't help. Even an appalling support act can really get you in the mood for the real thing. And standing right near the front, meant that access to the bar was limited. Don't get me wrong, I don't need to be wasted to enjoy music, but a certain level of alcohol can certainly lubricate the nerves connecting ear-brain-soul.

The bands presentation was immaculate, suits and all. And they rotated nicely during the set, giving each member alternately a chance to shine and a chance to ooze backstage. Their presentation was reassuring, but I didn't need the music to be that immaculate too.

Things never got dirty or outta control. In fact all the funky choruses of 'We love you' started to piss me off. Repetition of simple phrases was the order of the day rather than poetic lyricism.

Maceo, may have tuned his funk to such perfection, that it's just lost its rawness and dirty vibe. But who am I to say; I'm not a funkman.

Potty about Potter

JK Rowling is obviously potty about Potter, and fair play to her.

I've never read a Harry Potter book, or seen a Harry Potter film, and never plan to either. So my immediate reaction to the news that Rowling is suing superfan SV Ark for publishing a Harry Potter Lexicon in print was - so what?

OK - Rowling wants to publish her own HP Lexicon. So what? Surely fans will still prefer a lexicon from the original author than some geek. Maybe, Rowling really is worried that her lexicon might turn out to be less authoritative than Ark's. Once, she even confessed to occasionally using his online encyclopedia as a reference.

And with £500 million plus in her bank, how could she possibly be worried about Ark's book hurting her sales. Does it come down to principle then? Certainly, Rowling has conjured this card out of the hat too.

Both author's have been in tears over this, so the dispute must be about more than money.

Why shouldn't a fan, get obsessive about some other person's work, and then be allowed to publish a useful reference guide about it? Beats me. I would be flattered.

A smidgen of jealousy might have coloured my view regarding one of the world's most successful living authors, but I feel somewhat validated by the judge's legal perspective. U.S. District Judge Robert Patterson Jr. called the so-called 'world' Rowling had created 'gibberish'. And he probably had to read some of her stuff.

Why is everyone in the real-world potty about Potter apart from me and U.S. District Judge Robert Patterson Jr.?

---

Picture: 'Rappi Notter' the Ukrainian translation of Harry Potter. Sounds better, don't you think - kind of sordid.

Germany's X-Factor

Germany's X-Factor is called 'Deutschland sucht den Superstar' or DSDS for short.

I've been hooked on it for some time now. It's much more entertaining than the UK equivalent.

For a start, the regional selection round found every madman/woman and his/her dog wailing in their bid for super pop stardom. The characters were so outlandish it was hilarious. My favourite, was the guy who looked like a cross between Captain Spock and a bosseyed Yoda. He wore his best shirt for the audition, a bright orange Hawaiian beauty, and murmured the most ridiculous ditty.

Whereas Simon Cowell would have stomped off in a rage, Dieter Bohlen (pronounced 'Bullen'), the German equivalent, chuckled along with the million-plus viewers.

Sure, Bohlen also looks like a sour grape, but he is infinitely more likeable than the arsey Cowell. His comments are succinct and he is often very funny with it too.

Now into the finals, Bohlen is really giving the final 8 or so competitors what for. Last week he lifted another humdinger of a critique out of the can. One which had my English mates tickled once I'd translated. One of the girls sang a bland rendition of some pop song - the details are irrelevant and Bohlen said:

'Your performance was... dildoesque.' He went on to explain: 'Yes, technically perfect, but lacking all emotion.'

The entertainment value of this show is clear, my Enlgish mates hardly understand a word of German, but they lapped it all up with as much relish as the Bier.

Picture: Mario Teusch - hopeful from the first Casting Show