Issue 27
may 2007
�The same energy that drives my paranoia, drives my imagination as a whole, making the worst and best of me. Deep down there is a high. A high that recognises the quintessential beauty of the world, outside the annoying details. Stand back, look at the form/shapes, the basic, general, more ESSENTIAL REALITY, outside all the shit, the bullying, the work pressures, the standards that people judge you by.� - Andrew Willshaw
Many thanks to Andrew for allowing me to quote the above from one of his brilliant letters. No apologies for this month�s cover star. There�s nothing �cool� about mass murder, but if a kid is bullied long enough, made to feel alienated, treated like shit AND has easy access to firearms, WHAT DO YOU FUCKING EXPECT? Welcome, one and all, to your monthly fix of Hiroshima Yeah!, an easy-listening soft-jazz soundtrack of bittersweet regret, only in zine form. Written by Mark Ritchie and Gary Simmons, this is the publication BY and FOR obsessive-compulsive alcoholics and hypo-manic gender-benders everywhere. Check out the new, improved website at www.geocities.com/sniperglue
"You cannot be a good writer of serious fiction if you are not depressed." - Kurt Vonnegut
CIDER JIMMY
He's been coming here
ever since his wife died.
He eats dinner upstairs in the lounge
before coming down to the bar,
where he drinks pints of cider
until closing time
(although he favours Guinness in the winter).
In a few short months,
he has become part of the place,
watching the faces come and go,
joking with the barmaids,
witnessing all this life being lived.
Surely it's better than an empty house,
a big, cold bed
and a stove that no longer burns brightly
with the glow of love?
LOST, FALLING
We are all lost,
swimming through our lives,
half drowned,
kept afloat only
by some vague notion
that dry land may soon
be in sight.
We are all falling,
tumbling through cold, dead air,
frozen statues,
pigeons fighting over crumbs.
THE BLEAKNESS IN EVERYTHING
there is a bleakness in everything -
in this picnic table,
in this barbed wire fence,
in the buzzing insects that circle our softness
like spies from hell.
others may catch a glimpse
of the bleakness and look away
but some of us are not so fortunate -
we recognise it in everything,
everywhere we go.
it's there in the chattering birdsong
and the long, waving grass,
it's there in the shimmer and haze
of the hot tarmac
and in the burnt-out cars littering
the lay-bys.
and, of course, it's there in the shadows
with the spiders and the dusty dreams
we only meant to store away for a little while
but that end up forgotten,
decayed,
like a child we once knew,
jumping off a roof,
thinking he could fly.
SUNDAY NIGHT SYNDROME
He wasn�t sure if it was all the newspapers he read
or the depressing soap opera he watched
or simply the fact that another week had passed,
but he always felt a great sadness overtake him on Sunday nights.
It was worse in winter,
when the shadows would begin to form claustrophobic shapes
even before dinnertime
and the cold wind blew mercilessly through the gaps in the door and window frames.
Sitting in his armchair, surrounded by dirty dishes
and half-read newspapers,
he would stare blankly at the television screen,
worrying about something or other.
Usually something over which he had no control.
13.7 BILLION YEARS OF HELL
Selected Dispatches from an Unwilling Player of Gods� Little Game
By Gary Simmons
Had a wank �over� my Bukkake print-outs, but discharged �over� some pic of a bikinied underage chick in a �Haven� holiday brochure. Swallowed my yellowing pus-like wad and tried to get some more kip. Couldn�t kip so I�m gonna make tea. You couldn�t get more British than THIS, surely?
ETHICAL QUESTION! : If a man has a mental age of 14, is he a �paedophile� to have a romantic relationship with a girl of 13?
PHYSICS QUESTION! : Re: �Batman� movie; �You see this guy fly up in the sky, thought to myself, 'Why shouldn't I?'� Procol Harum
CHEMISTRY QUESTION! : Are our moods and emotions �simply� the amount and nature of certain chemicals within the brain?
SCIENCE QUESTION! : How can ANYTHING exist at all? By all counts there should be NOTHING. No light and dark, no hot and cold, no empty and full, no near and distant� NOTHING. What YOU remember of 1707AD. What YOU dreamt under general anaesthetic. What there, figuratively, is when your four walls and ceiling and floor close up and finally meet. Or can matter always be cut in half forever? Infinity inwards as well as outwards? What shall I have for breakfast this morning? Cereal? �Friendly crusty bread�? Whitehouse. A banana? Schoolgirl sex?
NOTEABLE PAEDOPHILIA IN �70s MUSIC
1. CLAIR � GILBERT O�SULLIVAN (completely written out of history, so it�s �worse� than �God Save the Queen�!)
2. HELLO SUSAN (?) � BANGED-UP LAWYER IN �THE GREAT ROCK�N�ROLL SWINDLE�
3. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEET 16 � NEIL SEDAKA
4. PRETTY MUCH EVERYTHING BY GARY GLITTER!
5. SOUNDTRACK ALBUM OF �MONTY PYTHON AND THE HOLY GRAIL�
6. JAILBAIT � MOTORHEAD
7. SCHOOL GIRLS IN MICHAEL PALIN�S �RIPPING YARNS� (OK, it�s not music, but so fuckin� WHAT? I�m TRYING to make a point here!)
8. LOU REED�S �WALK ON THE WILD SIDE� �DANCED TO� BY HOT GOSSIP (?) ON THE KENNY EVERETT SHOW
9. NOT-CAT WOMAN A�NAKED IN �THE GREAT ROCK�N�ROLL SWINDLE�
10. SUMMER THE FIRST TIME � BOBBY GOLDSBOROUGH
GEROGARYGAYGAYGAY�S �I�M PREGNANT AND LIVING IN A TENT� WILL I GIVE BIRTH IN A CAR PARK?� PLAY-LIST
SWEET ADDICTION � 4 TRACK DEMO TAPE. Cassette, it be (Survival Record�s desperate attempt to replace the signed-to-EMI Quireboys and also save some dough by trying to wriggle-out of paying me for my dodgy logo designs! Dunno if any of you have ever been exposed to this idea; You do WORK, you get PAID? Wow, the groundbreaking CONCEPT of it all! �Stumblin� On� is a nice song. Survival. 1990)
TABULA RASA - 2� ANIVERSARIO 10/JULIO/99. Cassette (Tabula Rasa noise-bar master Tony Fernandez�s compilation tape for the bar�s 2nd anniversary �celebrations�. Alas, the T.R. bar is history now. Tabula Rasa-Centro de Ruido. 1999)
SIOUXSIE AND THE BANSHEES � ONCE UPON A TIME �THE SINGLES�. Cassette (all the old faves at an ultra-fair price, courtesy of a second-to-none mail-order service from the infallible Stream Angel, bless �im. Polydor. 1981)
SMELL AND QUIM � THE ENGLISH METHOD. Cassette (classic audio BUMFUCKERY from Yorkshire�s Srdenovic and Nonnen! Self-released. 199?)
SMELL AND QUIM � NATIVITY COLOSTOMY (ANUS HORRIBLIS). Cassette (comes with P400 grade wet�n�dry plus 7� of black rubber strip. USEFUL! Old Europa Caf�. 199?)
SMELL AND QUIM � SPERMATHLON. Cassette (contains one used-for-something green dunkie� �FUCK my ass, oh, YEAH!!� Bandaged Hand Produce. 199?)
SMELL AND QUIM � CHARIOT OF THE CODS. Cassette (contains a real piece of STINKING fish which reminds me, I�ve ALSO got a 23 year-old piece of mummified MEAT from W.A.S.P. at the Lyceum on 24.9.1984 and �documentary evidence� via drunken after-gig photo-booth MAYHEM! And those Stinky Horse Fuck drawings would�ve made for a really GREAT T-shirt, y�know? Stinky Horse Fuck. 199?)
SMELL AND QUIM � STEPHEN HAWKING�S BUTT-PLUG. LP (Giardia. 1999)
SONIC YOUTH � S/T. 12� (I used to have Sonic Youth written on my leather, back in the Sound and Vision pub days of the mid-80s� All the CUNTS thought it was MUSICAL YOUTH, fuckin� PRATS! Zensor. 1982)
SONIC YOUTH � CONFUSION IS SEX. LP (Contains the pretty much unsurpassable tracks �Protect Me You�, �Inhuman�, the Stooges� �I Wanna Be Your Dog� and more. Absolutely fuckin� AWESOME! I�ve been trying, for 23 YEARS, to get hold of a �Confusion Is Sex� bondage-drawing T-shirt, as worn by Time magazine�s 24th October 1983 cover �star�. Can you POSSIBLY help us?! Zensor. 1983)
MUSIC
TALK TALK - LAUGHING STOCK (VERVE)
Used to have this when I lived in The Attic From Hell (from 1998-2002) and sold it to my cunt neighbour for a tenner in order to buy cider (just goes to show that people can have good taste in music and STILL be CUNTS). This has been available on posh import for a while now but THIS copy was only �3.99 from Lost in Music. This is NOT the poppy, synth-fellating Talk Talk you may remember from wasted Saturday mornings spent watching 'Multicoloured Swap Shop'. No, THIS is meditative, lovely, late-night lonely, achey-breaky BEAUTIFUL Talk Talk, continuing their quest to get as FAR AWAY from pop music as humanly POSSIBLE. See my review of the LP they put out before this, 'Spirit of Eden' (HY! issue 16), if you need further clues. THIS record is EVEN BETTER, though, containing as it does six tracks of quiet wonder and contemplation that will ease you through many a tortured night. BELIEVE ME. �After the Flood� even has a NOISE SOLO for all you noise-obsessors out there. What MORE do you WANT?!
THE SMITHEREENS - BLOW UP (CAPITOL)
The Smithereens� �Behind the Wall of Sleep� is one of my favourite singles of all time, yet I�ve NEVER owned (or even HEARD) a full-length album by the band who made it. But all that changed when I saw this album for only �3.99. I HAD to have it, despite the naff cover, the fact that it�s named after one of the world�s most overrated films and the band photo, which makes them look like a bunch of cunty stockbrokers (except one guy, who looks like a mid �80s footballer in his stupid biker jacket and dreadful mullet). While there�s nothing here to rival �..Sleep�, there ARE good songs like �Get A Hold of My Heart�, �Girl in Room 12� and �Over and Over Again� to divert your attention from the fact that this life is FUCKING SHIT.
SWANS - VARIOUS FAILURES (YOUNG GOD)
Ever since Andrew played me �God Damn the Sun� in some rented house in Sheffield, I�ve had an on-off love affair with Swans. Bought a couple of their albums many years ago and LOVED the overblown drama of them. Sometimes, their stuff is SO overblown, it becomes RIDICULOUS and HILARIOUS. The aforementioned �God Damn..� being a PERFECT example. You can either listen to it and WEEP or PISS YOURSELF LAUGHING! It�s kind of Goth... but GOOD Goth, if such a thing is possible. Got this for a measly �3 from a charity shop (and, considering it�s a double disc containing 34 songs, that�s a GREAT price, I�m sure you, gorgeous reader, will agree). Thankfully, none of Swans� noisy shit is to be found on here, just many, many lovely songs like �Was He Ever Alive?�, �Blind�, �Dream Dream� and versions of songs by Nick Drake (a bizarre take on �Black Eyed Dog�), Steve Winwood and Joy Division. The cover art of murderous, sexy bunny rabbits is pretty great too.
SON VOLT � THE SEARCH (TRANSMIT SOUND/LEGACY)
What an APT title, as I had to perform a �search� of my OWN to find this new album by Jay Farrar�s legendary alt country outfit (even though he�s the only original member LEFT). Most shops didn�t have it, even days after it�s UK release, but luckily I found it for a cool tenner in Union Street�s Fopp (it was �2 dearer in their Byres Road branch, for some reason. All us West End cunts are SO fucking LOADED, don't ya know!?) Despite getting off to a slow start with, er, �Slow Hearse� (a very slight FRAGMENT rather than an actual SONG), it soon picks up pace with �The Picture� which has a certain theme-to-�Cagney-and-Lacey� vibe about it (it�s the saxophone that does it). Right on! Those crime fighting bitches ROCK! Next track, �Action�, has that mysterious feel of the East which Farrar seems so fond of these days and then we get the album�s first real contender for Best Song in the World Ever in �Underground Dream�, whose lyric �Guns or education, the answer�s larger than the Hollywood sign� harks back to early Farrar-penned Uncle Tupelo classic �Whiskey Bottle� (�Liquor and guns, the sign says quite plain/Somehow life goes on, in a place so insane�). This is followed by ANOTHER killer song, �Circadian Rhythm�, which utilises backwards guitar noises to great effect. The old Joanna is wheeled out for �Adrenaline and Heresy�, a gorgeous, crying-into-your-hanky lament (�She said I still love you/�I don�t know if I want to spend the rest of my life with you�) which ends with the swooping, grand coda �High on adrenaline, it�s a new day�. �Automatic Society� takes a Lennon-esque swipe at our glorious modern world (�Your life that you don�t own.../Facelift society�s soul�) but, but, BUT, �Methamphetamine� is absolutely THE most GORGEOUS thing here, and it�s no surprise that it�s the first track (of, alas, only two) featuring the awesome talents of Eric Heywood on pedal steel. That lilting chorus puts a lump in my throat EVERY time. Just BRILLIANT. Everybody knows you can�t �do� a REAL Americana album without songs about trains and cars and �L Train� and �Highways and Cigarettes� fit the bill nicely, the latter being another classy late-night driving song to add to Farrar�s, already considerable, collection. It has some lovely female backing vocals on it too. �Phosphate Skin� ends the album with the hopeful message that �the daily drag makes you stronger� and that things �can only get better from here.� Let�s HOPE so, eh? Without wishing to sound like a party pooper, though, a few tracks (namely, �Beacon Soul�, the title track and �Satellite�) are slightly samey, mid-paced rockers. That may be a bit of a harsh, over-critical fan-boy attitude but they just DON�T stand up alongside previous Son Volt thrillers like �Drown�, �Caryatid Easy�, �Medicine Hat� and �Bandages and Scars�. Mainly, though, this is a great album that I�ve been listening to a LOT.
MOUTHFUL OF GRASS � S/T (SELF-RELEASED) www.myspace.com/mouthfulofgrass
I know next to nothing about this CD except that it was handed to HY!�s London correspondent while he was doing some manly gardening (hope this was the ONLY �mouthful of grass� he ended up with� Ho ho!) and he, in turn, decided to send it to ME for a good old Scottish arse-whipping. Although I�ve never been a great fan of blues-inflected rock �n� roll, this is actually pretty decent and mostly manages to stay away from the po-faced Eric Clapton type shite I despise so much. In fact, much of this is not a million miles away from The Smithereens CD reviewed elsewhere. The Grass dismantle Johnny Cash�s �Folsom Prison Blues� and reassemble it as a slow-chugging blues juggernaut before taking an electric cattle prod to Robert Johnson�s SPOOKY �Crossroad Blues�, and their original songs sometimes stray over to Tom Petty�s side of the garden fence, but the best thing here is the Dylan-esque final track, �My Best Behaviour�. This is the sort of music that would sound GREAT after several drinks down at Rockers in Glasgow city centre (waitress service provided) and, judging by the photos of Mouthful of Grass on the cover of this, they�re JUST the kind of band who�d be likely to get a gig there!
VARIOUS � RECLAIM BEDLAM (SOUTHWARK MIND) www.southwarkmind.org.uk
Whatever happened to compilation tapes? In fact, whatever happened to tapes, full STOP? The closest I get these days are those given-away-free-with-monthly-music-mag-CDs which are a brilliant way of hearing new music without actually having to go to the trouble of listening to the radio (and, anyway, John Peel�s GONE, and who ELSE is playing anything new/interesting/decent these days?) This not-for-sale, limited-to-1100-copies-CD comp was given away with issue 100 of �Southwark Mind�, a monthly newsletter for �mental health service users/survivors�. There�s a wide diversity of stuff on offer here; electro-pop tributes to The Cure�s Robert Smith (�Manifesto� by Drink Me), reggae songs about police harassment and druuuugs (�Mother Nature� by Andy Barron and The Believers), songs about having sex with aliens (�Alien Girl� by Paulos) and H�sker D�-ish guitar-abuse (�Gotta Get Out of Here� by Very Special Guests). On the second half of the CD, the more �serious� half (it was compiled by two different people), Dave Kusworth does a passable John Lennon impression on a cover of that kitschy gem �Where Do You Go To My Lovely� and there are even a couple of tracks by PROPER legends, namely Jackie Leven�s �The Long Hard Field� (a lovely song in his usual Celtic roots rock style) and the late Nikki Sudden�s �Stay Bruised�, which closes the album in stirring, classic singer-songwriter style. Very nice.
DAKOTA SUITE � WAITING FOR THE DAWN TO CRAWL THROUGH AND TAKE AWAY YOUR LIFE (GLITTERHOUSE)
I thought Dakota Suite had gone the same way as Talk Talk�s Mark Hollis, capping off a career spent making records full of hushed beauty by becoming totally silent altogether. But, four or five years after their last disc, here they are again with another album full of lonely cellos and pedal steel (courtesy of ex-American Music Clubber Bruce Kaphan). Main man Chris Hooson hasn�t cheered up much, as you can probably guess from song titles like �All Your Hopes Gone Cold� and �Brittle With Sorrow� but what would a HAPPY Dakota Suite song actually SOUND like? Kurt Cobain sang of �the comfort in being sad� and to listen to Dakota Suite is to enjoy a good old WALLOW. It�s NICE but you wouldn�t want to do it ALL the time. This lush package also contains a wonderfully revealing DVD film, �Wintersong�, in which Hooson talks candidly about his depression, suicide attempt and the cathartic nature of songwriting. The clip where he�s seen singing a song to his young son about Smarties is really sweet and he comes across as a gentle, truly self-deprecating soul who admits that he can no longer face the turmoil of playing live. Indeed, on the two occasions that I saw Dakota Suite play, his off-mic screaming and shouting was genuinely worrying. He means it, maaan.
SUN KIL MOON � GHOSTS OF THE GREAT HIGHWAY (CALDO VERDE)
This is a two-disc �special edition� of the CLASSIC 2003 album from Mark Kozelek�s mopey San Franciscan lot. Yes, you no longer have to wait decades for your fave music idols to RIP YOU OFF by re-mastering and re-packaging their wares (with extra tracks, of COURSE) so that you essentially have to shell out TWICE for the SAME ALBUM. I�m a SUCKER, though, so I found this impossible to resist, with its six extra tracks. There�s a gorgeous instrumental called �Arrival� and not one but TWO versions of the Leonard Bernstein-penned �Somewhere� which very nearly matches Tom Waits� version for weepy, understated beauty.
DAN SUSNARA � BICUSPIDS (MUMBLE MUMBLE MUSIC) www.cropcirclecollective.com
This new release from Chicago singer-songwriter Dan Susnara (his first self-produced CD - all his previous albums were on cassette) kicks off with JUST the sort of song that�s GUARANTEED to get a good review in HY! - an ADORABLE, country-fied, acoustic, running-away-from-everything-and-drinking song called �Kiss �n� Park� which is instantly cherishable and singalongable and even brings to mind GG Allin with the lines �never thinkin� �bout tomorrow, always livin� for today, never makin� no commitments, always runnin��� Next up is �Disgruntled Former Everything�, a blistering attack on corporate America (and especially that moron Bush), and after that comes the swinging �Eurekahead� which has some nice brassy keyboard parps. �Wait for Someone Who Saves� is a lilting, lovely paen to a sad stranger in a bar and is the best song here (possibly Susnara�s best EVER). With great lines like �we collect like the dust and the spiderwebs crowding corners and eaves� and �scared of my shadow�s shadow�, the greatest compliment I can give this song is that I wish I�d written it myself. It�s a KILLER and (along with the first track) has been on �repeat� here a LOT. �Lennon� starts as a slow and sedate tribute to the great, crushed Beatle before descending into White Album style chaos and �While in Borneo� continues the theme by having weird, trippy lyrics that don�t appear to make any sense whatsoever. I like the stripped-down tinklings and oddness of this track. �Principles That Endure� quickens the pace somewhat with a bitter tale of anti-work angst (�fill my days with commitments and trite, meaningless drivel�) which should raise a smile, if not a sigh, with anyone who�s ever worked for �the man�. �Shift Change� is a funny/sad story about suburban kids and their teenage drug adventures while �Lost Every Day� updates their story from an adult perspective, in a smoky, jazzy number with some adventurous chord changes and instrumentation. The hilariously titled �Lo-Rent Boy� is a bit of a tragi-rocker which treats us to great lines like �I do the weird stuff the other guys won�t do� before sadly concluding that �it�s better than sleepin� alone�. �Resume� obliquely references a lost love affair and is sweetly plaintive in a resigned kind of way. �Strap on a Guitar (and Save the World)� intertwines the personal and the political in an epic, slowly building ballad which, again, throws down some impressive lyrics (�they�d gladly have us all attached dick-and-balls to computers/serving kings, weak, humbled, trite/�lest we start to think and start to fight�) and ends on a note of defiant optimism. Brilliant. This would have been a perfect end to the album, in fact, but there�s one last song and that song is �Done�, a nightmarish tale of some mad bitch who�s �howling with visions in a place of remote decay�. It should also be stated that this CD comes with a nice lyric booklet containing colour photos of various desolate US locations. Check out the website or, better still, send some dollars to Dan at 7806 S Kilpatrick, Chicago, IL 60652, USA to get yourself a copy.
BRIGHT EYES � CASSADAGA (POLYDOR)
Seems like every record shop and bar I went into was playing this album during the week in which it was released (including MacSorley�s, where I went for a couple of pints mere MINUTES after buying my copy. The pleasure of hearing it in such surroundings was only marred by some twat�s �Sweet Child o� Mine� ringtone going off during one of the more sensitive songs. If that had happened in the cinema or theatre, it would�ve been punishable by EXECUTION!) Frankly, I�m not surprised �cos this is a fucking BRILLIANT album, maybe even Conor Oberst�s finest yet. It certainly feels like his most mature (he�s now 27, so let�s hope he doesn�t go the same way as Cobain, Joplin, Hendrix, Jones and all those other dead-at-27-sters. Morrison doesn�t count. He was an ARSE). Gone are the eccentric, excitable vocal yelps of old and, in their place, is a more Dylan-esque phrasing to go with the Dylan-esque songs. The upbeat, wordy rush (few lyricists even come CLOSE to Oberst at his best) of �Four Winds�, �Hot Knives� and �I Must Belong Somewhere� are as addictive as crack while the swoonsome croon of �Make a Plan to Love Me� could become a lounge standard if performed by a Streisand or a Bennett. That is just one of many songs to be given the full technicolour string section treatment, which seems to be the latest thing amongst today�s indie rock glitterati (er, even though Bright Eyes are on Polydor now). And, of all the zillions of anti-war songs out there, �No One Would Riot for Less� is surely one of the loveliest, with its refrain of �So love me now/Hell is coming/Kiss my mouth/Hell is here�.
GRAND CHAMPEEN � DIAL T FOR THIS (IN MUSIC WE TRUST)
Woke at about 8am. Had coffee and a roll. I was still in my boxer shorts when Cat and Joe rang, to let me know they'd be in town later after visiting her dad in hospital. Joe said that JM got mugged the other week, outside the Star Bar, when he was waiting for his bus, looking at the gravestones (!) He had a black eye. I walked into town and posted a couple of things in the post office at Charing Cross. Saw the Latvian barmaid from the Horseshoe (who I called 'a miserable bitch' last night.. not to her FACE - I said it to James), who said hello and smiled at me, so that made me feel bad (and I was in a grumpy mood ANYWAY). Went into Waterstones for a bit. Read a piece in 'Q' about The Smiths but it didn't include anything NEW, really. Ate some chips down by the Clyde then met Grant in HMV, on his lunchbreak. We arranged to meet later in the week so he could give me some tapes (but, later, he texted to cancel, as he had some appointment or other). Went to Borders, where I read a Hold Steady article in 'Plan B'. At 1pm, I went to Black on Queen Street for a pint of Velvet ale. A couple of women were in on their lunchbreak, bitching about everyone in their office. I browsed the 2nd-hand section of Avalanche and spent �5.99 on this CD by Grand Champeen, who are a band Richmond Fontaine are always going on about. It's OK, really. Not amazing, but it might be a grower (the song 'Raul Vela' is REALLY good). Had some lunch sitting on a bench in George Square before it started to rain very slightly. At about 2.50pm, I was in Failt� , reading the Metro with a �1.50 pint of cider. Samuel texted saying he was nearby, at the opticians with some mate, and would pop in, but he never showed. Joe and Cat eventually DID, though, after texting me to ask where I was. They ended up staying till after 9pm and I had 7 pints of cider in all. Cat found a posh phone in the toilet and kept it and we all took photos of each other on her OWN phone. They'd been in Byres Road earlier and saw John, who'd been to pay his rent (about a week late). Said he looked terrible. Everyone was SO excited about all the GOALS being scored on the big screen football game but WE didn't care. They only left as they needed to buy a carry-out 'cos they had no booze in the flat. I finished my pint then got some veg samosas from Sainsbury's, got on the subway and was back in the flat at 10.07pm. Watched a great BBC1 documentary about The Carpenters then started doing a new tape for my walkman. Went to bed at about 12.40am.
JONI MITCHELL � DON JUAN�S RECKLESS DAUGHTER (ASYLUM)
Regular readers will know that me and Joni go back a long way. I think her late �60s/early �70s output is among some of the best music ever recorded, so it�s odd that I�ve been so reticent about exploring anything she released post-1976. Maybe it�s the fault of the weird-as-fuck �Mingus�, which I bought for someone�s birthday and played only once, or the synthed-up �80s crud of albums like �Dog Eat Dog�. Whatever the reason, I felt-the-fear-but-did-it-anyway and spent �5 on this 1977 album which someone reliably informed me �has some good stuff on it�. Which it DOES. In fact, apart from the God-awful world music shite of �The Tenth World�, this is a BRILLIANT album, not least the �Hejira� like title track, the 16 minute 21 seconds long �Paprika Plains� and the BEAUTIFUL closer �The Silky Veils of Ardor�.
VAN DER SAAR � SWEDISH SHEETS (DEATH BENEFITS) www.myspace.com/vandersar
If you look at the track titles here and the weird, funny, nonsensical sleeve-notes, you�d be forgiven for thinking that Allan Lewis (for he is Van Der Saar) was certifiably insane and/or on some GREAT drugs but, as far as I know, NEITHER is the case. It seems like there are a LOT of musicians who are of a similarly odd mindset (Mark E Smith, Robert Pollard and Will Johnson of Centro-Matic leap to mind). This none-more-black CD is the follow-up to �Your Friends Are Knives�, which was glowingly reviewed in a previous issue, and this one contains MORE lovely, low-key songs of faded heartache that seem to bear no relation to titles like �I Am Wing Machine', �Prog! Solo! Mess!� and �Junior Slumps, Pretend Jumps�. These nine songs are generally of the quietly strummed variety (bar the occasional noisy guitar outburst) and are all perfect for those lonely late night fumbles-in-the-dark when you don�t know whether to open another bottle or prepare the noose. That�s not to say they�re depressing � more CONSOLING. Especially the final song, which is beyond gorgeous.
GREAT LAKE SWIMMERS � ONGIARA (NETTWERK)
No shops in Glasgow seemed to have this, so I was �lucky� to find it in Fopp in Edinburgh.. NOT so lucky, though, to then see it in Avalanche (which is practically NEXT DOOR) for a quid LESS about five minutes later! TYPICAL! Despite this minor annoyance, however, this is a great addition to the first couple of albums by Great Lake Swimmers, who are the ideal soundtrack to those drifting-off-to-sleep-at-the-end-of-a-busy-day moments, as their music is enchanting, calming and mysterious, much like the nature of sleep itself. Banjos are plucked, pianos are caressed, pedal steels are ravished, glockenspiels are lovingly touched-up.. all lulling you into a deep, dark, beautiful land from which you may never return. As the Swimmers sang on a previous album, �sleep is the only way sometimes to live in a perfect world�.
MARK EITZEL � TEN YEARS OF TEARS (SELF-RELEASED)
Limited to 500 copies (mine is 397), this sold-at-gigs CD contains live recordings from the past ten years of Eitzel�s career (hence the title, which is ALSO the name of an Arab Strap release but THEY are SHIT). Bought for a very reasonable tenner from the man himself (see live review elsewhere), this disc contains many fine solo renderings as well as moments of full band magic on tracks performed with the Undertow Orchestra (a short-lived touring �super group� comprising Eitzel, Vic Chesnutt, Will Johnson of Centro-Matic/South San Gabriel and David Bazan of Pedro the Lion), the Magnificent Seven (with Peter �REM� Buck on guitar) and Eitzel�s own �60 Watt Silver Lining� and �Invisible Man� bands which rocked the world in 1996 and 2001 respectively. The songs are, of course, faultless, although it�s odd to see four cover versions here (by Joy Division, Phil Ochs, Bruce Springsteen and Goffin/King) when �In God We Trust� (possibly the finest song Eitzel ever threw away) has STILL to see an official release. So, brilliant and frustrating, then, just like Mark Eitzel himself.
THE GO-BETWEENS � BELLAVISTA TERRACE : BEST OF THE GO-BETWEENS (BEGGARS BANQUET)
Woke just before 9am. The cleaner was in. Watched �The Wright Stuff� and �Missing� and had a roll for breakfast. Walked into town via the Royalty pub, where they were filming something or other, much like 10 years ago when I lived nearby with Dave. Had a coffee in the Henglers then it started pissing down. I browsed in shops and shit, buying this Go-Betweens CD in Avalanche for �3.99. It has my fave track by them on it, �Was There Anything I Could Do?� Just before 1pm, I went to the Crystal Palace and sat upstairs with a pint of �1.49 Pedigree ale, watching the rain. Felt a little better after that and went to Somerfield for my TV mag and some two-for-the-price-of-one veggie spring rolls, then I went to Mono-rail for a browse. It had stopped raining by then. I went into the Scotia and had a couple of pints of cider at �2.29 each. It was pretty quiet in there. After that, I went to the Auctioneers for another cider, then to Failt�, where I stayed for FOUR pints (which are only �1.50 each). Shug, the bar manager, had a black eye and an arm in plaster. He told me he�d fallen down the stairs in Central Station. Hmmm. Some football came on and I pretended to watch it for a while. When I left, Shug called goodbye to me from across the bar. He�s probably on some GREAT medication! Went to Sainsbury�s and got a reduced-to-50p ploughman�s sandwich, water and cider then got the subway back West. Was in just after 9pm. Drank and played my new CD. �Bachelor Kisses� is a really good song, too. As is �Cattle and Cane�, and a few others. The �secret� track is �Lee Remick�, the first song I ever heard by the Go-Betweens (played by John Peel).
GIGS
GLEN MATLOCK � FILTHY MACNASTY�S, LONDON, 5TH APRIL 2007 by Gary Simmons
RECEIVED FROM PAMELA - �Dear Gary how are u? I have a letter ready to be sent� Is the usual address ok or u moved somewhere?? Kiss kiss. Pamela.�
SENT TO PAMELA - �Hi Pamela! Yes, send to �Gartina� please. Hope you are all fine. im going to see a band tonight, Glen Matlock. He�s the original Sex Pistols Bassist. Love Gxxx�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �Got cheque, ta. Will not cash til next week. Plumber here 2 fix bog. I was invited 2 the alky party @ 9.30am but politely declined. Going out in the sun soon.�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Glad 2 no im not th ONLY lytw8 booz fairy then! Only just got up to PAMELAs txt as i WAS tyrd+i wana b �fit� 4 2nyts MAYHEM! My dol in @ close o biznes on 13th.�
RECEIVED FROM MAGGIE MOB SPAIN - �Have a nice day Bear! Just got up, need to wee. I love Bear! If u ave card ring me mobile. If not I�ll buyone later. Keep Paggie informed about Bear adventures!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Culdnt w8 so i started drinkin @ 1pm on tube, SOD it! �i realy wana get FUKT UP 2nyt!� Goin Scamden 1st 2 chek out gigs @ Undaworld, then Bmuseum in th SUN!xxx�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �In Macsorley�s w/a �1.80 pint of Special. �The other� Joe just rang + is coming 2 meet me! Flogged sum CDs for �11 then BOUGHT 2 for �26! AARGH!�
SENT TO TONI - �i am sitin outsyd the British Museum by the grass in this HOT sun drinkin Sainsburys basics Cider + getin in the mood 2 c Glen Matlock @ Filthy McNasty�s @ 7pmx�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Bmusee in th HOT sun! i am alf nakd+ave drunk3quartas of me 1st bowlstool. Txtd M (COSTLY!)+ my nyc Niece. Ful o YOUNG torists ere. Goin Scamden area 2 get �5.�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �In a BOOKIES w/Joe. Had 3 pints + going 2 Horseshoe 4 another. Don�t �get� this gambling shit. He�s bought me drinks, tho!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Fuk �this gamblin SHIT!� Loto is enuf 4 me. Spoke to a POSH chink bitch on bus bak 2 Scamden who wryts cookery books! Got �10 out ATM (no �5s) + now in Dev w/Pepsi.�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �PEPSI? Fuckin� PEPSI?! Been in Horseshoe, now in Failte w/pint #5. Joe plays the fruit machines too� Wot a rotter!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �NAH! U donut understand! i cant AFORD 2 drink in th Dev but i lyk to B there, so �1.30 4 a Pepsi is my �entrance fee� oh u no not London prices BEAR! On bus 2��
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �I was JOKING, U serious boy! Joe�s given me a pill. Ooh! Going 2 an Aussie bar next.�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �In th FOX w/a �2.75 laga. Its heven coz i drank ere since 1981�ish. U no th gaf, sitin outsyd @ th end o Denmark St where Pistols rehersd! WHERE all the FAGS?!?�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �Vespa? Dennis Neilsen JCP? I LUVED that pub! I was happy there - 4 a moment. In shite but cheap Walkabout now. People r so ugly!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Yeah, but WE r bootiful! Bin talkin 2 SPANISH chik+m8s! FUK LYDON, i am KING O TH PUNKS+KING O TH JEWS! U wud LUV this pub! Cum 2 me, i take u thro stratofer!!�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �3rd pint in this Oz bar. Joe wants more sex in HY! + who can blame him? I am now in the zone of drunkeness. FUCK THE PHONIES, FUCK THE FRAUDS. WE WILL WIN!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �In Filthys w/a BLACK SHEEP bita. Saw Glen doin S.chek so @ least he�s ere! Nyc booza, fink u�d wana Dk ere�i DO! We WIL win, i promis u. i am totly Pissed!xx�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �On subway. Joe is GONE. Got 3 litres of Insanesbury�s WHY-der + I�m gunning 4 a pizza + 2 watch my new Dakota Suite DVD. Soon, we will die, but not YET.�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �When u dy u dy! i am soo PIST! i FUK any1! i sed u lyk Djonson but e DUNNO DJ! I.�m VACUNT + I CAN TALK 2 A KING! A-LA GOD! i am GOD! i control! THEY r shit�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �U cant be God, the job�s already taken (ME!) This Dakota Suite doc is AMAZING. The cunt is MENTAL + BEAUTIFUL + REAL. I�ll tape u it if I can. Woo!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �I am RAT FUKIN ARSD! I am nikin leftova drinks. Spoke 2 COO-UL Matlock + had a ruf talk w/sum ozy CUNT, theyr all out 2 GET me! FUK THEM, we r th leders of 2morw!�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �Watchin the AMAZING Dakota Suite DVD for a 2nd time. Cider good. Matlock good. Gary good. We are the fuckin� people!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �I am totaly fukin PIST! B4 i DY in London�i LOVE U! U cum 2 london + �watch me KLI!� They r SHIT! WE R GODS! + I�LL PAY 2 C IT SPOTLIT! WH! LUV U MOR THAN��
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �U can �take me up the London eye� this summer. Mrs. My bed beckons. I�m NOT Ollie Reed, I just share his waistline. A waste of TIME.�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Ta 4 a gr8 evenin! Good fukin NYT! xx�
SENT TO MAGGIE MOB SPAIN - �Stil out! TCRoad! TOTLY fukin PISTD! Kisd Matloks PAW! xx Bear loves U!�
NEXT DAY�
RECEIVED FROM MARK RITCHIE - �Hope you got home ok. Home is where I�m going. Soon. Read that an old skool pal of mine�s been banged-up 4 abusing kids! Ker-azee! Bit cloudy 2day!�
SENT TO MARK RITCHIE - �Ome ok,ta! in bed + in bed i shall stay. Stil drunk + i feel AWFUL! Drank all th dregs i cud find in Filthys, �s worth! Sang Anarky+Vacant w/Spiz, bit o a twat him!�
MARK EITZEL � CABARET VOLTAIRE, EDINBURGH, 19TH APRIL 2007
Got a bus from Buchanan Street at 11am. It was sunny but, by the time we got into Edinburgh, it had started RAINING. Walked about a bit, eating my two peanut butter sandwiches and finishing my bottle of milk. Looked in Fopp and Avalanche on Cockburn Street then went for a piss in John Lewis in the St James Centre. Went down to Vinyl Villains and browsed the 2nd-hand CDs. The sun had come out by then so I walked up to the chippy near Nicholson Square and got some chips and brown sauce. By then, I was THIRSTY, so I went to the Deacon Brodie for a �2.55 pint of Belhaven Best. The place was full of tourists, some of whom were wearing hilarious �Scottish� hats. I sat by the window and read the copy of the Metro I�d picked up on the bus. Then I went to check out the venue for the gig, just to make sure I knew exactly where it was (even though I was there a year ago). It�s only two doors down from a sauna! Went down to Waverley station to check what platform trains to West Calder run from (for tomorrow). Then I bought a bottle of 7.2% cider in Sainsbury�s on Rose Street, which cost �2.19, and went to the Standing Order. Had a shit in there and had two pints of cider, sitting in two different bits. It�s always really busy in there and, as usual, there were LOTS of hotties about. After that, I sat on a bench (dedicated to Elizabeth Burton, 1884-1961) in Princes Street Gardens for a while, drinking my cider. It was really nice and sunny. Nipped into Waterstones to gawp at David Gest, who was doing a signing of his new book. He looked straight at me when I walked in, which sent a shiver down my spine! Then it was just after 6pm and time to meet Gary P and his girlfriend, Kate, in the Guildford Arms. Had a couple of ciders and a chat. Kate�s really softly spoken so it was sometimes hard to hear her over the loud pub chatter. Next stop was Bannermans for another drink and some food (although I didn�t order any, I polished off the chips they�d left). Some dodgy tribute band was getting ready to play, but we left and walked to Blair Street, with me finishing off my cider on the way. As happened last time, we were just in time for Eitzel�s set. In fact, he came on while I was in the toilet, setting up my mini-disc recorder, so I missed the first few moments of his opener, �Last Harbour�. I made my way down to the front, but couldn�t find Gary and Kate, so I was drink-less and had to stand behind some woman who was DANCING (an odd thing to see at an Eitzel show!) Mark himself was in fine fettle.. probably the happiest, most relaxed I�ve EVER seen him at a gig. He was all dressed in black, including a suit jacket and his ubiquitous wooly hat, but he set it off nicely with a blue and white coloured tie. He didn�t really do too many old songs (bar �Last Harbour�, �Jesus� Hands� and the encore of �I�ve Been a Mess�) but it was a GREAT set and there was even a sing-along moment in the new song �Lost Souls of San Francisco� (which I think he debuted last year at this same venue). After the gig, I met up with Gary and Kate and also Alan L, who gave me a mini-disc of a Drive-By Truckers show. He�d bought a tour CD off Mark but, when I went to get one, Gary said he�d sold them all and had gone to get some more, so we had an anxious few minutes waiting for his return, but return he DID and we bought a disc each from the great man himself. We got a taxi back to Gary and Kate�s place, and I was introduced to their two Siamese cats. We drank cider from huge glasses and chatted then, when Kate went bed-wards, we broke out the acoustic guitars for a drunken sing-song of Eitzel hits. Brilliant! I crashed on the sofa after Gary had gone to bed but woke at about 4 or 5am and listened to my recording of the gig but it was all fucked-up, with bits not recorded and other bits in the wrong order. It could be 'cos I jolted the machine or something. Apart from THAT, it sounded good! Pulled back the thick curtain to let in the morning light and to check out the River Forth. The two cats came into the room and sat on the settee, on either side of me. I went back to sleep.
BOOKS
SHAWN LEVY - RAT PACK CONFIDENTIAL (FOURTH ESTATE)
Gave up on this after 100 pages. Who wants to read about a bunch of rich fuckers hanging about in casinos and posh hotels? 'It says nothing to me about my life,' as Morrissey once sang. I still love Sinatra though, and Joey Bishop sounds like a good egg (here's a quote from him ��I'm a worrier by nature. No worrier is ever good-humored. I don't know if a worrier ever is happy.� BRILLIANT!) Thing is, I probably stopped reading this just as things were starting to get INTERESTING. Ah well. Maybe I�ll go back to it one day.
RAYMOND CARVER � ELEPHANT (HARVILL)
There are seven stories in this, Carver�s final collection of new material before his untimely death in August 1988, and each one is a perfect example of why he was one of THE masters of the modern short story form. As usual, nothing much happens, as Carver prefers to focus on the small details of people�s day-to-day lives: a husband and wife going for dinner at his mother�s house, a couple spending a sleepless night mulling over illness and death, marriages falling apart at the seams� Human stories that should resonate deeply within the heart of anyone who�s ever lived any kind of life at all.
DVDS
THE MIGHTY BOOSH LIVE (UNIVERSAL)
Y�know, sometimes I get TIRED of watching ultra-bleak and depressing films about alcoholics and shit, so that�s why I splashed out a very reasonable fiver on this DOUBLE comedy disc from Fopp, after liking what I saw of The Boosh on various TV shows (although, I must confess to having never seen their actual TV SERIES. Shame on me, eh?) Disc one is a nearly two-and-a-half-hour long live show, recorded at London�s Brixton Academy (scene of the last ever Smiths gig, Trivial Pursuit fans) and its gentle madness is heartwarming and JUST the very antidote to the over-eggy pudding of the USUAL stuff I like to watch. It�s very English, very eccentric and, at times, comes across like a kids� show from a parallel universe. In the great hour-plus behind-the-scenes documentary on disc two, it�s revealed that kids DO INDEED go and see this lot live, despite the odd NAUGHTY word here and there. Someone call Social Services and get their parents banged-up in one of our fine British prisons AT ONCE! Never MIND about all the rapists and murderers, THIS is the kind of crime we MUST crack down upon! Other extras include a VERY short �deleted scene� (which is basically some drunk twat heckling) and a couple of other things. Well worth a fiver but NOW I wanna spend MORE dosh on DVDs of The Mighty Boosh�s TV series. Aaargh! Luckily, I can�t find them anywhere. Phew!
BILL HICKS � TOTALLY BILL HICKS (TIGER ASPECT)
Another comedy DVD, gifted to me by a drinking buddy, this contains one of Bill Hicks� final live shows, �Revelations�, and a posthumous documentary tribute called �It�s Just a Ride�. Hicks often came across more like a preacher than a comedian (although, of course, his stuff was often really funny) � his unique take on subjects like drugs, religion and sex won�t ever date because he was someone who talked SENSE and he obviously scared Republican America shitless with his anti-war, love-is-all-you-need attitude (his �anyone who�s in marketing.. KILL YOURSELF!� plea is quite fantastic). Why do THOSE kind of ideas have to be ANTI-establishment? Surely that means that �the establishment� are a bunch of CUNTS? Oh yeah.. This DVD should be shown to school-kids everywhere, as it would teach them a lot more about being a decent human being than a lifetime of nuclear-weapon-sponsored party political broadcasts EVER could.
MERLIN
�He doesn�t do ANYTHING anymore,� Nessa said. �All he does is sit in that room and drink. It�s SUCH a waste.�
�Oh, I KNOW,� agreed Boyd, flicking his cigarette ash onto the picnic blanket. �And he writes SUCH beautiful SONGS too. Have you ever heard any of his songs?�
Nessa nodded, as she sipped her wine from a plastic cup. All around them, the park was filled with the sounds of summer - the faraway chimes of an ice-cream van, children laughing, the trickle of water in a nearby fountain. �It�s no life, is it? I mean, I saw him just the other day. He said he was going to buy some groceries but I KNEW where he was REALLY going.�
�Well, by �groceries�, he probably meant a bottle of whiskey!�
�True,� Nessa laughed. �He was shaking like a leaf as well. Looked like he hadn�t washed in days. And his FINGERNAILS��
�Disgusting,� Boyd said, stubbing his cigarette out in an empty beer can. �I wouldn�t want to live like that. At least I DO things. At least I go OUT.�
�Exactly,� said Nessa. �And you WORK. It�s all very well going on about being DEPRESSED but, I mean, EVERYONE�S depressed, aren�t they? How come WE can get up every morning and go to work? How come WE can do all those things that most people manage to do?�
�He thinks he�s SPECIAL, that�s what it is.� Boyd was reaching into the bag for another can of beer, which he tore open with his teeth. �He thinks he�s BETTER than the rest of us.�
�You�re RIGHT! But how he ever got THAT idea, I�ll NEVER know. Okay, he�s got a bit of talent. Like you said, he can write good songs, and I�ve heard his artwork�s pretty good, but I�ve never actually SEEN any of it myself��
�You know why that is, don�t you?�
Nessa shook her head.
�Well, he says he SOLD it all. To his DENTIST! Can you BELIEVE that? I mean, when was the last time he was ever at a DENTIST?�
They both laughed and fell into silence for a few moments, as they looked around them and took in the beauty of the day.
�Who�d want to be stuck inside a pokey little room on a lovely afternoon like this?� Nessa said. �At least we�re enjoying the WORLD, not HIDING away from it.�
�I really don�t know how he manages to AFFORD it either. He used to go to the Silver Barrel all the time and it�s not exactly CHEAP in there��
�Maybe that�s why he just drinks in the house now,� Nessa proffered.
�Still, that whiskey he drinks isn�t even the CHEAP stuff. But, of course, he wouldn�t want to DENY himself anything, would he?�
�Personally, I don�t see the attraction, myself.�
�It�s not attraction. It�s ADDICTION.�
�It�s really sad, that�s what it is. I wish there was something we could do.�
�There isn�t anything you can do for someone like that, I�m afraid.�
�I suppose you�re right. We�ll just have to let him get on with it.�
Somewhere on the other side of town, their friend Merlin poured himself another drink and turned up his stereo, smiling quietly to himself as John Denver sang �The Wings That Fly Us Home.� The television was showing a daytime chat show, on mute. For a moment, he thought about going over to the window and looking out, but he didn�t bother.