Hiroshima Yeah!
Issue 28
June 2007

"The more you reason, the less you create" - Raymond Chandler
�So WHAT if I suck?� - GG Allin

Why Hiroshima Yeah!? Why NOT? HY! is about FREEDOM - the freedom to be who you REALLY ARE, not who the unworthy style parasites of this world TELL you to be. It�s about the freedom to NOT have a MySpace page, the freedom to NOT like Lilly Allen and all the other dressed-up-for-the-edgy-party-but-actually-more-at-home-with-a-mug-of-cocoa-and-some-Hobnobs puerile pop CUNTS. HY! is about trying to make a pointless life a little less pointless. For ALL of us. Written by Mark Ritchie and Gary Simmons. If you enjoy pressing buttons, visit www.geocities.com/sniperglue


SLOW AND STEADY
I am standing at a urinal
next to a man in a suit.
I used to feel self-conscious
about urinating in public
but not anymore.
The flow of his piss is fast
and (I assume) hot
and he looks at me
as if I should be impressed,
as if his expensive suit
and the rapidity of his bodily functions
were something of which to be immensely proud.
My own stream is slow and steady,
taking its time,
and my clothes are the same ones from yesterday
and the day before.
I don�t look at the man in his suit,
I simply stare at the wall and do my thing.
When I finish, I shake and then zip up,
leaving him standing there,
with his stupid, pissing cock still in his hand,
and I smile as I walk out into the sunshine,
remembering that old saying:
�Slow and steady wins the race.�

WITH
I am not with the folk singers,
I am not with the flock
whose heads burn with sureness,
with certainty.
I am not with the idiot mirrors
and their morning jogs,
fat-free yogurts
and lives of safe treadmill dullness.
I am with the feral,
the free,
the bubbles in the glass,
the jet-trails in the perfect, impossible sky.
I am with the half-smiling, sunburned boys
who gaze at stupidity�s silhouettes,
willing them to turn into beings worthy of their love.

INDULGENCE
He said it to me once,
someone who I thought would know better:
�You�re too indulgent�.
It felt like a slap in the face.
It felt like someone saying to a spider
with a web full of flies,
�you�re too indulgent�,
like someone saying to a bedridden depressive,
�you�re too indulgent�,
like someone saying to the hot tarmac
soaking up the sun,
�you�re too indulgent�.
Nature does what it does.
Indulgence never enters into it.

DRURY STREET or HENRY THE HORSE
This is rapidly becoming my favourite place to sit -
on this love-bench by the window,
watching all the comings and goings of the pub across the lane.
Ian the plumber outside having a smoke,
Drunken Eyes weaving his way between cars parked on wet cobblestones,
the evening bar-staff arriving for their shifts.
I sip my �2.05 cider, like a gargoyle up here, watching,
as the long-haired barman claps along to a jukebox tune
while waiting for tips, waiting for luck,
waiting for kisses like a golden sky.

THIS IS NOT A HAIKU
Tired of trying,
he sits and watches
the rain.

13.7 BILLION YEARS OF HELL
Selected Dispatches from an Unwilling Player of Gods� Little Game
By Gary Simmons

Dreamt I was wearing red bondage strides, NOT like my �normal� ones, and I was sitting in a shop with dad. There were two punk chicks, one in made-me-jealous-tartan-and-BETTER- than-MINE-bondage-strides! It was an odd experience coz I wanted to talk to the strided-one but I ignored her� like seeing someone who MIGHT be on your �wavelength� but never plucking up enough bow-tool to actually TALK to �em. Then we were walking down a street, me almost SLIDING along! What DOES it mean? This bitch was CUTE! Maybe I was wearing �Healies�!? DENNIS Healies!
*
I�m not fucked-up BECAUSE of Whitehouse! I�m fucked-up so I LIKE Whitehouse!! Yes, love is all� but �we are not Jesus� CHRIST!!� Avengers. You can�t have LOVE if you don�t have the �hatred and darkness�. You need to have both sides. You can�t have an action without an EQUAL and OPPOSITE RE-action. That�s how a rocket motor works. That�s the laws of physics and I CANNOT change them, captain!! I NEED my hatred and darkness. Imagine BOOZING without the hangover and the pissing and the shitting and the vomitsville outside of Warren Street tube station?! The two go hand-in-hand, it stands to reason. NATURE�S reason. HER UNCORRUPTABLE LAW!!!! �Physis - Nature, that is - in her first delivery brought forth Beauty and Harmony, without physical copulation. For she is most fertile and prolific in herself. Antiphysis, who has always been Nature�s enemy, was immediately jealous of these beautiful and noble offspring and, to be even with her, gave birth to Misharmony and Discord, by copulation with Tellumon�� The Histories of Gargantua and Pantagruel by Fran�ois Rabelais � the forth book of the heroic deeds and sayings of the noble Pantagruel. Chapter 33 : More about Lent�s Anatomy. �All you need is Audio Shock� Gerogeregegege.

GEROGARYFAYFAYFAY�S �HARD LIVIN�, HARDLY ALIVE�� PLAY-LIST
SONIC YOUTH � DEATH VALLEY �69 (WITH LYDIA LUNCH). 12� (Quadruple-plus AWESOME and THEN some! How CAN a band be so fucking good? Beats me. I also have it on 7� import, ya elephantine testicles of HUMANITY! Homestead Records/Blast First. 1985)
SPIRAL EYE � DEMO CASSETTE (It�s a demo cassette. A dem-oh cass-ett-TAHH! Mega-worthy Tamworth hippies who used to support fellow tammy-tigers Wolfsbane in the good old late 80s. Press �play� and smell that WEED! Wonderful stuff. Shame I only drink. 1988?)
SPK � INFORMATION OVERLOAD UNIT. LP (Worth every fuckin� PENNY of the �40 I paid for this, circa 1992. �It�s sick, it�s sick, I want to die�� Side Effects Records. 1981)
SPK � LEICHENSCHREI. LP (Heard this on John Peel one night in 1982 and bought it the next day. One of THE best experimental/industrial records ever made with one of THE best ever pieces of sleeve art. THANK YOU JOHN, for this is one of the best things that has ever happened to me!! R.I.P. Thermidor. 1982)
SPK � LIVE AT THE CRYPT. Cassette (Purchased from Philip Best�s (Whitehouse) old Iphar label in 1982, complete with �hand made� Maurizio Bianchi soft-core porno sleeve. Funny, coz I hob-knobbed with Philip only a few weeks ago, just after his OUTSTANDING Consumer Electronics gig at the London Underworld. A most charming gentleman indeed, even though he STILL hasn�t sent on my White Power cassette, 25 years LATUS RECTUM! Iphar. 1982)
SPK � JUNK FUNK. 12� (Yup, title says it all; Mid-80s synth dance shite for when the Camden Palace WAS the Camden Palace. Buy only for the cover shot of thee ultra-orgasmic Sinan, it�ll have all your delectable weepy dicks and clit-juicers well a�rocketing into geosynchronous orbit� PHWOAR!! Dunno why anyone would go to the trouble of hackin� it orf at Zizzi�s? Bloody POSEURS! Electra. 1984)
DEATH SQUAD � FOUR TRACK CASSETTE. Cassette (This is early Sutcliffe Jugend, not Spastik Kommunikations/Radium 12 Death Squad, sent to me by William Bennett back in 1993 as a �thank you� for me sending HIM a Gerogerigegege tape! Tracks are: FSPC, Albert Fish, Antipleb and K2. Oh how one YEARNS for the pre-www dot-days. I was happy then! No label. 1993)
SUTCLIFFE JUGEND � CAMPAIGN. Cassette (With �songs� (!) like Human Vivisection, Wombaphilia and Pleasure Corpse, you just kinda KNEW that �The Ultimate Terror Campaign� had indeed begun. A total fuckin� CLASSIC!! Come Organisation. 1982)
THROBBING GRISTLE � AT THE ICA, LONDON. Cassette (IRC. 198?)
THROBBING GRISTLE � AT THE YMCA, LONDON. Cassette (IRC. 198?)

For Brady. I didn�t really know you much at all, but you were always nice to me. Highway To Hell sounds just about right, eh? R.I.P. mate. (Unless some CUNT in the Elephant is �avin� me on?!)

MUSIC
DAR WILLIAMS � END OF THE SUMMER (RAZOR & TIE)
When someone taped me a few songs by Dar Williams several years ago, I�d never heard of her and I still don�t really know all that much about her, except that she sounds a bit like Suzanne Vega and a bit like Joni Mitchell and she does achingly gorgeous songs on acoustic guitar like �If I Wrote You� (�dedicated to the memory of Townes Van Zandt�), �My Friends� and the title track (which is like a Raymond Carver poem set to music) as well as full-band songs (some featuring PEDAL STEEL) that could be hits if ANYONE in the mainstream world had any TASTE and she writes really thoughtful, witty, lyrical story songs about drinking and loving and living and this album that I rescued from a charity shop is GREAT.

THE FALL - LIVE AT THE WITCH TRIALS (CASTLE MUSIC) / REFORMATION POST TLC! (SLOGAN RECORDS)
I've liked The Fall for years. ADMIRED them, even, but I�ve always found them a hard band to LOVE. I got into them, as a lot of people did, via John Peel, sometime in the mid-1980s. They had a few Top 40 hits around this time, too, with the singles �Hey! Luciani�, �There's a Ghost in My House� and �Victoria� and I found myself buying a couple of these, along with the albums �Bend Sinister�, �I Am Kurious, Oranj�  and �Seminal Live�. Fall LPs tend to have two or three absolutely killer tracks on them and a load of half-arsed stuff that's kind of interesting and kind of good but not quite interesting or good ENOUGH. These two CDs (a double-disc reissue of their debut from 1979 and their latest release) were sent to me by a kind reader who thought it may be good to do a compare and contrast job. Well, there really is no contest, for "Live at the Witch Trials" contains great tracks like �Rebellious Jukebox� and �Like to Blow� (with CLASSICS such as �Bingo-Master�s Break-Out!� and �Dresden Dolls� amongst the bonus tracks) whereas the new record only really hits its mark with the songs �Over! Over!�, �Fall Sound� and �Systematic Abuse� (with customarily bonkers lyrics about potatoes!) The other tracks on �Reformation�� range from weird to REALLY weird. �Das Boat�, for example, is ten minutes of clinky, phasey strangeness and �The Wright Stuff� (an attack on/tribute to my fave morning phone-in show, perhaps?) has the current Mrs Mark E. Smith on, er, �vocals�. Brix she AIN�T.

ADMIT YOU�RE SHIT � SOMEPLACE SPECIAL (MORTARHATE)
With sleeve-notes slagging off drugs and the inclusion of a Minor Threat song (�In My Eyes�), I can only assume that Admit You�re Shit (well, their NAME�S certainly SHIT) are a straight-edge band. YAWN! Reminds me of what Bill Hicks once said about musicians who take drugs � it�s a GOOD thing! Most of the world�s BEST songs have been written on drugs! And people in bands who go on about being anti-drugs usually come across as whiney, self-righteous PRICKS. So fucking THERE! Me and Andrew thought it was HILARIOUS when we drew straight-edge crosses on our hands at a Fugazi gig at Glasgow Barrowland in the mid-1990s and then proceeded to get PISSED on BEER! You should�ve SEEN the LOOKS we got from the no-fun boys! That gig was like being at a SCHOOL ASSEMBLY, with the sterile lights and the �no-pogoing� policy. I like Fugazi�s MUSIC, but they�re not much FUN to go and see. Anyway, onto A.Y.S. They couldn�t be arsed thinking up titles for the first 11 tracks here, so they�re ALL called �Someplace Special� parts 1-11 (and it should be someWHERE, not somePLACE� these guys are BRITISH, not YANKY doodle DANDIES). The Minor Threat cover is a BIG clue - they don�t reinterpret it as a flamenco style waltz or anything (the only major difference is the Cockneyfied singing) - and all their OWN songs sound much the same: short, fast, pissed-off and quite good. It�s nothing NEW and it�s nothing SPECIAL but it�s great for jumping up and down to when you�re in that sort of mood. Hey, have you heard of punk aerobics? Check out www.punkrockaerobics.com. This CD would make a GREAT soundtrack!

WESTWIND � THE BUNKER (BLACK SUN RISING) www.chez.com/blacksunrising
Firstly, some facts: Westwind are French, they sample brainy film directors like Kubrick and Otomo as well as midget chanteuse Edith Piaf and the German Army Orchestra, they do dark, brooding pieces with titles like �Time to Die� and �Kill Again� and this CD is a limited edition of 499 copies with the first nine tracks also being available on vinyl �in a special 10XLP wood box�. Secondly, some opinions: This is the sound of lost souls trapped in a frightening labyrinth of pain and isolation. This is the sound of tortured spirits adrift in a nightmare without end. This is the sound that Goths make when they�re too old to continue hanging around outside city centre art galleries in the rain trying to look bored and sensitive. Two or three of these tracks would�ve maybe made a half-decent EP but, over the course of 16 tracks and almost 72 minutes, the boredom was making me want to gnaw my own face off and I couldn�t wait to escape from this �Bunker�.

VARIOUS � STRENGTH THRU OI! (CAPTAIN OI!)
THIS is more like it! 22 tracks of none-more-working-CLARSE early �80s punk �n� poetry by the likes of 4-Skins, Criminal Class, Garry Johnson, Splodge and Toy Dolls (before they sold out and, gasp, had a HIT SINGLE!) This is a CD reissue of a 1981 album compiled by Garry Bushell (he of the dubious dyed beard), who updates his original sleeve-notes with an illuminating mini-rant against the morons who misunderstand the nature of Oi! and look upon it as some kind of racist movement. Barney Rubbles� poems are hilarious, as is Toy Dolls� �Deidree�s a Slag� (about the �Coronation Street� character, who�s STILL in the show to this day!) and The Shaven Heads� �I was born in Cockney land� singsong and, while there�s nothing here quite as stirringly brilliant as Cock Sparrer�s dole anthem �Working�, as a period piece this is a fascinating album that often hits the mark. Even if Garry Bushell IS a fucking PRICK.

ELLIOTT SMITH � NEW MOON (DOMINO)
Elliott Smith�s suicide in 2003 was a real loss for anyone who is adoring of sensitive, acoustic-strumming singer-songwriter types, so this lovingly packaged double disc collection of cleaned-up demos and rare tracks is a real (and unexpected) treat. As well as a previously unheard version of well-established classic �Miss Misery� (which was narrowly beaten to an Oscar by Celine Dion�s �My Heart Will Go On�, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the majority of people are TOTAL IDIOTS), there are beautiful lost songs like �Angel in the Snow�, �Going Nowhere�, �New Disaster� and �Either/Or� (a song that, for reasons unknown, was left off the 1997 album of the same name) to feast upon as well as a lovely version of Big Star�s �Thirteen�. There are extensive sleeve-notes by a variety of Elliott�s friends as well as an ultra pretentious ESSAY from some tosser who comes away with shite like �as we are suspended harmonically, so we are suspended in the narrative, as in a Beckett novel, between our disbelief, our dreams, our memory, the musings of an earlier self, the omniscient or the oblivious�. EH?!?! What an absolute DICK! Great album, though. Avalanche were selling it the WEEK before it was due to be released! One of the MANY reasons why I LOVE that shop!

THE HOLD STEADY � STUCK BETWEEN STATIONS (VAGRANT)
This is the opening � and best � track on The Hold Steady�s amazing album �Boys and Girls in America� (see HY! #24 for review) and it�s kind of APT that I bought it on seven-inch vinyl, as there�s something so deliciously 1970s about it � the addictive rush of AM radio piano, classic rock riffage and lyrics that encompass Jack Kerouac and the suicide of poet John Berryman (�She said, �you�re pretty good with words but words won�t save your life�, and they didn�t, so he died�). The B-side, �Teenage Liberation�, is marvellous too. It�s another spine-tingling anthem about �teenage chicks that grew up too quick� who spend their time �kissing boys and getting wasted�. The live, acoustic version of �Chips Ahoy!� works less well (this band don�t really suit the stripped-down approach so much) and I�m afraid I�ll have to go to my grave without hearing their cover of The Violent Femmes� (or �Violet Femmes� as it�s misspelt on the cover. Doh!) �American Music� which graces the CD version. FUCK that rip-off formatting SHIT. THAT never happened in the �70s, maaan!

TOM T. HALL � NEW TRAIN - SAME RIDER (RCA)
MORE vinyl! This dog-eared LP was STARING me in the PUSS, from the �1 racks, on an impromptu visit to Lost in Music one smelly, sunny Wednesday PM. I LOVE Tom T. Hall � even if loads of his songs DO sound exactly the same! This album contains lovely ballads like �I�m Not Ready Yet� (which was performed stirringly by The Mary Janes on the EXCELLENT 1998 tribute collection �Real � The Tom T. Hall Project�), �Burning Bridges�, the splendidly titled �I�d Rather Die Young (Than Grow Old Without You)�, �No One Feels My Hurt� and �I Wish I Loved Somebody Else� and upbeat hoe-downs like �Come on Back to Nashville�, �Dark Hollow� and �Mabel, You Have Been a Friend to Me�. Then there�s the shameless �Star Wars� cash-in �May the Force Be With You Always� (this album came out in 1978, one year after the film) and �Whiskey�, a plaintive ode to the giddy pleasures and hellish pains caused by the demon drink.

CLODHOPPER � RED�S RECOVERY ROOM (MY OWN PLANET)
Woke at 9am. Watched some of �The Wright Stuff� then left. It was raining on and off. Walked into town, stopping at the post office in Finnieston to post a couple of things. At around 11, I was in the Edward Wylie with a latte. Had a veggie breakfast too, as I was really hungry. Took a dump. Realised I hadn�t looked in Missing, so I did. They had this 1998 CD by various members of American Music Club (led by Danny Pearson, who I found out only a DAY later is NOT going to be playing on the forthcoming AMC album) that I stupidly didn�t buy at the time. I had a couple of DVDs to trade-in (by Suede and The White Stripes), so I got this for nothing (they were selling it for �4.50) PLUS a �2 coin! Quite a result, I think. It�s a GREAT album and I was really pleased to get it, finally. Then I went to Waterstones and read parts of a Nirvana biography for a while. After that, I had a look in HMV and read a Ryan Adams interview in WH Smith. Went to the Scotia and had a pint of Guinness at around 1pm. It was really quiet in there but had started to fill up a bit when I left. Saw Kenny in St Enoch Square, chatting to someone, sitting on a bench. Went to Borders for a browse then had a cider in the Counting House, eavesdropping on some actor from the Citizens Theatre�s super-gay conversation. Had a couple of hot cross buns (27p from Sainsbury�s) then went to the Auctioneers for another cider and a read of the Metro. Then I went to O�Henrys and sat in my usual seat, watching the comings and goings of the Horseshoe across the lane. Saw James going in but, as I�d already seen him twice this week, I didn�t bother going in. A couple of Horseshoe barmaids came in and sat at the next table. After that, I went to Failt� for a cider and some ogling. Had a piss in Lauders (which was full of scum, as usual. If you wanna get STABBED, it�s the place to be) then went into Walkabout, but luckily I changed my mind and left before I got served. It�s a DUMP. Went instead to the Brunswick, which is back to being CHEAP, I�m pleased to say. �1.50 a drink. Overheard some girl saying �Christine? That fucking bitch is ugly as fuck!� Decided to go to the State Bar next, a pub I used to frequent a LOT back in 1999/2000. It�s DEAR now (�2.70 for a cider!!) I sat in a leather armchair by a fire, feeling like the drunk old man character from �The Fast Show�. The staff from Missing were all there too, as were most of the people who USED to drink there. Time has stood still. Then I walked back, stopping off for my 8th pint of the day/night in the Halt. Got chips and was back in the flat at 9.23pm. Watched disc three of the �Seinfeld� box-set that Andrew got me. Watched that till 1.15am then TRIED to sleep over the noise of the alky-party across the hall. That broke up around 2.15am, though.

GARE RAMA - JUST LIKE THE RIVER (SELF-RELEASED) www.garerama.com
AKA Gary Pearson (officially the nicest man in Edinburgh), this is Gare Rama�s third CD release and it�s a bittersweet collection of songs very much influenced by the elements. References to nature, the seasons, rivers and the wind abound. Optimistic opener �Other Side of Winter� sounds like waking up in the morning in a peaceful woodland clearing, reminding me of Murakami�s �Kafka on the Shore� where the main character spends time living in the woods and showering in the rain. �Continued� is melancholic, open-tuned, a meditation on life, death and all the bits in between while �A Step Outside� would be a good advert for the healing power of the great outdoors. Scottish Tourist Board take note! �Song Bird� is a beautiful ballad and a million times better than the shite Oasis song of the same time, thank fuck! �Real Eyes� sounds familiar, making me wish I could find my copy of Gary�s �What Others Cannot See� cassette from the early 1990s, so I could check to see if it�s a song that�s been resurrected from THAT. Alas, my tape collection is in SUCH disarray that I have no idea where it is at the present time. Oh well! * A bit of concept album shenanigans creeps in next, because tracks 6-8 are all �River Songs�, comprising a faintly Eastern sounding �Prelude�, the deep-throated cyclical guitar buzz of the title track and the lovely �Departing Day�, surely the best song to mention cider since The Wurzel�s �I Am a Cider Drinker�. Topped off with icy shards of guitar, �Do You Know?� quickens the pulse in swinging fashion while �First Day of March� sees storm clouds gathering on a rapidly darkening horizon. �Rejoice� evokes the spirit of The Velvet Underground, albeit a slightly cheerier version. I can�t tell if the lyric �you created all of this� is meant here as a positive or a negative. Final tracks �Last Day of February� and �I Could� steer the album to a concluding mood of hard-won optimism. To my mind, this is Gary�s most consistently pleasing collection yet, so DO check it out. Computer-lovers can even listen to a few tracks online before deciding whether or not to part with any cash.
*Investigation of the Gare Rama website reveals that TWO of the songs here were              INDEED originally released on �What Others Cannot See�. So THERE!

TINDERSTICKS � WAITING FOR THE MOON (BEGGARS BANQUET)
Woke at about 7.40am and was prevented from going back to sleep by scaffold-erecting cunts down the road, so I put headphones on and eventually drifted off, finally waking again at 9. Had  coffee and a roll and watched �The Wright Stuff� then walked into town and did a bit of browsing. Got this CD for �3 from a charity shop. Don�t know why I really gave up on Tindersticks, �cos I thought their first three LPs were amazing. Maybe it was their detour into soul-type stuff that threw me off course but this 2003 release has some brilliant stuff on it, from the Velvet Underground-esque �4.48 Psychosis� to the lovely duet between Stuart Staples and Lhasa de Sela �Sometimes it Hurts�. Even the two songs where violinist Dickon Hinchliffe takes over lead vocals are wonders to behold (his voice isn�t at ALL dissimilar to Staples�, so the overall effect isn�t too jarring, like it can sometimes be when other members of bands decide they want to get in on the singing action. Belle and Sebastian, take note. PLEASE!) And how �queer� that I got this album in the same week that More 4 started using a track from it in a TV ad! Got some chips from Somerfield which I finished sitting on the steps of the St Enoch Centre, from where I  saw some guy in a T-shirt that said �KILL EVERY CUNT� on the back! Went to Mono for 1.30pm and looked at CDs before Grant and Marty showed up. We got a round of drinks (I had cider, they had beer) and sat outside in the sun. Grant gave me a bag of goodies, including some tapes he'd done for me, a Vic Chesnutt CD (see review elsewhere), a Murakami novel and a Bogshed LP I'd lent him ages ago. By our 3rd drink, we'd gone inside as an ill wind had begun to blow through the courtyard. I saw a guy I used to know, who was having a meal with someone but he didn't speak to me, but at least Stuart from Mogwai DID. He asked about �that weird little place you�re from� and said he'd driven through it the other day, for some reason. We all had vinyl albums on us. Must be the latest thing! Marty had bought a Beach Boys LP and Grant a Von Sudenfed one (featuring Mark E Smith). We left after that and walked to Macsorley's (who were playing Elliott Smith) where we embarked on another 3 rounds of drinks. Some Spanish football fans came in (30,000 were going to be in town for the cup final the next day) but Grant and Marty had to go home as it was Grant's birthday and there was some �do� arranged. I finished off his beer and began feeling a bit drunk but went to the Brunswick anyway and had 2 pints of cider while listening to Adam and the Ants and Joy Division before walking back. Got pakora and was in the flat at 8.55pm and I can only assume that I drank some more, though I can't recall when I went to bed. Next day, I awoke at 9, ate the rest of my pakora with coffee and listened to a sent-after-midnight voice message from Joe, so I texted him about going to Shawlands and he rang back saying Cat was off work with a bad back and he was going to the opticians with his mum and could I go up and �look after� Cat and lend them some money. But it was raining ALL DAY LONG, so I just walked into town and saw the thousands of Spaniards here for the cup final at Hampden with their painted faces and stupid flags. George Square was all shut off and there were tonnes of cops around. Marty had said he was working there today. Had a look in some shops then got some cheap grub in Lidl and was back in the flat at 2.45-ish. After a while, I got really bored and annoyed so went out again at 6pm and had a cider in Curlers, sitting by a window, then 2 ciders in Tennants. I left as the football was about to start and the place began filling up. Got a bottle of Lambrini and walked about in the rain, up to Hyndland. Then I was dying for a shit so I went into Oran Mor, then got cider from Somerfield and was back in my room for 9. Watched �Seinfeld� for ages, till after midnight. The next day, I got up at 9, and got pissed off at the slanty-eyed BITCH who just IGNORES me when I say hello to her. Fuckin� WHORE. �Trisha� was entitled �Girlfriend � Are You Really Gay?� Ate a bit of one of the cheapo pot noodles I�d got yesterday but it was so VILE that I threw it in the bin. Went out and got 60p worth of free photocopies in the library (someone had left money in the machine) then walked into town and had a latte in the Ed Wylie at noon. Got a card for Moira's birthday from Eddie's then read some article about a new �experimental� film about Kurt Cobain in a mag in Borders. Had a roll on veggie �turkey� slices for lunch. George Square was all clean and tidy after the previous day�s chaos. Saw a few random Spaniards wandering about, looking bewildered and lost. Went for a pint in Cairns and read the Metro (was gonna go to the Scotia but it was SHUT). Then I went to RGs (where LOUD music played. Shit like �Girls, Girls, Girls�) then to the Auctioneers, where I sat in the lounge. Then I went to O'Henrys, sitting in my usual seat, Horseshoe watching, which was my next stop. Michael was in (with a very Tom Waits-ish cap on), talking to Sharon, who he'd only just met earlier (he'd heard her Ayrshire accent!) She was with some OTHER guy whom she'd ALSO just met! He was pissed! She said she was off work �sick�. Drunken Eyes and Cider Jimmy were also in, as was Andy M, with a couple of his mates. Was gonna say hello but he�d vanished. After a while, me and Michael left and went round to Failte for 2 pints of Guinness each. Several times, he referred to me as �a bohemian� and said he admired me for sticking to my guns regarding jobs (ie � trying to avoid having one). Hmm. Wish I could say I felt the same. He had to get home to cook his wife's dinner so I walked him to the station but he wanted �one for the road� in Waxy O'Connors, a labyrinthine place where I�d never been before. We went for a piss then had a Guinness but I had to finish his for him as he was late for his train. He'd been drinking all day, �cos he'd called in sick after �celebrating� while watching the football last night. I went to the Brunswick for a cider and also bought a bottle of the stuff while walking back. Got in at 9.37pm. Watched GG vids till whenever.

VIC CHESNUTT � IS THE ACTOR HAPPY? (TEXAS HOTEL)
Ever since I got a second-hand copy of his �Drunk� album, from 1993, I�ve really WANTED to like Vic Chesnutt but, for some reason, I always found his songs hard to connect with, apart from the odd exception. Thankfully, this 1995 CD (a gift from Grant, on HIS birthday, oddly enough) contains one of Vic�s true chestnuts (sorry!) � a song called �Onion Soup� that I adored as soon as I heard it played on the John Peel show back in the day. Upon receipt of this disc, I decided it was time to REALLY give Vic�s stuff a chance (bet he�s soooo GRATEFUL) so I�ve been repeatedly listening to it for a few days now and it DOES start to get under the skin after a while. Slowly but surely, a set of lovely songs start to reveal themselves. The strange, sometimes laugh-out-loud funny, lyrics recall Kurt Wagner (whose band Lambchop have collaborated with Chesnutt in the past) and even early REM (old Stipey-poos produced the aforementioned �Drunk� and sings backing vocals on the final track here, under a pseudonym). Songs like �Gravity of the Situation� and �Wrong Piano� tick all the right boxes with their chiming pedal steels and sedate tempos and there are brilliant songs with brilliant titles like �Betty Lonely� and �Sad Peter Pan�. And, if you�ll pardon yet another crappy pun, �Onion Soup� still hasn�t lost its distinctive flavour after all these years.

WILCO � SKY BLUE SKY (NONESUCH)
I�m not sure why a comparison has to be drawn, but out of the two songwriters in legendary alt country pioneers Uncle Tupelo, I always favoured Jay Farrar. It�s not that I didn�t LIKE Jeff Tweedy�s contributions � in fact, some of them were startlingly GREAT � it�s just that having more than one songwriter in the same band creates a certain rivalry, like it or not. Jay was always my favourite Tupelo just as John was always my favourite Beatle. So, it was pretty wild when Jeff Tweedy�s post-Tupelo band Wilco released the seminal �AM� record. Free of having to rub up against someone else�s work, Tweedy laid out his stall as a dazzlingly gifted writer and the pedal steel textured songs were close enough to his previous band so as not to cause anyone to spill their Vimto in surprise. I liked their second release, �Being There�, less and, in fact, I haven�t bought a Wilco album since, despite hearing some decent things on all of their other records (taped for me by friends). Why did I splash out ten quid on THIS, then?  Perversely, it has a lot to do with the reviews that dismissively called it a step backwards (specifically to the 1970s). Well, I LIKE the Beatle-isms of �Hate it Here� and �Walken� and I LIKE the fact that lots of the songs (the title track, �Either Way�, �Impossible Germany�, �Please Be Patient With Me�, �Leave Me (Like You Found Me)� and �What Light� especially) are gentle and tuneful and sound like long-lost outtakes from �AM� and I LIKE the fact that they�ve left behind the long Sonic Youth style noise jams of last LP, �A Ghost is Born�. In short, I LIKE the fact that Wilco have returned to their ROOTS.

THE NATIONAL � BOXER (BEGGARS BANQUET)
I�m afraid I fell for the hype and bought this so-called �essential� album, despite only having previously heard a single song by The National (one that I didn�t even particularly LIKE!) The singer is one of those deep-throated crooners in the Cohen/Cash/Cave mould while the music is mainly confined to a Joy Division style doomy stomp which is all a bit samey over the course of an entire album. Having said that, there ARE some stand out tracks here - �Slow Show� and �Guest Room� especially. But it�s when The National explore other sonic territories, like on �Gospel� and the excellent, swiftly-picked acoustic guitar number �Racing Like a Pro�, that they are most successful. In fact, this track comes close to reaching the dizzy heights of American Music Club and there can be NO finer accolade than THAT, in MY book at least!

GIG
RICHMOND FONTAINE � BONGO CLUB, EDINBURGH, 26TH MAY 2007
Slept well but had rather unsettling dreams. In one, there was a huge paper-mach� witch�s mask on my wall. Woke at 7.55am and chatted to mum before she left early for work (they had a meeting on). Made scrambled egg, toast and coffee for breakfast and watched last night�s Jonathan Ross show on video. Brought in the washing as it had started raining. Had a shower. Taped Wilco and Richard Swift�s appearances on last night�s �Later� onto another video. Made a couple of rolls to take with me. Listened to Radio 2 on the digibox. Mark Lamarr and Jo Brand. Went next door to say bye. Had soup for lunch. Got the 11.45 Blue Bus to West Calder (two quid!) It was five or six minutes late and seemed to be going really slowly. All the traffic lights were red, every bus stop had someone waiting at it, etc. It�s cos I knew I had to catch the train at 12.10 or would need to wait an hour for the next one. Luckily, I DID catch it, with a few minutes to spare, and I didn�t even have to PAY, cos I got off at Slateford, a station which doesn�t have any ticket barriers. Enjoyed the walk into town too. Saw a man wearing a hat with leaves on it. Like some camouflage thing. Saw a billboard that said �In less than an hour, you�re a million miles away� which is how I FELT. Texted Gary to see if he wanted to meet for a beer but he replied that he was ill. Looked in some charity shops and Waterstones. Went into the Standing Order but it was really busy. Full of folk on stag and hen dos, by the looks of it. Bought some 7.5% cider from Sainsbury�s and had a roll sitting on a bench in Princes Street Gardens. Then I went and looked in Avalanche and found the Bongo Club. Thought it�d be near the Hollyrood Tavern, where Gary took me a while ago, and it WAS (although the pub�s now closed). In quite a dodgy area, really, with some scary looking flats and plenty of old guys drinking in the street. Saw a couple shouting at each other - she on the street and him in his window, calling her �a fuckin� thief�. Nice! It felt like the right kind of place to start drinking my cider, so that�s what I DID! Then I really wanted a sit down so went to the Black Bull and had three pints of cider at �2.69 a pop. It was relatively peaceful despite the rock music and, because they weren�t showing football, a lot of the UNDESIREABLE ELEMENT didn�t bother coming in (or didn�t STAY long if they DID). After that I went to check out the old Venue (another fine place that�s now shut). Someone had written �THE BEST R.I.P.� in green paint. Then I walked up Calton Hill to admire the beautiful view and finish my bottle of cider. It was fairly secluded apart from all the tourists. Saw more graffiti - �DRINK IS VITAL�. Quite. Then I went to Bannermans and had a dump and a couple of �2.95 pints. Really busy in there. Some shite band were on in the other room. I was getting maudlin, thinking of worst case scenarios. Reminded me why I HATE going out on Saturday nights. Then I walked to the Bongo Club for 8pm and bought a bottle of Magners which was so expensive I�ve blocked it from my memory. Bob Frank and John Murry were already on stage, Richmond Fontaine�s pedal steel player sitting in with them. They were good. Old school country shit. Got another Magners and headed down the front for the headliners. Alan and his mate were there and we said hello but Alan headed to the toilet as he�d smoked some powerful skunk before the show, apparently. It was the first time I�d been less than delighted at a Richmond Fontaine gig but it wasn�t the band�s fault. I just felt a little jaded and a little sad. They ran a lot of the songs together with no pauses in between which was a bit odd, I thought. It seemed to get better towards the end (or maybe my mood just did) and �Western Skyline� was gorgeous as ever. They closed their set with �Four Walls� and Willy apologised for the 10pm curfew �to make way for the disco. Every town needs a disco!� Seemed like practically the whole audience stayed behind for the meet �n� greet but I�ve already shaken the Vlautin hand so I went outside and waited for Maureen. (It occurred to me later that I didn�t check out the merch table. Oh well). Saw either Bob Frank or John Murry having a fag with Dan from RF and watched as the shiny-clothed Saturday night morons queued up for the aforementioned disco. Maureen eventually showed up in the pet ambulance and I was a little drunk and rambling nonsense, probably. When we got back to the house, she gave me a bottle of white wine which I drank nearly ALL of and we chatted in the living room and played with the puppies in the kitchen. Don�t recall when I went to bed in the spare room but I think I must have passed out, cos it was SUDDENLY after 5am and I found myself texting Gary in London. Then I went to bed PROPER and didn�t really wake till 11am. Had some Crunchy Nut Cornflakes with coffee and toast and then saw Maureen and played with the pups some more. At 12.45, I went out for a walk. It was nice and sunny, unlike the LAST time I was in Musselburgh. Went into a pub called the Hayweights on North High Street and had a pint of Fosters. Was going to stay for another but decided to head down to the beach instead, for some bracing sea air. Then I went into the town centre, had a dump in a public bog and looked at all the CLOSED charity shops. Saw a few runners who had done the Edinburgh marathon. Then I went into Tesco for some crisps and a pasta snack thing and headed back to Maureen�s place, where I wrote this.

ZINE
SPLITTING IN TWO & OTHER ROCK 'N' ROLL HABITS (PART TWO) Contact - Robert Dellar, 5 Walsham Road, London, SE14 5ND
Part of the burgeoning Mad Pride movement (�a group of mental health service users who promote the civil liberties and social standing of psychiatric patients�), this zine contains interesting pieces about squatting, hanging out with Ronnie Corbett and a supermarket trip from hell as well as bizarro fiction and a couple of live reviews (I didn't realise the guy from Television Personalities was such a mental wreck these days, which is a shame, and terribly ironic considering they had a song about Syd Barrett). The "medicationword" on the back page is good for a laugh too.

DVD
CON-DOM/THE GREY WOLVES � LIVE AT THE CONSUMER ELECTRONICS #5 (L.WHITE)
I just don�t GET it. I don�t get football, I don�t get paedophilia and I don�t get noise. This DVD comprises of people (a bald guy covered in paint in the case of Con-Dom and TWO bald guys in vaguely Nazi-style clothes in the case of the Grey Wolves) standing around looking bored, or trying to intimidate the audience by pushing them about a bit (how fuckin� HARD), or ranting nonsense into mics against filmic backdrops and fiddling with boxes emitting buzzing noises. And that�s IT! It�s not SHOCKING, it�s not CHALLENGING or INTERESTING, it�s just BORING. It�s just NOTHING, really. TUNES and PASSION are absent here. Maybe I�m not clever enough to �get it�, but I suspect that there�s really nothing to GET and that the saddoes who worship this kind of nonsense are too dead and unfeeling and passionless to �get� joy and love and walking in the park with cats and dogs and ducks and trees and GOD.

A BAD DAY
Lester had been having a bad day. Not only had he failed to sell enough insurance policies to make his weekly bonus, but Sylvia on reception had rebuffed his advances and threatened to tell their boss as well as her boyfriend who, she never tired of mentioning, was a rugby player. So, as he loosened his Paul Smith tie and merged into the stream of commuters on Sumner Street, he had no problem convincing himself that he�d earned a few drinks. It was Thursday evening and all the bars were already crowded so he decided to try out a new place, Montgomery�s, which had opened only a few weeks previously. He�d read in the local paper about their excellent cocktails and �quiet, friendly atmosphere�.
The place was certainly quiet. Jazz music played softly and there was only one barmaid, whose bored demeanour implied that she would rather be anywhere than here, mixing drinks for her seven or eight customers. Lester studied the cocktail menu for a few moments before ordering a Tom Collins and settling down at a table near the door with his newspaper. He tried to read a couple of articles but all he could think about was his terrible day at work. It was so annoying to miss out on his bonus, not to mention the situation with Sylvia. He should be able to smooth things over with the boss but her boyfriend was another matter entirely.
But by the time he was on his third drink, the office had been forgotten about and he was admiring the figure of a young brunette and wondering if he should go over and speak to her. It was then that he noticed a portly, middle-aged woman enter the bar with a charity collection can. Here we go, he thought. The woman walked straight up to him, as if he were the only person there.
�Would you like to help disabled children, sir?�
�No, thanks,� Lester said, returning his gaze to the brunette.
�What do you MEAN, no thanks?� the woman asked, amazed.
�I mean, no thanks, I�d rather not, if that�s all the same with you.�
�Don�t you have any money?�
Lester was starting to get angry.
�Whether I have any money or not isn�t any of your concern. Now, kindly leave me alone.�
�Oh, I see. What you mean is you don�t WANT to help disabled children. Is THAT what you mean? What kind of person WOULDN�T like to help disabled children?�
�Look, it�s not that I wouldn�t LIKE to, it�s just that I have a problem with people coming into bars and asking for money. Whether it�s for charity or not.�
�You�ve got a PROBLEM, alright,� the woman said.
�It�s the PRINCIPLE of the thing. I mean, I work hard, I feel like I�ve EARNED the right to sit here and not be bothered, that�s all.�
�Look, pal,� a surly-looking man sitting at the bar piped in. �No one wants any trouble here. All you have to do is put some money in the lady�s tin and that�ll be an end to it.�
�You�re obviously missing my POINT,� Lester protested. �It�s not ABOUT the money. I GIVE money to charity all the time. I just think some places should be exempt from that sort of thing. People come to places like this to get AWAY from all that. Don�t you think?�
�No, I DON�T,� the man said, getting up from his stool. �And I don�t appreciate you telling me what I should or shouldn�t think, either.�
�Well, isn�t that what you�re doing to ME?� Lester said. �You�re trying to make me do something I don�t want to do just to conform. Well, I�m NOT going to conform. I do enough of THAT at work.�
By now, almost everyone in the bar was staring at him. Some of them were smiling, others had very solemn looks on their faces. The only person who wasn�t looking in his direction was the brunette, who was pretending to be extremely fascinated by her mobile phone. The whole place seemed to have gone completely silent. Where had the jazz music gone, Lester wondered?
He hadn�t noticed the barmaid approaching his table, but now there was no ignoring her as she leant over him, her chunky gold necklace almost hitting him in the face.
�Just forget it,� she said, addressing the woman with the collection can, but looking straight at Lester. �There�s no talking to some people. They�re just IGNORANT.�
�Listen,� he said in protest, �I just came in here for a quiet drink. I don�t want any trouble. What�s the MATTER with you people?�
Everyone was looking at him now, including the brunette, who had a disgusted look on her face.
�There�s nothing the matter with US,� replied the barmaid, removing his half-finished drink and wiping the table with a cloth. �Don�t come in here again. Your sort aren�t welcome�. Then she tottered away on her high heels, leaving him sitting there, flabbergasted, as the woman with the collection can made her rounds of the bar, smiling and joking with all the other customers.
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