We go to school, with booze, and possibly cakes...

so that i might alight to this:

I was cheeky the other day. I had a beast of a Marx essay to prepare for, and a mood from hell. I'd felt a void since my old walkman got stolen, and I wanted the same one, so I wandered for 45 minutes finding it, bought some decent headphones, then bought:


for £5.99 (46 tracks - yeay!)

as well as:



(£11.00 combined)

and a Xiu Xiu single. Hot academic cafe action then ensued with an uberlush soundtrack. Disc 2 of the RT Indiepop thing owns me right now, especially Magnetic Fields' '100,000 fireflies', that's a bit special...but all of it's amazing really.

As I've said before, Sunday-style gigs rule. Admittedly, this time a few of us had been out the night before (what with it being a Saturday and that) and were suffering from slight jaundice. A bigass Wagamama meal (incidentally, also the choice of the Franz drummer geezer) plus boozes boosted the energies, combined with the euphoria of Ted arriving in good time. So, it was a rare sight to see the posse (Ted, Me, Ale, Andy, Emma, Chris, Pablo and Gill) piling into the City of Rock before the first support band had taken to the stage.

Sons And Daughters are probably best reviewed by Ted as he has intimate experience of them from his visits to Glasgow and that. Indeed, as Ted described drunkenly and emphatically failing to chat up the foxy bass/guitar mandolin player lady I couldn't help but fnd myself enjoying the band but not feeling totally engaged. But that probably says more about me.

Next up were the Fiery Furnaces. Now until the previous night, when it got an airing at Rescue Rooms, I didn't even know there was a loud and raucous version of what I had previously known as the beautifully languid 'Tropical Iceland'. I even thought the RR had played some kinda Fatboy Slim remix or summat. It was therefore slightly disparaging to find much of the FF's material to be besmirched (sp?) by crazy blur-style wurlitzer organy tones, and a little tiring to experience the whole set playedwithoutanygapsatallbetweensongsnotevenamillisecondtobreathe. Having said that, they were probably better than The Locust were last week..

And so to the mighty Franz Ferdinand. The album has been glued to my turntable (lodged in the CD drive of my computer has less of a ring, natch?) for some time now, after initial doubts (which mainly centered on bewilderment that they'd re-recorded 'Darts Of Pleasure' for the album, rendering it slightly less fallesque (i.e. less shambolic), and the incessant fear that FF had covered 'Disco Down' by Shed Seven a dozen times) there was no fear that this was going to be anything other than a joy. And so it proved.

The Ferds got a tumultuous reception, starting with a glorious 'Cheating On You' and 'Tell Her Tonight' combo, which emphasised the important vocal role of that bloke on guitar with the dark hair. Quite frankly, it was a stunning start, and the band looked as euphoric as the audience. Alex wittered something about it being hot in here and thanking us for dancing, before announcing that the next one would be 'easy to dance to' and launching into the Top 3 chart smash. The wonderful '40ft' was done before the halfway point and cracking versions of '..Matinee' and 'Michael' (which sounds less of an Interpol ripoff live) were delivered. 'Van Tango' got an airing, which was a shame 'cause it sounds well out of date now..I was hoping for 'All For You, Sophia', but no cigar there I'm afraid. The inevitable 'Shopping For Blood' in the encore and 'Darts Of Pleasure' finale rounded off the gig in great style, leaving the Franz up a step further in my already high estimation. Blimey, it's been a good 7 days for giggage for an oldster like me.

Sunday-style (i.e. Bank Holidays - days of enjoyment which everyone cheers) gigs rock ass. Especially if you make good use of the day. We got to Birmingham around half past four, with doors opening at 7ish. This allowed us to attempt to find unshit bars and swanky restaurants (failure: Hogshead, Pizza Hut) to get pissed and have some decent scran (Success: Beer, Guinness, Turbo Shandy, er..Pepsi Max, and Pizza, Potato Wedges, Salad) and generally become highly relaxed. Top banana.

We eventually headed off to the 'Birmingham Carling Academy', sexily placed just below Argos Extra, but in it's favour it did have a cinema style 'MON: YEAH YEAH YEAHS' classic old-school thingy on the front, so props restored.

We got a) in, b) drinks, and c) in position without knowledge of who the support band(s) were going to be. First up was a hairy fellow with a lab coat, a guitar, some crayzee fx pedal malarkey and a penchant for dem blooz. I didn't realise at the time, but it was in fact Devendra Banhart, who I'm only fleetingly aware of via a few compilations and stuff. He was quite interesting, hardcore blooz inflooences, but his voice was interesting and the fx use was very creative, nice use of delay etc..hmm...grreat.

Next up were The Locust, who played their classic hits 'High Maintenance Libido, Bring the Whle Family', 'Skin Graft at Seventy-Five Miles Per Hour', 'Fixed Companionship, Ghost Town Irrationality', 'Well I'll be a Monkey's Uncle', 'Halo of pubic hair and earwax manufactured for the champion in all of us', '23 lubed up schizophrenics with delusions of grandeur' and 'psst is that a halfie in your pants?'. All of which sludge/grind/death/speed/roar-core malarkey aggrieved da kidz somewhat, who decided to boo 'em heartily. As you might expect from the song titles, there is an element of humour in them, which was revealed when they barracked the crowd with such heckles as 'you'll catch up with our shit in a couple of years, douchebags!' and 'you fucken cahntz!', before the drummer proceeded to vomit into a pint glass and threaten to throw it into the audience, before throwing it over his own head and proceeding to plough into their encore. Classic.

And then, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs...

I've not had such high expectations for a gig for a while. I hadn't seem 'em before, and the album was one of my faves of 2003. The venue was good, great sound and very full. I didn't hear many brummie accents ('Oy rilly loike Kazoo I fink shays love loy'), and due to the appearance of the venue, I constantly thought I was at the old De Monfort Uni Student Union Arena place. Eeeh by gum.

We (me, Pablo, Ted and Chris) positioned ourselves slightly in front of halfway back and slightly left of centre of the floor. It was a decent view (certainly near enough when The Locust were on), but as the set unfolded I couldn't resist the urge to slink forwards a bit, you know, just on the offchance of 'Art Star' turning up somewhere.

As it happened the opener was a newie (I think), and a good'un at that. They then clunked into 'Rich' which rocked ass. Miss Orzalek was in full dynamic feisty stage prowler mode, although she did hide her gusset with a vaguely ladybirdesque catsuit with red accoutrements style outfit in the second half of the show. Nick Guitar Dude was quite transfixing too - it's good to see someone (well, someone other than The Locust) giving their guitar a sound seeing to on stage for a change.

Other highlights were a storming 'Man', a wonderful 'Our Time' (with comedy northern 'It's ow-er taime sherweet beh-beh' bloke-in-the-crowd assistance) a pant-wettingly good 'Art Star' (yay!) and an absolutely gobsmacking so-good-i-nearly-cried-coz-i-was-finkin-baht-me-beyatch 'Maps'. Beautiful.

At the end I was sweaty as fook but happy as Larry, despite the lack of 'Pin', the only 'oh well' of the night really. Superfantastique! Oh, hang on, that's next Sunday intit?...

A slightly late arrival, combined with an intense desire for beer meant we were doomed to miss the start of the mighty Franz Ferdinand's set.

Whilst still gobsmacked from the intense beer cost, which brought to mind London prices, we traipsed up the stairs that take you into the Rock City auditorium and heard THAT RIFF and boy, was that a perfectly timed moment. The Ferds seemed full of beans and bounce and popped out a few album tracks after THE single, finishing with a slightly normalised and less-Fall-ish than the single 'Darts Of Pleasure'. I'll admit, I'd been listening to the odd Ferds track ('Van Tango', 'Cheating On You') and been thinking 'hmmm..raucous blur..hmm..not sure', but there was enough in the short set to asuage those doubts and whet my hairy arse for the return to Rock City in April for their headline date.

Second up were the four non-blonde Von Bondies. I've not been a huge fan, apart from 'It Came From Japan' and 'Cmon Cmon'; they're a bit sludgy and predictable, although Jason Stolivanillaandcoke has a belting voice and decent stage presence. The ginner gal has wrists that are slightly too thin, but has eyes that suggest she may have previously thieved apples out of frivolity. All in all, not much to convert non-Bondies muff'raid.

Third (and for us, last) up were The Rapture. I've always loved 'Out Of The Races And Into The Tracks' (put to great use in 'The Rules Of Attraction', film fans), and the boys buttered my muffins straight off by a rendition of said track. The 'Echoes' stuff I've restrained myself from opinion on. 'Love Is All' is pretty balley lovely, but some tracks make me think 'hmm..technotronic...' in their use of 80/90's dance technology. And Luke Jenner's voice...it can be an acquired taste.

LIVE, however, The Rapture fucking blew me away. His voice is better live than on record; the visceral, scorching 'Heaven', 'The Coming Of Spring', the bouncing 'I Need Your Love', the beautiful 'Love Is All' and euphoric set-closer 'House Of' (di di dur dur) 'Jealous Lovers' (du di di diew) blew the roof off the place and left hapless emocockknockers Funeral For A Friend there for the kiddies. As indeed did we, as we wandered off into the night; slightly sweaty, but highly satisfied with seeing two fantastic and wildly different bands in one night.

I did an exit poll on the way out (dur, obviously).. '..'ere, you not staying for FFAF, mate? ' . The answers; i) 'Well, I'd rather eat my own shit to be honest', and the more diplomatic, and to be frank, unarguable response ii) 'Well, how do you follow The Rapture???'..

A bit late this one, but wtff. The venue was the Nottingham Ice Stadium, and the position was seated. This can hamper any concerto whatsoever, but in a cowshed like the Ice Arena it could have been double bad bollocks. After having queued at a bar which said 'beer only' above it, it was somewhat disappointing to be told that if we went to the bar 10 yards down we could get a pint for a mere £2.40 rather than £4.80. I didn't argue, but I did miss the first two songs, one of which was 'Dead Leaves And The Dirty Ground', which was fuggin' annoying. We were seated back, and to the left. Back, and to the left. Back... . . Anyway, we had a decent view, not too far back, but the luscious Megalino was mildly obscured by some lighting, which sucked. Apart from when she came stage front to bellow out 'In The Cold Cold Night' in a mildly erratic way (bit shouty). She sure is a stone fox though, with legs like velvet and hair like a B52. Meg rox!

It's been said before, and I'll say it once more: for a 2-piece, they make a fair racket, do the Stripeses. I've not a heard a guitar up quite this loud since the 'Second Coming' Stone Roses tour, and boy does Jack do the blues better than Squire. An early set 'Jolene' was a decent treat, as well as a 'Fell In Love With A Girl' that eased down a couple of gears in a nod to the fucking awful remake by that godawful bland waste of space Joss Stone. Any time I worry if I'm getting old, I listen to her, think she's shit and stop worrying. Jeezus. Set highlights, for me, were an amazing 'Death Letter', an AWESOME 'Hardest Button To Button' and the second half couplet of 'You're Pretty Good Looking' and 'Hello Operator' (still one of their best).

My only regret from this fine event was that it seemed to finish early; a storming '7 Nation Army', mind, but still a few 'aww...i wish'-es left unfulfilled. Oh, and due to the seating malarkey and inability to dance, I hand drummed a bit too hard and bruised my legs. Silly billy. Overall, a roister, and another band I want to see in my lifetime finally chalked off.

Pitchfork gives 'Permission To Land' 8.4 in rare moment of admission of genuine enjoyment and enthusiasm. Huzzah!

This pitchfork review of a coupla NWA reissues made me all dewy-eyed and nostalgic. Oh, the good old days...

There's been very few times in my life where someone famous, someone I never knew personally, never even shared a concert hall with, has died and I've instantly cried. Well that happened today.

Johnny Cash has died, aged 71, having survived his wife June by less than four months. He had, from all accounts, thrown himself headfirst into his work since her passing, creating a prolific amount of songs in the time since her death. A recent hospitalisation for a stomach problem was a major alarm bell, but it was the complications from his diabetes that was the end of him.

I remember as a young'un, my dad playing me a little 45 by Johnny Cash called 'What Is Truth?'. It's still one of the most profound songs I've ever heard and it's intimately woven into the fabric of my life.

Lately, the Cash resurgence had been strong. Recent albums were powerful, containing much fantastic material, albeit some of it cover versions. And in one of these covers, his epitaph. The video for 'Hurt' made me cry before, it's going to be about unbearable now.

Let's hope he still flips the finger at the assholes in Country heaven. God bless a truly unique genius, a man of the people with a voice like a god.


"The old man turned off the radio
Said, 'here did all of the old songs go
Kids sure play funny music these days
They play it in the strangest ways'
Said, 't looks to me like they've all gone wild
It was peaceful back when I was a child'
Well, man, could it be that the girls and boys
Are trying to be heard above your noise?
And the lonely voice of youth cries
'What is truth?'

A little boy of three sittin' on the floor
Looks up and says, 'Daddy, what is war?'
'son, that's when people fight and die'
The little boy of three says 'Daddy, why?'
A young man of seventeen in Sunday school
Being taught the golden rule
And by the time another year has gone around
It may be his turn to lay his life down
Can you blame the voice of youth for asking
'What is truth?'

A young man sittin' on the witness stand
The man with the book says 'Raise your hand'
'epeat after me, I solemnly swear'
The man looked down at his long hair
And although the young man solemnly swore
Nobody seems to hear anymore
And it didn't really matter if the truth was there
It was the cut of his clothes and the length of his hair
And the lonely voice of youth cries
'What is truth?'

The young girl dancing to the latest beat
Has found new ways to move her feet
The young man speaking in the city square
Is trying to tell somebody that he cares
Yeah, the ones that you're calling wild
Are going to be the leaders in a little while
This old world's wakin' to a new born day
And I solemnly swear that it'll be their way
You better help the voice of youth find..
'What is truth.'"

Johnny Cash 'What Is Truth?'

The Guardian's Obituary.

"My mamma wants to know
Where I'm spending all my dough
Honey, all she does is nag, nag, nag
But I wont apologize
I'd inject into my eyes
If there was nowhere else to stick my skag

All I want is brown
And I'm going into town
Shooting up as soon as I'm back
My friends have got some good shit
All I want is some of it
Gimme, gimme, gimme that smack

Well, I've ruined nearly all of my veins
Sticking that fucking shit into my arms

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Givin' up, givin' up, givin' a fuck
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh
Givin' up, givin' up, givin' a fuck

Getting off my face
There's a dragon I must chase
Honey I'm the scourge of all mankind
And everyone but me
Is destined just to be
Slaves to the remorseless grind

But I found myself an easy way out
Sticking that fucking shit into my arms
Into my arms..."

The Darkness 'Givin' Up'

Superb.

"I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.
La la la la la, la la.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them..."

Nico 'These Days'

After the wicked Jeff Lewis etc night at The Musician, the following events may be of interest to da kids :

******************************************
Tue June 10 Leicester Sumo £6adv
ADAM GREEN
The Cranebuilders
Dons Mobile Barbers
******************************************

******************************************
Leicester PHOENIX ARTS - The MAGIC TEAPOT Presents:-
Thurs 19 June £10/8
CAT POWER
Entrance
******************************************

******************************************
THE NIGHT WITH NO NAME Presents:-
AT THE SOCIAL, PELHAM ST., NOTTINGHAM

Weds 9th July. £5 adv
KIMYA DAWSON
TOBY GOODSHANK
LARVAL ORGANS
THE WAVE PICTURES
******************************************

Hopefully da cashscraping will enable a visit to one or two of those. It's a shame Cat Power's so expensive, she rocks.

"absurd and sensible
quite unacceptable
let go
pull your leg off
control
out of control

it's the bed wetting thing
that brought us here doctor
it's the bed wetting thing

you tripped
dog on a leash
you had never noticed

nothing to do with me
says he weeing his feet

well it won't go away overnight
but it will go away
in the end

you did such a great job
with the boiler last time
please can you mend my baby
he hasn't moved for three weeks

don't they use coffins
when they are that small
I don't want this
poor thing in my house

sir my chin
has been getting rather hot lately
so lick your chin stand on a tall building in the stiff breeze

don't know what to do
it's saturday night
I seek good advice
from who knows what's right
why don't you ring friends
and go for a few drinks
and then go see a movie

did you prescribe my daughter a pound of heroin
I'm sorry, I can't see, I think I've blinded myself
did you prescribe my daughter pound of heroin
I'm sorry, I can't see, I think I've blinded myself
it isn't a spot, it is a baby
you're not a doctor, you're a wanker..."

Stereolab 'Nothing To Do With Me'

Just because... happy sunny day melodies sometimes don't have happy sunny day lyrics.

Buon estate!

[Misty's Big Adventure, Major Matt Mason USA, Shwervon! and the Jeffrey Lewis Band @ The Musician, Leicester on Sunday 18 May 2003]

To round off the B'day weekend a few of us (Me, Ale, Pablo, Lee, Ted, Katy, Jill, Locklan) went to see the Antifolk night at the Musician, a venue more used to roots/country/folk/americana than these young-uns. The first 'wha-hey' of the night came when I saw the advertisement of the great Kinky Friedman's upcoming date at this very venue, yes sirree.

Misty's Big Adventure were first up. As Grandmaster Gareth (the frontguy) announced, they we're normally a nine-piece, but only 3 of them could make it tonight. There's a frightening picture here if you're inquisitive. A guy with a geetar, a gal with a sax and a bloke banging drums. Best song - 'I'm Cool With a Capital C'. It was nice use of sax that made this rather enjoyable. A pleasant start to the evening. They seem to be from Birmingham although it wasn't immediately clear that they were English.

Next up was a guy who was on the Antifolk tour date last year at Sumo, Major Matt Mason USA. I have to say I wasn't particularly keen last time, but I really enjoyed him this time round, and the stuff he did with Nan Turner as Schwervon! later on in the set was pretty cool as well.

So we were having a pretty good night anyway. And then Jeff Lewis stepped up to the stage. An unassuming figure (a lot of us had seen him before, but didn't recognise him sitting down the front) he looks pretty nervy until he gets his stuff together. But when he gets it together, he's pretty damn amazing. Jeff starts up solo, with just a flip book of drawings to accompany him. His Bro' Jack joins him later on but the flip book videos he does - especially the classic 'Champion Jim' are unbelievably awesome. He stretched out into some new stuff, the highlight (among highlights) of which was a stunning song which involved meeting Will Oldham on the metro and harassing him and getting buttfucked by him when he gets pissed at you. I can't quite put into words how great that song was, except to say 'whooohweee'. Twice.

To my utter joy, we also got a hard kicking version of 'The Man With The Golden Arm' and a rather smart Part Two to 'The Last Time I Did Acid I Went Insane' which may have been called 'We Don't Want No LSD Tonight' or somesuch whimsy.