Helen McCookerybook

Bufff-eh?

2012-02-15T18:32:00.000Z

2012-02-15T08:19:00.000Z

Remembering you today, Dad.

News from the f-Word

2012-02-14T17:04:00.001Z

Many thanks to Cazz Blase at the f-Word for posting this about the Hyde gig:
http://www.thefword.org.uk/blog/2012/02/music_paste_up_8

Fruity Storylet

2012-02-14T07:56:00.000Z

As a little child, Offsprog One could not say 'helicopter': she called them 'heliclo'.
Sh did, however, hugely enjoy eating apricopters.

Art and Rocketts

2012-02-12T21:46:00.002Z

Our gig in Gateshead was lovely: the Shipley Art Gallery is a big airy space, and watched over benignly by paintings, Pauline Murray played a short but sweet set of self-composed songs. She has become much more confident since last year's February gig with Gina and Viv and it was a pleasure to hear her play again. Her whole family had turned up to hear her play: that's her partner Rob (bass player with Penetration), Martin and Pauline over there on the left.
I borrowed Martin's Telecaster to play (the Martin acoustic is playing up and won't give me nice clear bass notes to play although it's going to Brian's shop to get fixed up tomorrow) and felt quite rocky at times; Martin and Fin McCardle joined me for a couple of songs and after a short break Martin played his set which included one of my favourites of his, Nairn Beach. He had his Line 6 radio-controlled DI and wandered round the gallery playing; it was very funny, especially when he caught a punter dozing over his beer and serenaded the poor unsuspecting guy until he woke up with a start! It was an amazing venue to play, everything about it was special. It even has old-fashioned Victorian locks on the doors and the staff were sweet and smiley, the sound was perfectly clear, Shippy the promoter was in very good spirits and it couldn't have been better.

This afternoon, we went to Colin's studio-in-his-garage in Darlington and recorded a couple of tracks with Stephenson's Rocketts. It was great to see the guys again, and with Colin's help we recorded a couple of rockin' tracks, Sugar Hill and Sweet Sally, with Joe Guillan's scorching guitar, John Cavener's steady bass, Martin's energetic rhythm guitar and Keith Shepherd's skittering drums, with Colin at the controls (that's him on the left). He is the lead singer with the Sureshots (Joe's band) and his partner Mandy is a double bass player. What a brilliant band to play with; it's so exciting when we all get going: learn the song, run it a couple of times then record it. We have not all been together in the same room since the Loch Lomond gig in the summer, and we just need Young Johnny's sax and then the songs will be finished.
Spontanaiety, the spice of life!

2012-02-10T20:13:00.002Z

Details about Shipley Art Gallery Gig from...

2012-02-10T20:11:00.002Z

... http://www.twmuseums.org.uk/shipley/

Smiles

2012-02-10T17:58:00.000Z

Shouts to Reni's Cafe on Barnet High Street. What a lovely place to sit and chat over a coffee and a sandwich on a snowy day, with smiling staff and home-made food. Long may they prosper! And at the other end of the street, All Aboard, with the singing sales assistant who gave me a toy helicopter to take home with my 1960s cardi!

Shipley Art Gallery

2012-02-09T22:43:00.002Z

Saturday... Martin and myself have a gig at the Shipley Art Gallery, with a short guest spot from Pauline Murray and percussion from Fin McCardle.
Be there and be a Geordie!

Regrets

2012-02-08T08:03:00.000Z

You know. Last Tuesday, Grayson Perry came to the University of the East, my all-time favourite contemporary artist. I remember the moment of bliss I felt as I walked around the Turner exhibition, and I remember floating on air back home with a big smile on my face.
Alas, I had a seminar scheduled for the very time that he was talking and I spent the afternoon helping students with their CVs. It was so busy iI didn't even have time to imagine myself into the lecture hall.
My Office Pal went and said it was fantastic- she even had a front row seat.
I have, however, managed to get a ticket to the British Museum show and I am looking forward to that with bated breath.

Long Day

2012-02-07T21:42:00.000Z

What a. Time stretched, patience stretched. Half an hour added on to everything at both ends. Fantastic speaker came to talk to students; new students appeared from mystery origins. Students hated me and I loved them back to spite them. Martin cheered me up: gigging together on Saturday in Gatesheed, recording a bit on Sunday with Joe Guillan, John Cavener, Little Johnny and Keith Shepherd.
Cup of tea steaming away, early night, welcome tomorrow in spite of freezing slush!

Great Aunt Ina Plays Banjo in Glasgow

2012-02-06T21:04:00.000Z

Weird

2012-02-06T18:57:00.002Z

The coughsneeze combo: several of these acoustic phenomena today: most peculiar.

Big Up Ben Wilson

2012-02-05T15:34:00.001Z

http://londonist.com/2012/01/benwilso.php

Ben has an 'exhibition' on the streets of Docklands!
I had wondered what he was up to. This is the tiny painting that he did for the cover of Suburban Pastoral.
I didn't realise that no-one would twig how tiny it actually is. It's one of the few left in Barnet where the nasty council ripped up the paving stones after taking him to court. They are absolute philistines.
You can still just about see this by the side of the Old Magistrate's Court on the corner of Normandy Avenue. It has been scuffed by feet but that's sort of the point, according to Ben.
He painted it there because that's where he thought I lived, but I actually lived in Bedford Avenue (though I don't any more) and that's where I wrote all the songs on the album.
Local musician makes local songs and asks local artist to paint picture for cover!
When I listened to them, I heard the songs of a very unhappy and unloved middle aged suburban housewife. And that was me!
Not any more.
Still middle aged though.

Sandie's Film of Mr and Mrs Songsmith

2012-02-05T09:46:00.000Z

Sandie filmed this at the Camden Eye- thank you! This song is going to be on The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses along with two instrumentals, and songs by Martin and myself:

Beachwalk (instrumental)
The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses
Steal You Away
You and Me Time
Samba Blue (instrumental)
All Systems Go!
Mandy Rose
Gaudi's Garden
Sunny and Blue

It's going to be a digipack for private sale only, at gigs and off Martin's mailing list and mine: email me if you would like me to keep you a copy helen_mccookerybook@yahoo.co.uk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GjUf_O75lhU

Something To Do In Hove Tomorrow

2012-02-04T23:22:00.000Z

My friend Kim has been involved in organising this: what a perfect antidote to snowiness and dark skies!
Put on your wellies and gardening gloves and your trousers with inbuilt kneeling pads... or even your sparkling evening wear... think of the spring and the summer; plan for lots of Sunday lunches with your own home-grown vegetables and herbs, flowers for your mothers and your lovers or even just for you.
Alas, I shall be sitting here writing humungously long and intricate lectures. But I do have a little box of tropaeolum that will go into the soil as soon as it's thawed, and some snowdrops just about to emerge, next to a pot of dwarf irises, Katharine Hodgkin ones.
And I will be imagining the green fingered folk of Brighton and Hove pottering around the stalls with steaming mugs of coffee talking nerdy seed-speak (not the same as seedy nerd-speak, I assure you), just as they are imagining future warm days in abundant gardens and allotments......

Gig in Hyde

2012-02-04T20:06:00.000Z

Chefs Release Date

2012-02-04T17:36:00.005Z

23rd April!!!!!

Edinburgh

2012-02-04T17:36:00.000Z

I have just floated back from Edinburgh: Ayr first to do External Examining duties (what an interesting course and what good lecturers!) and then back to fairytale city with its drillings-into-the-road for a tram system that sounds more like a train set than a tram service.
I chatted to a retired Chemistry lecturer and ate shortbread at McMum's gaff, silver hair and gossip aplenty.
The weather has been so beautiful- cold and clear, a bit like the feeling just after you've brushed yer teeth with spearmint.
I should probably work today but I'm not, partly in celebration. The washing machine pump stopped working on Wednesday and I had to head north with a machine full of water and clothes stew. I'd tried to trick it into pumping again but to no avail. This avo, an old-fashioned chap turned up with a toolbox and a moustache and within five minutes had removed a button from the pipe and fixed it; the clothes don't even smell.
Amazing what boring postings I can do, isn't it?

Cold Weather

2012-02-01T14:50:00.003Z

Great leveller- we all look like Big Issue sellers.

Skateboarding Dogs

2012-01-29T16:25:00.000Z

There was a cacophony of barking as I walked along the sunny seafront in Brighton with Offsprog One yesterday. I needed a break and had hopped on a train; stuffed with pasta, we headed along the seafront towards Hove, dodging toddlers and toy dogs on trip-me-up extendable leads.
'Arf arf arf!' barked an excited dog; 'ARF ARF ARF ARF!', barked it's pal.
The two Staffordshire terriers were competing to ride the skateboard and when one of them managed to calm down enough, it could climb aboard and glide along until it's excitement cause it to fall off.

Very funny, very weird, very Brighton!

Technological Determinism

2012-01-29T16:16:00.000Z

I have just spent five hours writing a lecture on technological determinism, and I still haven't finished.
If you don't know, it's an 'ism' that says that everything we do is controlled by the technology that we use to do it, and it sounds ridiculous sometimes and really true at other times.
Technology is really any tool that we use to do things for us, even a stone-age pointed rock that could be used to smash things. All the way from there to the mega-computers...
Technology has changes music greatly. There is a hilariously funny passage in Keith Negus's book Producing Pop about the shock people expressed when they first heard Liszt playing the piano: they simply weren't used to the huge dynamic range and were terrified of the volume when he played loudly. Harpsichords and clavichords were string-pluckers rather than string hammerers, altogether more genteel. And think about how different was before the Walkman and other portable music-listening devices; I know we had little tinny trannies with an earpiece, but the whole concept of piping and entire soundscape into your ears and walking round with it all day completely changed the way people 'consumed' music.
In fact I do wonder whether the penchant for gathering in thousands in warehouses and fields to experience the togetherness of dance music might be an extreme reaction to the isolating ways of listening to music that developed in the 1980s!

Silly David Lammy

2012-01-29T12:15:00.000Z

David Lammy has been a fantastic politician, representing Tottenham where he grew up, and being faithful to his constituents.
What is this I read? That he thinks smacking children will stop them growing up to become rioters?
Pull the other one, David.
Hitting children is violence. If big mum or big dad thwacks you as a child when they don't like what you do, they are teaching you to be violent when things don't go your way.
And how are teachers at school supposed to discipline children who are disciplined by being assaulted at home?
It is very hard to be an adult and not hit your children, to explain what they have done wrong, and in extreme cases to stop their pocket money (they really don't like that).
Throughout my childrens' school life, I have been aware of parents both black and white, both working class and middle class, hitting their children to alleviate their feelings of anger and frustration at their behaviour. It isn't something that has gone out of vogue, believe me!
In fact, I would hazard a guess that the young summer rioters of London probably experience more violence in their homes rather than less.
Shut up, David, please.

Holding Up Lyrics

2012-01-27T18:29:00.002Z

You Heard It Her (!) First

2012-01-27T16:24:00.000Z

Next outing for the gig combo of Gina Birch, Viv Albertine and myself all playing solos is at

THE VERGE,

72 Manchester Road

Hyde, Cheshire

SK14 2BJ

on the 24th March 2012

I will post details of ticket prices and where to get them from as soon as the link is set up

Bits Day

2012-01-27T15:58:00.001Z

Strangely unfulfilling at the time, bits days save on stress further down the line. You go thorough the lists of things you should do, picking off a few while the washing machine is working. You sweep the emails, answering the ones you have been putting aside for later (ten days later, sometimes). You clear floorspace, and what's more, clean up the dust from underneath the stuff you have moved.
You listen to the Zombies and a bit of Aretha Franklin, but not much reggae because on a day when you are doing the housework you suddenly start noticing sexist lyrics (hence only a bit of Aretha Franklin).
You eat a fraction of a chocolate bar, remembering the genius move of leaving half a bar in the fridge to great you when you got back from a long rail journey (but you do know you are going to eat the rest of it later anyway). You survey the ever-increasing bags under your eyes, and say a thankful prayer (aha, yes, Aretha), that usually you don't have any time to look in the mirror and notice.
You think about phoning friends and wonder if you still have any.
You also sit and post something on the blog to avoid the very large pile of bits...
of paper
of bills
of bags of stuff
of pens
of shoes
... and a green peg (?)
still left in the middle of the floor to be sorted out.

Irons 2

2012-01-26T17:40:00.002Z

I have a new iron. It's quite frightening: it's red and white with a menacingly pointy nose.

Irons

2012-01-25T11:06:00.000Z

My car, awash with water, has been diagnosed and is now in recovery. A carwash in Surrey that I got stranded in ('You can't just leave her there!', wailed the next customer, prompting a rescue bid) revealed water pouring in from the bonnet.
I was expecting a mega bill from the garage but got one only in double figures (big ones, though).
I can afford a new iron!
The one I have at the moment was the cheapest that Sainsbury's could suppy.
It has a lead so short that I have to have the ironing board unfeasibly low.
It is top heavy and falls over if left unsupported, smashing everything it comes into contact with into tiny irrepairable smithereens.
It has only two settings: 'Scorch' and 'Slightly Warmer Than Room Temperature'.
The cord doesn't wrap around it properly when I put it away, so it falls out of the cupboard- so frequently and annoyingly that I avoid using the cupboard at all costs. It's the cupboard with cooking vessels, so consequently I avoid cooking. And if I get home from work and the bread is stale so I can't make toast, that means I don't eat.
I just can't let that cheap iron run my life any more!

Martin Stephenson- Rain at the Cluny, 2011 filmed by Helen McCookerybook

2012-01-23T17:50:00.000Z

Warm to the Cool Side: the Group Song

2012-01-23T15:48:00.000Z

Why Aye Man!

2012-01-22T09:30:00.000Z

I pinched this from Tim's Facebook page, because it made me laugh out loud this morning when I wound up my computer!

Interesting Blog

2012-01-21T18:26:00.002Z

I found this music blog via Dickon Edwards' diary- it's magic!
http://www.yrheartout.blogspot.com/

Bardaid Book Launch

2012-01-21T17:15:00.002Z

This is tomorrow (Sunday) from 7.30 p.m.
I'll be on at about 9-ish (actually I've forgotten exactly when but it's some time after that)
It costs £5 and you get a free copy of the book
And Den Hegarty (once of The Darts) will be performing as well as The Anti-Poet and lots of other people.
It's at the Camden Eye, just next to Camden Tube Station.
See you there!

Bankers, bonkers

2012-01-21T12:32:00.000Z

Avery apt misreading of a sentence by a disgraced banker (aren't they all?) this morning.
The word was 'brokered' but I read it as 'bonkered', automatically loading it with pent-up meaning.
See Ian Duncan-Smith last night, talking about shaving money off the benefits given to the poorest members of our Big Society? What sort of hell is this we are creating?

Chet Baker

2012-01-20T15:19:00.000Z

De boop boop boop boop
Yeah yeah baby!
It's Chet Baker, singing in the background as I prevaricate as usual....
De boop boop boop boop
Parp! There goes his trumpet, mellow and swingin'....
De boop boop boop boop.
Pingle dingle piano frills
Absolutely frilling darling....
Time for tea
'A breeze caresses me'....
Hang on a minute! It's January outside: how come summer's crept in to the house?
De boop boop boop boop
A blue note or two
Where's my cocktail dress?
Why haven't I got one?
I could wear it for jazz moments
Even though I don't drink
Cocktails.

Sums It Up Neatly!

2012-01-20T12:28:00.002Z

http://www.collapseboard.com/blogs/erika-meyer/things-to-consider-when-adding-a-female-to-your-band/

Sophisticated Lady

2012-01-20T09:45:00.000Z

I have just inadvertently worn my new woolly Ralph Lauren hat (bought at T.K.Maxx yesterday) to the supermarket with the label hanging out, declaring 'Reduced to £6.00'.

Ten Girl Power Anthems

2012-01-20T09:04:00.000Z

... and one of them is by The Raincoats!
http://www.spinner.com/2012/01/19/best-girl-power-anthems/

Stealing

2012-01-20T08:40:00.000Z

For two summers running, I have had dolls stolen from my office at the University of the East.
First to go was my set of Spice Girls (boxed, but not inhabiting their box). They were cheap, which is what I loved about them, and their heads were so huge in proportion to their bodies that they used to topple over, especially Sporty Spice, who had her leg kicked up either in abandon or a ju-jitsu pose.
Was it a summer deep-cleaner, who fancied the toys for their niece or grand-daughter?
Next summer, color-change Ken disappeared. I had been given him as a joke by the Offsprogs' childminder; I'd told her that I fancied Ken and for Christmas that year she gave him to me; he was dressed in blue nylon trunks and when you put him in water his streaked blond hair went dark brown.
The trunks got lost in toy soup on the girls' bedroom floor and he ended up dressed in a fetching red sock on my window sill.
Well, Ken went last summer, as did my Office Pal's PhD (what a strange combination!).
It's horrible when you have stuff stolen. You think you have put it somewhere in a moment of absent mindedness; you retrace your steps, you look down the sides of furniture. Then you start to dread looking for it. I looked in the empty Spice Girls box about five times before I understood that they were not going to re-materialise.
'Tell Estates and Facilities', advised a colleague.
What a prat I would have felt!
I wish I could spirit them back, not because they were valuable, but because I want the person or persons who nicked them not to have done it in the first place!

Jumpers

2012-01-19T20:52:00.001Z

Mmm delicious.
Just been mixing jumpers with onions from Sunday's reheated curry, by washing them in the kitchen sink. The onions floated up from the drainer where they had embedded themselves, waiting for their moment of glory.

The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses

2012-01-19T15:28:00.000Z

The CD is almost complete; we listened last night before Martin returned to Ross-shire. There are ten tracks, two of which are instrumentals. It is a holiday record,a little bit 1960s, a little bit cocktail lounge and a little bit bucket and spade too. With a pinch of romance thrown in!
The Chefs CD will be out in February and I will be making a lo-fi small release solo album within the next two months.

Back to Work

2012-01-19T11:34:00.000Z

The car is awash with water: I paddle as I drive and the lights won't go off. Am I stuck here in Docklands, I wonder? My office is full of Christmas clementines, dried and shrivelled, plus two forks.
In the peace of my office (the students aren't back yet), I sit and collect the scattered brain cells and Important Papers, looking at this screen through rested spectacles.
Yum yum- tha canteen! Half an hour to chips for lunch.
Not bad, not bad.

Pix

2012-01-18T22:26:00.002Z

Writing the group song; with Chris Difford; Martin works with Nigel and Brew; tired but happy at the end of a good working day.
All done and dusted: what a lovely bunch of people. Funny, charming, enthusiastic and talented, I couldn't have asked for a better group to work with. Now I'm looking forward to hearing the mixed and mastered tracks!

The Songwriting Course

2012-01-16T22:16:00.000Z

Phew... what an interesting and intense experience! Tomorrow is our recording day, eight songs from eight people. We listened to Chris Difford (Squeeze) and the publisher Paulette Henry today, looking at songs from two different directions, and tidied up arrangements and lyrics.
I'm off the the land of nod; on Saturday I went to bed at 8.30 p.m. and slept for eleven hours!

The Daintees at Crouch End

2012-01-14T19:58:00.000Z

King's Head Crouch End

2012-01-14T09:19:00.002Z

Brilliant surprise Daintees gig last night: will post more and a pic later!

The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses

2012-01-12T18:33:00.001Z

Here is a link to Martin's website for info about our new release!
http://www.martinstephenson.me.uk/Site/NEW_RELEASES.html
You can listen to Beachwalk and The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses here:
http://www.martinstephenson.me.uk/Site/Podcast/Podcast.html
...plus some of Martin's songs from his new album California Star.

Scottish Money

2012-01-12T17:11:00.000Z

Sorry North London Hospice Charity Shop, but Scottish fivers ARE real money. Your excuse that you can't scan it doesn't wash- you have never, ever scanned any English currency I have passed to you. The manager you called needs to know this too, otherwise you will lose custom.

The Sound of Music

2012-01-12T12:01:00.001Z

Of course, in the 1970s everyone mocked. So a group of film students from Brighton Polytechnic went along to see it- probably the equivalent of today's young Shoreditch-Laptop Trust-fund-in-waiting types, all ready to deride the film with barbed phrases.
Afterwards they emerged, dazed, into the sunshine of the seafront.
'It is the perfect film', they enthused, 'Just perfect'.
Many years later, I was involved in a heated argument with a normally unheated theatre director who had asked me the name of my favourite musical. 'It's Absolute RUBBISH', he declared. I defended it with just as much vim. I met him some time later: he had just taken his daughters to see it.
'Perfectly brilliant', he admitted. 'Great songs!'.
I think The Sound of Music and Oliver! are both amazing examples of songwriting for musicals. I have always loved these shows, which of course are now vintage, and really not liked Andrew Lloyd Webber's sonic stranglehold on the West End.
I am hunting for a contemporary equivalent to these oldies as we speak.

Caroline Coon

2012-01-12T08:17:00.000Z

Take a look at Caroline's paintings- I particularly like her documentary paintings of the area around Ladbroke Grove. She is unique as an artist and there are secrets locked within her work: time we saw an exhibition! No-one else is observing on canvas the way London's street life changes over the years.
http://www.carolinecoon.com/gallery.htm

Jigsaws

2012-01-11T18:07:00.000Z

Sometimes life seems like assembling a picture from pieces from ten different jigsaws.

Rosie and Lily Do Freight Train

2012-01-10T19:39:00.002Z

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=odFY7DZfdO4

Birdge

2012-01-10T16:20:00.000Z

On my way to work, a creeping headache sneaks in, alongside the familiar ring of anxiety dyslexia.
I wait at a red traffic-light, next to a dark old bridge stained and streaked with pigeon-poo. There is a defaced notice on it, the words almost obliterated by smears of urban guano.
'Birdge', I read, anxiety-dyslexiacally. Good name for a city bridge, under the circumstances: every neighbourhood has its stenching quota of pigeon-fragranced railway bridges.

Album

2012-01-09T22:14:00.000Z

I think Martin and myself have almost finished our next album, which we completed last week (probably!). There was a rush of late song writing that produced You and Me Time (Martin) and Beachwalk (Helen) and we just have to put all the songs together and see if they work as a whole idea. It is going to be entitled The Cafe of Tiny Kindnesses, named after a waitress we saw in a cafe in Barcelona who had a gentle and compassionate way of working, making sure that everyone was happy without intruding, and seeming to know how to behave with solitary people sitting nursing one coffee in a cloud of sadness.
It has taken more than a year to record; Martin has had a very productive year (California Star is nearly completed), and I spent most of last summer organising photographs for the book and tracks for The Chefs CD. Sometimes it's good to take a bit of time; songs have to feel right and match up to each other, and we have both rejected a couple of our own songs after writing more suitable ones.
Martin is playing at The King's Head in Crouch End this Friday, his yearly January solo gig. It is always a very special night. Come on down if you want a bit of winter warmth!

Heart and Soul Surgery in Hackney

2012-01-09T11:28:00.002Z

Pavement Poetry, Inverness

2012-01-08T22:27:00.000Z

2012-01-08T20:22:00.000Z

Phew. Been in Ross-shire, recording and relaxing. Back.

Mysterious Grindings

2012-01-06T10:09:00.003Z

I have my nose to the grindstone, grinding mysterious grindings...

Splash!

2012-01-03T17:42:00.000Z

Down at the Docklands Campus today, the rain was lashing the windows like a Special Effect from an Alistair Maclean movie, back in the day. The wind thrashed the concrete, and the water in the dock was pulled and punmmeled into grey, frothing waves of an alarming height.
I imagined a tsunami rolling down the Thames, unhindered by the Thames Barrier, sweeping the aircraft from London City Airport in its wake; the University of the East would find itself in water up to its knees and I would be trapped there for a day or two, sustained only by a banana, two clementines and a small quantity of Floral Gums (bought in Crieff from the sweetie shop) that I have squirrelled away for... a rainy day.

Crack!

2012-01-02T20:57:00.002Z

Gremlinface

2012-01-02T13:16:00.000Z

A greyish, gremlin's face peers at me in the mirror (accidentally typed as 'morror', a cross between mirror and horror, most appropriate). Yes readers, it is mine. It got up at 6, roused Offsprog Two, loaded her into the car minus her packed lunch and drove her around the labyrinthine streets of Victoria at dawn, finally decanting her on to a double yellow line at Victoria Coach Station with a pinch of swearing and a sniff of thanks.
The car has leaked during the holiday period and smells pungently of Wet Mat, in spite of/because of being blasted by the car heater at every possible opportunity. The removable mats have been removed and placed in the washing machine but have now evolved into exotic flat black artworks, bent and twisted in a joy of expressionistic pain, and unfittable back in place. Anyway, the crumpled car park receipts, used tissues and blue water bottle tops on the floor of the car make replacing them and impossible task. A serious valet job is on the cards but I'm too out of pocket at the moment. If only I could trade surplus Christmas chocolates for the necessary labour!
Me and WetMatCar went visiting at breakfast time and my very kindly South London Friend made strong coffee that we drank in the kitchen. Even their dog wasn't up yet; it shambled in an hour later half-heartedly asking for a pat before it went back to bed.
Back home, the marking pile is dwindling (48 done, three to go plus a half-day of listening to recorded songs); the house is empty once again. The Christmas tree will be decommissioned tomorrow (alas!) and the battle to get the local council to collect it will commence. Toothbrushes have multiplied in the bathroom (how come two daughters produce five toothbrushes?), precious essences have disappeared; the fridge is empty once more and their room is strewn with plastic bags and wrapping paper (plus half a bottle of rum that didn't feed the New Year's vomitorium at an unfortunate friend's house in Kentish Town).
The gremlin ponders Christmas. Easier than last year in some ways (no shouting), harder in others (car problems and health problems too).
All in all, Not Too Bad.

Two Versions of Freight Train (Not My One)

2011-12-31T23:00:00.001Z

Elizabeth Cotton aged 92- who wrote the song when she was 12 years old; and Nancy Whiskey with the Chas McDevitt Skiffle Group.
Thank you Martin for telling me about her, and for sending this link too, where Elizabeth Cotton is with Pete Seeger http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NdKvEiW7cWc&feature=related

Opposite the Blue Cat, Stockport, Christmas 2011

2011-12-31T21:57:00.000Z

Andrew 'Guitar Weekends' Bailey; self; Martin Stephenson; John Steel; Kate Stephenson; Lou Short.
What a gang!

The Nutcracker at Sadler's Wells

2011-12-31T20:51:00.000Z

Over the holidays I took Offsprog One and Offsprog Two to see Matthew Bourne's Nutcracker at Sadler's Wells.
Even the venue is perfect for a Christmas break, because it is not too large or posh and the three of us were in various stages of glamitude depending on how frequently or rarely we have a nightlife. Every year we go to the ballet and every year we say 'We must go to the theatre and ballet more often', and every year we don't, so our garb tends to be rather motley.
Last year's production (Cinderella) had recorded music which was a bit disappointing, but there was an orchestra this time (or at least a man with a bald head conducting, which could of course have been pretend).
I have seen Bourne's version of The Nutcracker twice, and the first time I enjoyed the second half best; this time, it was the first half that I liked best: the land of black, white and grey that showed off the dancers' personalities to such good effect. Bourne's company are as light as feathers on their feet and as supple as fresh blades of grass; they fold up, unfold, blow about, and whisk here and there as though they have magic in their veins instead of blood. Their feet land with a whisper and they float past each other as though their bodies weigh precisely nothing, although they must because they have real muscles and look like real people instead of pale spindly (but beautiful) giraffes in the way that classical ballet dancers do. (no spots, of course. Nor horns. Or manes. Not a good comparison at all, really).
They have expressions too: nearly all have big features and they act with their faces and acknowledge the audience, which is something that classical dancers never do, so we were in on the act from the beginning.
I lusted after one of the grey smocks that the girls in the orphanage wore (so stylish!), and I could have leapt up and joined in the dancing at any point; I'm sure I could have managed somehow even though I am a lapsed yoga-ist and dance in a surprisingly elephantine manner for one so formerly slim.
'Our Father', they mimed with big wide mouths as they said their prayers, knelt at the side of their beds. Matron was terrifying and pointy, goose-stepping around the stage in a striped shirt and severe skirt that must have been a nightmare to dance in.
The main male lead looked surprisingly like Will Young, who I believe was at one time Matthew Bourne's partner. Bless! He was a fab dancer, and this being a Bourne ballet we saw a lot of his bare chest. He partnered both Clara and the Sugar Plum Fairy with aplomb (ha ha).
The sweeties in the second half were just as good as the last time I saw this ballet, all vibrant colours and nightclub personalities, and when the whole thing was finished I wanted it to begin again because it was so nice to be somewhere away from the bustle of Christmas, visiting a colourful and energetic version of dreamland for an evening.
It wasn't till I got home and spotted the birthday present the Offsprogs had given me, a big wooden nutcracker in the shape of a very red and pink General with a white fluffy beard and big gnashers that I realised that there hadn't been a nutcracker in the ballet at all. Amazing.

How Weird

2011-12-31T13:44:00.002Z

I marked almost 30 student papers yesterday, back to back, and I actually enjoyed it.
Now, that is really weird.

Martin Stephenson on Stageit Tonight

2011-12-30T18:41:00.003Z

Martin's on at 9.30 p.m. www.stageit.com
Ally Macleod is on at 8.15

To the Cheese Football

2011-12-30T18:33:00.001Z

Oh
The sweet footfalls
Of Cheese Footballs

Delicate wafers
With
Textures like paper;
Globes of paste
With a neutral taste;
Fawny-pink
With an acrid stink.

Oh how I adore
Them
Now I want
More
More!
MORE!!!

Cones, Rain

2011-12-30T12:35:00.000Z

Just around the corner from Russell Square. Lovely.

Rose

2011-12-29T19:16:00.000Z

As I unloaded the basket at the supermarket checkout, this rosebud was stuck into the wire at the bottom.

I offered it to the checkout assistant but she declined, so here it is in the kitchen at my house.

What I Have Learned This Christmas

2011-12-29T11:39:00.002Z

That a prominent female family member tucks cracker jokes into her bra for later.

Bardaid Book Launch: 22nd January in Camden

2011-12-29T11:18:00.002Z

RRRANTS present: 'THE BIG BARDAID BOOK' LAUNCH PARTY!
Sunday the 22nd of January from 7.30pm at The Camden Eye, 2 Kentish Town Rd, Camden NW1 (opposite Camden tube)~
A festival of poetry and music to salute the publication of our new charity anthology. With DEN HEGARTY, PAUL LYALLS, HELEN McCOOKERYBOOK, THE ANTIPOET and more!!
£5 entry includes a copy of the book!
For details www.rrrants.com 07921764712 paul@rrrants.com

Good Luck

2011-12-28T12:13:00.002Z

Good luck to my friend today who is having a liver transplant. I am thinking of you, crossing my fingers, praying, everything it takes because you so deserve a second chance. Lots of love!

2011-12-28T12:11:00.000Z

This is an old Helen and the Horns set list from nearly 30 years ago sent by Ian Pritchard. Could still play most of these, i think: like 'one helluvan impro'; was this one of the trumpet players?

The Vehement Temperance Officer

2011-12-28T10:55:00.000Z

Grrr! There is nothing worse than ME, the person-who-used-to-get-off-her-face-on booze-and-has-now-given-up.
Yes, you see, I can identify a p*ss artist at 100 paces. All the way down the road to Big Bruv's yesterday, the seriously hung over (and still p*ssed) were driving as though they were pedestrians (p*ssed ones at that).
'Oh, I think I'll cross the road', they would think spontaneously.
Indicators? Those complex pieces of technology that require massive muscular effort to put into operation (let alone hugely taxing brain activity)? Why no! Just make a dash for it, you'll be fine. It's up to the driver behind to take evasive action, innit?
Meanwhile, the driver behind is 'negotiating' Trendy Daddy on his new Christmas bicycle, sure in his heart that he'll never be breathalysed on a velocipede. Santa didn't bring any lights, so he's surviving in the dark on a dynamo. But Trendy Daddy's pedal power is as erratic as his steering and the dynamo flickers intermittently with a sigh of resignation. Suddenly, Trendy Daddy decides to do a U-turn!
In his mind he is skilfully manoeuvring his new piece of kit in front of Gemma Arterton, who is watching him from the opposite pavement, clad only in an Agent Provocateur neglige; alas, in real life he is wobbling precariously in the path of an angry woman an a small but popular German car.
Whoops! Another car has just hopped out, indicating left while pulling out to the right and hopping back into the next parking space down.
Suddenly, a boy-racer undertakes impatiently.
... and another one! They must have just passed their tests before Christmas and now they are celebrating with the boy race to end all boy races, perhaps quite liderally.
The Vehement Temperance Officer tuts crossly. How disappointed she is in the Human Race!
She recently calculated that thus far in her life she has spent around £30,000 drinking, and is happy to be able to add the occasional pair of shoes to her wardrobe these days.
She doesn't get invited to as many parties as she used to although she doesn't mind other people drinking around her, as that would be a mite hypocritical!

Chomp

2011-12-27T11:05:00.000Z

Eh?

2011-12-27T10:11:00.000Z

According to the Guardian birthdays column, Mick Jones (formerly of The Clash) is 70 today.
Wow, he looks good for his age!
(I was looking as it's my birthday tomorrow and I wanted to see who else is a Capricorn. I will be 85, since you ask!)

Shippy and Me

2011-12-26T15:26:00.000Z

It was a bit chilly in Gatesheed on Christmas Eve!

Chairman Ralph's Blog Review/Interview

2011-12-26T15:24:00.002Z

This is about The Lost Women of Rock Music: www.chairmanralph.com

Festive Martin Drinks Coffee in Glasgow

2011-12-26T15:19:00.000Z

Daintees Gigs at the Cluny

2011-12-26T15:15:00.000Z

My phone has managed to delete some of the films I made, though I did see the DJ Buddha filming from the Royal Box; I think Rain worked out but there's not enough room on this computer to download it, and until Offsprog One has finished writing her thesis on the kitchen table I can't get to the other one.
They were two wonderful gigs; at the second one the audience sang almost all the way through and were actually pogoing at one point, something they never did back in the day, according to Martin. People had travelled from all over: Terri and Graham travelled from Surrey for the first night and we did The Airship Song for them. Paul Keveney came from Spain, with his partner Louise. On the second night, Shippy supported with Keith on drums (who drums for Stephenson's Rocketts. Martin sat in with Shippy, sporting a Santa hat. Even though Shippy's glitter antlers fell off halfway through, they turned in a great set.
The band had rehearsed Trouble Town just before the gig, so that was a rare track pulled out of the bag as a treat for the audience. It was another stormin' set; I believe there is a serious tour in the offing for next year, plus of course the release of California Star. The band is more than ready to hit the road!
Now it's Boxing Day and I have eaten so much my body is bending over backwards. Fin says I don't write enough about what the music sounds like when I write about bands; I said that when I wrote about the Green Gartside gig in Dalston my notes (loads of them) looked really pretentious but I will find them and post them when I have got through some of the marking mountain (not today as it's a day off).
However...
Acton Bell: she has a very high, clear voice and she sings with a Bolton accent, which is totally charming. She strums her guitar in a simple way and uses simple chord shapes but her sense of rhythm is solid and there is a knowing irony behind her innocence. People always sing along with her. Because she doesn't decorate the songs or try to be clever (she sings a lot of Searchers songs), there is plenty of space for people to enjoy them in their unadorned form.
The Anti-Poet: this is a duo consisting of Ian on double bass and Paul on poetry. They are comical and sometimes rather rude (there is a poem/song called Tights or Fishnet Stockings, that the audience seems to like a lot). They have a fantastic sense of timing: the double bass is almost like another member of the band, and they are extremely funny when they build up excruciatingly embarrassing situations and hit you between the eyes with a punchline! They both wear skirts, or kilty sorts of things anyway, that are suspiciously leathery-looking. But that's not anything to do with the music is it?
I can't remember who else I have played with recently.

Sometimes I don't write about stuff if there is something I don't like about it; there was one gig where one of the performers was so big-headed I couldn't think of anything nice to say.
Sometimes I have been too darn busy (especially writing new lectures since September) and sometimes I sit down to write about a gig I have been to and write about something entirely different.
Sometimes, nothing has happened. People say that I seem busy, but there are a lot of days when I just wander about from room to room with a cup of tea and smile at my house.
Millions of those days, in fact, so I pump up the exciting days to monstrous proportions. There are also a few thousand days when really horrible things happen (whacking great fines that I can't afford, medical problems and scary things too) but I choose not to dwell on those too much because when I first started blogging I decided that it was going to be a positive blog (or just shut up).
Anyway, that's enough rambling for today: Merry Boxing Day, thank you for reading, thank you for commenting and enjoy those chocolates your Nan/Kids/Partner/Friend gave you!
And keep your fingers crossed that we get Martin's car back on the road tomorrow...

Travelling

2011-12-25T16:54:00.000Z

I'm writing this from a service station at Newport Pagnell and I thought I'd ruminate about the current incarnation of the Daintees. They have got better and better over the past few months with a steady personnel, and they are consolidating into a really punchy band; they have developed that psychic ability to guess what each other is going to do, and they are making each other get even better, which I don't think I've ever seen a band do before.
The first night at the Cluny is normally reasonably full, but this time around it was packed out with a listening audience. This was great for me because I did a set to begin with and I felt that they gave me a good listen! Next up was Paul Handyside (who used to be on Hurrah!) who did a country-inspired set which showed off his deep and powerful voice to great effect; he was accompanied by a lap steel player and the blend of lap steel and acoustic guitar was a great sound....
(continued tomorrow: home now... 12 hours back from Newcastle yesterday: makes you appreciate four walls, a roof and a big bar of chocolate!)

Cluny

2011-12-24T11:34:00.002Z

Stormin' Daintees gigs at the Cluny- packed out both nights- made some little films.

Southwark Cathedral

2011-12-21T22:27:00.001Z

Back home from Southwark Cathedral Carol Concert (no prayers so suitable for the atheists that stuff British Churches these days trying to get their kids into Church schools).
What a choir! They sing with proper voices, not mismsy-pimsy chorister voices, perfectly in tune and they are so well rehearsed! Their belting singing style adds a lot of energy to the music and makes it really dynamic; they have a lot of John Rutter's compositions in their repertoire and he's an ace tunesmith.
It was sold out but me and my Champagne Friend lurked in the cafe (there's quite a scene in that caff!) until it had started and then managed to get the last two returns.
Unlike a normal carol service, we were an audience and we clapped, although we also sang (O Come All Ye Faithful and The First Nowell to start off with) and stared at the innards of the Cathedral, which is like being inside and enormous and elegant sandstone whale, as we did so.
It was worth the twelve quid for the peace and the beauty and definitely worth getting tickets for next year.
Afterwards we walked to London Bridge Station through the towers of mammon, being built as high and shiny as they can go, just to show Southwark Cathedral how important money is. And they are building at night, by spotlight, to heighten the clanging drama of it all, with lots of men in hard hats and orange jackets looking Urgent and Important.
What would Chaucer have thought?
Twenty years ago in my naive cheek I phoned the Cathedral to ask them if I could use it to stage the big-band version of The Nun's Preeste's Tale that I had written. Ho ho! I still have it somewhere in a home-made folder, arranged for about 20 instruments (according to a jazz person I 'ran it by', it works).
As a greedy child, McMum used to scold that my eyes were bigger than my stomach; I think the same could have been said for my youthful aspirations.

Newcastle Gigs

2011-12-21T13:30:00.002Z

Just getting ready to head for Newcastle tomorrow: the fab Cluny gigs, with the Daintees who are on top form at the moment. Have to do the housework. In an hour, perhaps.
Meanwhile, something to think about for January, The Premises Songwriting course with a masterclass by Chris Difford from Squeeze, and Paulette Henry to give industry advice; I will be the main tutor.
See www.premisesstudios.com

Workload: Marking this Christmas

2011-12-20T21:02:00.001Z

30x1000 words=30,000
26x1000 words=26,000
3x5000 words=15,000
Total=71,000

After Christmas, I think.

Sheet Music for Cone Players Has Only Two Lines Instead of Five

2011-12-20T14:05:00.002Z

The Poet's Tale

2011-12-19T17:25:00.000Z

I was showing the cover of Suburban Pastoral to Biff Smith (of the excellent band the Starlets, who supported The Daintees in Glasgow), when a poet came up and heard my story about the chewing-gum painter, Ben Wilson, whom I had commissioned to paint the little lawnmower picture on a blob of squashed chewing gum on the pavement.
He told us that as a boy in Glasgow, he and his friend used to pick the dried chewing gum off the pavement and by gnashing it with a lot of little chews on their back teeth, they could revive whatever minty flavour was left. If one of them had something to do, the other would store his gum under his upper lip for him to keep it soft, meanwhile carrying on his own chewing activity in the main mouth.
Apparently once his friend, while storing his gum for him in this way, had been offered the rare treat of a handful of peanuts by a pal round the corner, which he scoffed in delight.
So when he handed the chewing gum back, it was studded with tiny fragments of chewed up peanut.

Car Radio Clock Says Time For Gig

2011-12-19T14:33:00.000Z

Punk and Beyond

2011-12-17T18:47:00.001Z

Whizzed down to the last day of this today: Charlie Harper was due to play this avo. The exhibition was curated by Gaye Black (aka Gaye Advert from the Adverts) and featured some really good stuff- I particularly liked Gaye's collages, the photographs by Ray Stephenson and Ian Dickson, Penny Rimbaud's painting and Eve Libertine's etchings.
http://londonist.com/2011/11/punk-art-preview-punk-and-beyond-signal-gallery.php
Photo shows one of Gaye's artworks.

Newport Pagnell in a Nutshell

2011-12-17T18:23:00.001Z

I wish I knew Elton John's private number: I'd get him to bung ten grand or so towards The Watershed Cafe to fix their heating, pay some wages to the guys and give them a bit of a cushion to help them through the recession!
The cafe is positively Narnia-esque, hiding at the end of an eau-de-nil painted arcade in Newport Pagnell and demonstrating an enlightened attitude to both bands and audiences. In the summer, Acton Bell, the Anti Poet and myself played to an audience of fairly p*ssed teenagers, who absorbed the whole lot with bemused awe and then came up and talked to us all about it afterwards: quizzing the Anti Poet about their lyrics, Acton Bell about her cover versions and me about my guitar playing.
This time around, festooned in scarves, a bunch of people who had left the age of fifty behind a few years ago sat in the cold (broken heating system and not enough money to fix it) singing along to Herman's Hermits with wistful gusto, and soon warmed the atmosphere with their good will.
Wilky and Foolish Girl were both there, and so was Jim From Work (old work) who now works at the Open University and posts a lot of pictures of geese on his Facebook page. Indeed, we indulged in a riff about feeding the squirrels (of which there are also plenty, he assures me) to the geese and fattening them up for Christmas.
Andy, the genial and almost regal cafe proprietor who was presiding over a mega-plate of mince pies, told me that Attila the Stockbroker had reduced his audience there to tears with his poem about dementia, and he had gone to the local care home to deliver it to the relatives of dementia patients as a result.
Acton Bell, as Andy observed, has gained in confidence a lot since our last gig and she played three of her own songs this time, all of which held up well in her set of covers. Piece de resistance was Mull of Kintyre, which was fine without the bagpipes marching across the sand.
We did wonder if they auto-appeared when Sir Paul was on holiday about the place, say in Majorca trying to have a discreet sunbathe with the proles. Could be a mite embarrassing.
My fingers were too chilly to play Christmas Queen, although I thought through it privately in my head for the occasion. But I put in a full set anyway, debuting Mr and Mrs Songsmith, and joined for Heaven Avenue, Loverman and Freight Train by Ian and Paul (the Anti Poet) on double bass and washboard respectively. Their manager wasn't there (get well soon, Donna!) so they did a poem I haven't heard before which described some of the poets they sometimes put on at the Rrrants events. The chorus was 'What the f*ck, what the f*ck, what the f*ck, What the f*ck was that?'.
Actually reader, I laughed out loud as I am convinced I myself have watched these poets at their events, and recognised them quite clearly.
'Did they leave the verse out about me?', I wondered paranoidly. Bit naughty of them, but bit funny, too.
So it was goodbye to Wilky, Foolish Girl and Jim from Work; we will be back in six months and my New Year wish is for the council to start subsidising The Watershed, a little gem of imagination and anarchy in the cosy Home Counties.
Pic: the Anti Poet

Pool Table, Woodend Tennis and Bowling Club

2011-12-16T19:26:00.000Z

On The Road

2011-12-16T11:24:00.001Z

Railroad, that is. Glasgow is grey and chilly, but last nights gig was colourfual and warm, and there is the Watershed gig to report on...
However, I'll spare you the iPhone typos for today.
If you are anywhere mead the Haberdashery cafe in Squatters Bottom (Crouch End, of course), there are s whole bunch of us playing 3 songs each, in aid of a local charity. My slot is 9.30, but the music starts at 7.30

Overheard on Bus: Teenage Boy With Loud Voice

2011-12-14T17:30:00.002Z

'Hey, is Armania a fashion brand or a country?'.

Christmas Tree

2011-12-14T09:12:00.000Z

Was just deciding that this year it's not worth getting one (kids left home).
So I have just walked home carrying a five-foot fattie, heavy as hell and prickly as a teasel, getting weaker by the second and resting it on walls and my knees.
A woman in a car that passed me had a jolly smile when she saw my festive burden.
Then for some reason I had a surge of strength and was ready to josh with the pole-sorting scaffolder who was suffering from the cold, just as I got to the doorstep.

Kate Nash's Rock'n'Roll Club For Girls

2011-12-14T08:39:00.000Z

http://www.collapseboard.com/features/columns/kate-nashs-rock-n-roll-for-girls-after-school-club/2/
From Collapseboard, a lively online journal/blog/conversation run by Everett True, creator of the now resting PlanBmag and once editor of the Melody Maker.

Merry Catmas!

2011-12-13T18:19:00.002Z

Daycrap

2011-12-13T14:43:00.000Z

What a crappy day! Drenched floor and feet when bringing in emptied recycling boxes (design criteria include 'lid must not fit'). Could not access University of West account for urgent emails, and printer refusing to print (says it has no ink but it has) so can't print out assessments from the University of the Middle (one of which crashes the Word program, anyway). Decided to drive to Docklands, on M25 to avoid traffic jams. Huge traffic jam on M25. Computer there would neither access Hotmail nor Webmail. Waste of time. Drove home straight away. Another huge traffic jam on M25. Bought cheat's Biriyani in supermarket despite vow never to eat food cooked in that way. Do not possess strength to pierce film lid.
Aaaaaaaaaarghhhhhhhhh!

Watershed on Wednesday

2011-12-12T21:47:00.000Z

If you're coming to the Watershed Cafe in Newport Pagnell on Wednesday (can you come Foolish Girl?) feel free to learn the backing vocals to the Christmas Queen. It's there on the player }}}}}}}}}}}}}}}
Then I will have to sing it. I can never remember the words but I am trying to, right now.
Acton Bell and the Naked Poet will be there too and it is going to be just as much fun as the last time we all played there!
It is a brilliant place worth coming to for the vintage video games alone.

Friday Night in Dalston

2011-12-12T21:03:00.001Z

I was a bit late. I had driven part of the way with no headlights, and I had been wondering why there were so many invisible people crossing the road in the dark; and then I discovered that I'd run out of screen wash and I spent seven quid on a tiny bottle of diluted stuff, a thimbleful, just-in-case.

The Queen Victoria in Dalston was heaving; in the front part, elderly Nigerian men played pool while scruffians of a certain age nimbly sidestepped them in a thirst-driven pilgrimage to the bar.
I had missed Alex (the first act) but got there in time for Robyn Hitchcock, who was utterly unlike what I had imagined him to be. Perhaps because he is called Robyn, (a rural moniker if ever there was one) I had pictured him as a whiny folk artist and was preparing patience to tolerate his set with, when he burst into a batch of acoustic psychedelic songs sandwiched between quips: 'This is what the Beatles would have sounded like if they were us', and 'If you could weight trips, this would be a heavy one'. He was also wearing a pop stars' shirt and had a slightly off-beat hairstyle. He was decidedly unpolished and surprisingly entertaining, almost a one-man Yardbirds. Green and Rhodri joined him on stage for his final song, Tarantula.
There was no dressing room, and the hall itself was magically scruffy. Above the heads of the audience, last year's mistletoe hung, dried to a crisp. Several burst pink balloons dripped forlornly from the ceiling, taped on with criss-crosses of sellotape that were giving up the ghost, presumably dissolving after months of sweat-evaporation from the audience below. There were mysterious black criss-crosses of gaffa tape and drifts of yellow post-it notes on the walls. The performers mingled with the audience and after a few minutes Green took to the stage along with his band and to a rousing cheer, kicked the set off with The Sweetest Girl, a short but sweet version, which proved to be the order of the evening (hooray! I like short pop songs!). At the end, 150 people gave the cheer of a 2000-strong football crowd, and the evening carried on in much the same way. Green was also in the mood for chatting. He told us that his manager had sent The Sweetest Girl to two of the acts he most admired, Gregory Isaacs and Kraftwerk. They heard back from Isaacs' 'people' to say that he liked the song and might do it, but nothing form Kraftwerk. Years later, he met them and asked them if they had received the song he'd sent them.
'Yursss', they had said, 'But we hate reggae'.
This was the night of the good-natured raconteur and happy atmosphere; paper plates of mince pies were circulated, and pass-the-parcel happened somewhere in the depths of the crowd.
When you hear all Green's songs together you realise what a track record he has; and such a strong identity, sometimes answering back to Soft Cell, circling around Spirit in the Sky, or deconstructing The Beach Boys (often, it sounds as though Green has fished out the best harmony and allows us to just imagine the others around it).
My favourite of the night was Brushed with Oil, Dusted with Powder, which is a sublime song that was performed beautifully.
Towards the end they played a song inspired by the Raincoats (it's called Overcoats). I was so excited that I texted Gina, but by the time I'd done that, it was too late to phone and record it on to her voicemail, which of course is what I should have done. What a techno-fumble!
At the back of the crowd I found Jay Derrick from Brighton band The Parrots. We shared their drummer, Russ, who of course sadly died a few years ago. Jay speculated about what a brilliant drummer Russell would have been for this music; he was a tight and crisp reggae drummer, a mass of sticks and skinny arms and legs. As Green told us that the band were about to play a song that isn't finished yet, Jay told me that he's been to the first ever Scritti Politti gig at which they played three songs, all not finished yet. Ah, consistency, the under-rated accomplishment!

Green at the Dalston Vic (Bathed in Blue): Write-Up to follow, Tomorrow

2011-12-11T19:50:00.000Z