Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Extra extra readallaboutit
Well, if you would like a CD version of Helen McCookerybook's Christmas Assortment, send a cheque or postal order for £7.50 made out to Helen and the Horns, PO box 3427, Barnet, EN5 9EX and I will post it and pack it and also send you a Suburban Pastoral badge to boot.
Lighter thoughts
Well, today, life turned itself around a bit; I've been in the studio, doing a bit of editing, backing vocals and guitar a la Merseybeat sound on my album; meanwhile, Martin Stephenson has been recording a guitar part in Scotland for one of the songs and that's being posted down to me later this week, o modern technology you dear of dears; Paul Davey's going to come and put the sax parts on to a couple of songs on Monday, and I just have to do the vocals, which I'll do when this cold has cleared up.
I might even treat myself to a singing lesson with Jamie McDermott, who I haven't seen for centuries.
Although I am infinitely happier than I was yesterday, I have just eaten a truly disgusting blueberry muffin from Waitrose that had a nasty surprise in the middle- a round blob of cold wobbly flavourless blueberry jam that you could not negotiate your way around. I had to eat a banana afterwards to take the flavour away, which was not the idea at all; I wanted a one-item snack experience and instead had a mini-picnic. Terribly disappointing.
I have some CDs of the Christmas song that I got from the USA; I don't know if anyone would like to buy one. Monty said he did so I'll decide how much they should be and post that information this weekend.
I might even treat myself to a singing lesson with Jamie McDermott, who I haven't seen for centuries.
Although I am infinitely happier than I was yesterday, I have just eaten a truly disgusting blueberry muffin from Waitrose that had a nasty surprise in the middle- a round blob of cold wobbly flavourless blueberry jam that you could not negotiate your way around. I had to eat a banana afterwards to take the flavour away, which was not the idea at all; I wanted a one-item snack experience and instead had a mini-picnic. Terribly disappointing.
I have some CDs of the Christmas song that I got from the USA; I don't know if anyone would like to buy one. Monty said he did so I'll decide how much they should be and post that information this weekend.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
A Dark Thought
Sorry about this, as I so rarely let a dark thought through the glory-gates of blogdom, but it slipped through.
McDad has posted this year's advent calendar, in a mongrel envelope and with a second-class stamp (no sense of urgency, these Seniors).
Idly musing on life, I invented a sort of cardboard calendar with little daily paper doors for those awaiting the Decree Absolut, with episodes of descending ghastliness as the big day approaches.
I don't know why this sprung to mind, but were I still an Artist, I would create such an object.
McDad has posted this year's advent calendar, in a mongrel envelope and with a second-class stamp (no sense of urgency, these Seniors).
Idly musing on life, I invented a sort of cardboard calendar with little daily paper doors for those awaiting the Decree Absolut, with episodes of descending ghastliness as the big day approaches.
I don't know why this sprung to mind, but were I still an Artist, I would create such an object.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
I Didn't
No, I didn't go to the knitting party, which looked like a long walk on the A-Z; instead, I went to Covent Garden, did a little vintage browsing (that's both me and the clothes, since you ask); I saw a lovely giraffe dress, wished I'd bought it too late. Radar directed me to Topshop as usual, which was a complete scrum; I can't remember if I mentioned my invention that I invented on my one and only ever trip to Primark. I approached the till with my bargains- everything was only six quid, as cheap as a charity shop- took one look at the huge queues and dumped the lot on the nearest table. It was obvious that hundreds of people had done exactly the same thing. So I invented the Roving Till, assistants with debit card terminals on a holster-type thing, with a bag slung across their shoulders filled with carrier bags, so people could pick up clothes on a whim, pay for them on a whim, and Primark doubled their takings.
Primark thought this was such a good idea that they paid me 25% of the increased takings, making me a millionaire overnight and allowing me to purchase a rambling castle in Scotland, thus solving all my accommodation problems in one fell swoop (one swell foop? Can't remember which way round it is) and I lived happily ever after.
Meanwhile, back in reality, I've made an almond cake, stopped the cat from eating the top of it (he scalped a lovely quiche once, which wasn't funny at all), and I have a lecture to write on the 1960s for Tuesday evening at the University of the West. I've become obsessed with Telstar, a track I hate, and which I've left at the University of the East after a lecture on record production I did there. Shall I download it from iTunes? Shall I buy a cheesey 60s compilation tomorrow? I do need it....
I can tell you for a fact that Anthony Newley is vastly over-rated. I'm listening to him now and will replace him with Antony and the Johnsons in a minute and see if he is too, now the fuss has died down.
Alternatively. it could be a Lover's Rock and almond cake moment, washed down with a cup of fresh coffee.
Oh yes.
Primark thought this was such a good idea that they paid me 25% of the increased takings, making me a millionaire overnight and allowing me to purchase a rambling castle in Scotland, thus solving all my accommodation problems in one fell swoop (one swell foop? Can't remember which way round it is) and I lived happily ever after.
Meanwhile, back in reality, I've made an almond cake, stopped the cat from eating the top of it (he scalped a lovely quiche once, which wasn't funny at all), and I have a lecture to write on the 1960s for Tuesday evening at the University of the West. I've become obsessed with Telstar, a track I hate, and which I've left at the University of the East after a lecture on record production I did there. Shall I download it from iTunes? Shall I buy a cheesey 60s compilation tomorrow? I do need it....
I can tell you for a fact that Anthony Newley is vastly over-rated. I'm listening to him now and will replace him with Antony and the Johnsons in a minute and see if he is too, now the fuss has died down.
Alternatively. it could be a Lover's Rock and almond cake moment, washed down with a cup of fresh coffee.
Oh yes.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
What bursting palette of activities are at my disposal today? Well, a trip to the massomarket, without doubt; there is no catfood left and I've been scraping the tin convincingly for 24 hours and pretending that the old dried up lumps in the bowl are new, but the little fur fellas won't fall for that any longer; I also have to buy a million tins of plum tomatoes, the foundation of the cheapo Western diet. They hold our cupboards up.
I could go to the East End- there, a party is happening in a knitting shop to celebrate a competition that has involved knitting walking-stick covers. It's very tempting, because the woman who organises it organises things like taking over carriages on the Circle Line and knitting all day. Problem is that I don't know where the heck my wool is, nor the knitting needles that Eddie found in a drawer when he worked in the Auction Rooms in Brighton- all different colours of Bakelite, beautiful, but where?
There are all sorts of funky parties at the moment: a Ukelele one next week, Songbird with the Band of Holy Joy, animation at the Royal College of Art. Should I attend them, or just imagine them?
I could go to the East End- there, a party is happening in a knitting shop to celebrate a competition that has involved knitting walking-stick covers. It's very tempting, because the woman who organises it organises things like taking over carriages on the Circle Line and knitting all day. Problem is that I don't know where the heck my wool is, nor the knitting needles that Eddie found in a drawer when he worked in the Auction Rooms in Brighton- all different colours of Bakelite, beautiful, but where?
There are all sorts of funky parties at the moment: a Ukelele one next week, Songbird with the Band of Holy Joy, animation at the Royal College of Art. Should I attend them, or just imagine them?
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Sniff
I'm playing at the Star in Tufnell Park tonight, onstage at 9.45.
I've still got a fiendish cold but reckon I can manage my set and then slope off for a Lemsip or two...
The Unicorn gig has been cancelled but I'm still playing the 12 Bar on the 21st with the Band of Holy Joy and the Bar Latina too.
And, of course, nightly in my front room, the two cats and the dog lined up in front of me looking sheepish, tapping their little paws on the floor and humming along in their animal tones, shaking their heads so their ears whack together at the ends of songs instead of clapping, because of course fur is soundless.
I've still got a fiendish cold but reckon I can manage my set and then slope off for a Lemsip or two...
The Unicorn gig has been cancelled but I'm still playing the 12 Bar on the 21st with the Band of Holy Joy and the Bar Latina too.
And, of course, nightly in my front room, the two cats and the dog lined up in front of me looking sheepish, tapping their little paws on the floor and humming along in their animal tones, shaking their heads so their ears whack together at the ends of songs instead of clapping, because of course fur is soundless.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Richard and Judy
A couple of years ago, I was sitting chatting to a student in January, outside. She was very upset and we sat there for ages in the cold yakking away. And then I got 'flu- the proper sort where your bones ache for two weeks and you are capable of nothing but flopping around moaning through a raging sore throat. That's when I started watching Richard and Judy, every afternoon; I later discovered that I shared this taste with the Head of Fashion at the University of Westminster. I even saw the film Team America, because they were laughing so much when they described it, I had to find out what it was like.
Last December, I really wanted to write a song for their Christmas Song competition but I didn't because I was having teething problems in my new job- the teething problems of a hippo, actually, or some other animal with very large teeth (or a lot of 'em!).
Anyway, today I sent them my songs, just in case they have another competition, so I can be the first entrant.
It's partly because while I was doing Jury Service I did a wordsearch and tried to win a yellow Spongebob Squarepants Ukelele. I found all the words, but my eyesight is so bad i couldn't read the teensy weensy address printed at the bottom of the page and I gave up and threw the competition form away.
It's time to get some new glasses; perhaps in January, so I can spend the rest of the winter reading enlightening literature and emerge into Spring as a fresh new bespectacled and clever cover-version of the previous me.
And it can be my one-competition-entry-a-year; I did that last year and won this computer, so you never know!
Last December, I really wanted to write a song for their Christmas Song competition but I didn't because I was having teething problems in my new job- the teething problems of a hippo, actually, or some other animal with very large teeth (or a lot of 'em!).
Anyway, today I sent them my songs, just in case they have another competition, so I can be the first entrant.
It's partly because while I was doing Jury Service I did a wordsearch and tried to win a yellow Spongebob Squarepants Ukelele. I found all the words, but my eyesight is so bad i couldn't read the teensy weensy address printed at the bottom of the page and I gave up and threw the competition form away.
It's time to get some new glasses; perhaps in January, so I can spend the rest of the winter reading enlightening literature and emerge into Spring as a fresh new bespectacled and clever cover-version of the previous me.
And it can be my one-competition-entry-a-year; I did that last year and won this computer, so you never know!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Louise Bourgeois
I met up with Caroline Coon today- she looked beautiful, long straight white-blonde hair, fitted black coat, slender legs and boy's shoes, what style the woman has!- at the Tate Modern, to see the Louise Bourgeois exhibition. We investigated the crack (apparently 14 people have fallen down it so far), then went and lunched with a view at the restaurant upstairs, admiring St Paul's and also the giant cranes; Caroline says she saw a documentary about them once. I told her about the embroidery I'd started of the cranes at Wembley- i got as far as doing the embroidered frame round the outside, then left it too long and in the meantime, they finished the stadium and took the cranes away.
Bah!
If I was a trillionaire I'd get 'em to put the cranes back just so I could finish the embroidery! It was going to be in black and white, because that seemed like a good idea, what with all those choices of embroidery thread colours. I had several different blacks and several different whites. Alas, my pretentiousness has been thwarted by the passing of time and the completion of the Wembley building project on time, near as dammit!
Louise Bourgeois is completely inspiring- there was one particular marble sculpture, of a seated animal with paws'n'claws and six globes hanging from its chest; its skin was stretched tautly over its spine and you could see the vertebrae just at the most curved part. The marble was polished to such a smooth finish, you wanted to stroke it. There were some drawings and models of housewives, women whose heads had been consumed by square and solid houses leaving their bodies helplessly dangling below them, that defined a feeling almost impossible to articulate in words but all too clear in her expression of it. She'd made little pink sewn model people with two heads, one head, eyelids, almost dolls but a little too scary. Oh do go and see it!
Afterwards we crossed the Millennium Bridge in search of coffee; unfortunately, I became too coughy myself (har har) and decided to tube it home.
Strange to have a cold- I don't get them very often. I hope it clears up by Wednesday because I'm supposed to be re-doing the vocals for the next album. I'll know tomorrow if I'm gonna be better in time. At the moment, I sneeze every time I sniff a strong smell, cough when my lungs hit the cold air, and walk like a 70-year-old man because my legs and arms are so stiff.
My nose is red and sore, my eyes are watering, and my head has settled somewhere between here and Mars.
Bah!
If I was a trillionaire I'd get 'em to put the cranes back just so I could finish the embroidery! It was going to be in black and white, because that seemed like a good idea, what with all those choices of embroidery thread colours. I had several different blacks and several different whites. Alas, my pretentiousness has been thwarted by the passing of time and the completion of the Wembley building project on time, near as dammit!
Louise Bourgeois is completely inspiring- there was one particular marble sculpture, of a seated animal with paws'n'claws and six globes hanging from its chest; its skin was stretched tautly over its spine and you could see the vertebrae just at the most curved part. The marble was polished to such a smooth finish, you wanted to stroke it. There were some drawings and models of housewives, women whose heads had been consumed by square and solid houses leaving their bodies helplessly dangling below them, that defined a feeling almost impossible to articulate in words but all too clear in her expression of it. She'd made little pink sewn model people with two heads, one head, eyelids, almost dolls but a little too scary. Oh do go and see it!
Afterwards we crossed the Millennium Bridge in search of coffee; unfortunately, I became too coughy myself (har har) and decided to tube it home.
Strange to have a cold- I don't get them very often. I hope it clears up by Wednesday because I'm supposed to be re-doing the vocals for the next album. I'll know tomorrow if I'm gonna be better in time. At the moment, I sneeze every time I sniff a strong smell, cough when my lungs hit the cold air, and walk like a 70-year-old man because my legs and arms are so stiff.
My nose is red and sore, my eyes are watering, and my head has settled somewhere between here and Mars.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Playing guitar
The great thing about playing guitars is that you can play them like this...
Or like this....
Or this....
This....
Or even this!
Or like this....
Or this....
This....
Or even this!
Friday, November 23, 2007
Unicorn Theatre Gig
I have a very special gig coming up close to Christmas, close to London Bridge.
It's a totally acoustic, unplugged gig supporting Martin Stephenson at the Unicorn Theatre on Friday 14th December, and if you would like to come, it would be really good if you get your tickets in advance from:
Email: boxoffice@unicorntheatre.com
If you want to check the venue out the website is www.nakednights.co.uk
I might even sing the Christmas Queen song.
Learn the backing vocals and join in!!!!
Free download from www.bendirecords.com
I'll have a very limited number of CDEPs which I'll do mail order when they arrive, about 10th December- watch this space for details!
It's a totally acoustic, unplugged gig supporting Martin Stephenson at the Unicorn Theatre on Friday 14th December, and if you would like to come, it would be really good if you get your tickets in advance from:
Email: boxoffice@unicorntheatre.com
If you want to check the venue out the website is www.nakednights.co.uk
I might even sing the Christmas Queen song.
Learn the backing vocals and join in!!!!
Free download from www.bendirecords.com
I'll have a very limited number of CDEPs which I'll do mail order when they arrive, about 10th December- watch this space for details!
Do Not Be Afraid, Little Girl; I Mean You No Harm
It was Bristol, in Trinity Hall with The Chefs. A rabid fan was trying to prise our manager Jonathan out of the doorway so he could get in.
Later, a genial African promoter came in, promising to make me a star. He was terrifying, for the first thing he said was
Do Not Be Afraid, Little Girl; I Mean You No Harm
Later, a genial African promoter came in, promising to make me a star. He was terrifying, for the first thing he said was
Do Not Be Afraid, Little Girl; I Mean You No Harm
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Sitting About
Oh well, you know, I've just sitted about today. There was no jury service, and I suppose I've done a lot of clearing out and throwing away, stroking Charlie the Bad Cat, looking out of the window....
I've uploaded a different Christmas track on to Myspace, the one with the choir, 'Christmas Queen'.
I know it isn't Christmas yet, but I found a nice little Christmas chef tag so I felt the need to match image to music and Just Do It.
Johny Brown's asked me to play at the 12 Bar with the Band of Holy Joy close to Christmas, and I haven't played there for ages so I'm looking forward to that. All these Geordies... I'm playing with the Daintees in Newcastle Upon Tyne on the 27th December. It'll be Mark Knopfler (yuck) next, or perhaps Sting (double yuck) or possibly, Bryan Ferry (huntin' shootin' fishin'). Or maybe that Dave from the Eurythmics (Durham). Or maybe Laverne from Kenickie... Or perish the thought, that John Miles... "Meoosic was my first love, and meeoosic is my larst... meoosic of the fyoocher...meoosic of the parst..." with that awful bit where the piano gets excited at the end!
Help!
Stop, brain, before you send me barmy!
Excuse me.
I'm going back to just sitting about.
I've uploaded a different Christmas track on to Myspace, the one with the choir, 'Christmas Queen'.
I know it isn't Christmas yet, but I found a nice little Christmas chef tag so I felt the need to match image to music and Just Do It.
Johny Brown's asked me to play at the 12 Bar with the Band of Holy Joy close to Christmas, and I haven't played there for ages so I'm looking forward to that. All these Geordies... I'm playing with the Daintees in Newcastle Upon Tyne on the 27th December. It'll be Mark Knopfler (yuck) next, or perhaps Sting (double yuck) or possibly, Bryan Ferry (huntin' shootin' fishin'). Or maybe that Dave from the Eurythmics (Durham). Or maybe Laverne from Kenickie... Or perish the thought, that John Miles... "Meoosic was my first love, and meeoosic is my larst... meoosic of the fyoocher...meoosic of the parst..." with that awful bit where the piano gets excited at the end!
Help!
Stop, brain, before you send me barmy!
Excuse me.
I'm going back to just sitting about.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Foggy Morn Story
As the bus rounded the corner one damp foggy morn on the way to jury service, I spotted what appeared to be two machine guns on top of a roof in the thick grey gloom.
"Bloody Hell! That's a bit off for the North London suburbs!", I thought.
We pulled up at the bus stop and I realised that what I'd seen was two gigantic papier-mache angels on top of the the garden centre building, their trumpets pointing joyfully at the heavens.
Silly me.
"Bloody Hell! That's a bit off for the North London suburbs!", I thought.
We pulled up at the bus stop and I realised that what I'd seen was two gigantic papier-mache angels on top of the the garden centre building, their trumpets pointing joyfully at the heavens.
Silly me.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Corbridge
Corbridge was a lovely gig- in a pub called The Angel. The audience was really friendly: Mike and June were there, and Mike-from-Corbridge (well, of course), and my friend Carol, and more.
I'd written the set list on my hand but my eyesight is so awful I couldn't read it. A kindly lady in the audience fished around in her handbag and lent me her reading glasses, so everything was OK.
Hats off to Fin for some brilliant percussion!
I drove home in the grey rain, listening to Aretha's fabulous voice to cheer me up (I miss the northeast so).
It was 299 miles there, and 284 back.
Did my tyres grow or did England shrink overnight?
I'd written the set list on my hand but my eyesight is so awful I couldn't read it. A kindly lady in the audience fished around in her handbag and lent me her reading glasses, so everything was OK.
Hats off to Fin for some brilliant percussion!
I drove home in the grey rain, listening to Aretha's fabulous voice to cheer me up (I miss the northeast so).
It was 299 miles there, and 284 back.
Did my tyres grow or did England shrink overnight?
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