Oh, not really!
I'll be singing the Christmas Queen song.
Music starts at 8 p.m.
Monday, December 16, 2019
Tuesday Night (tomorrow) in Tufnell Park
After this, I can get the most humungous cold.
Oh, not really!
I'll be singing the Christmas Queen song.
Music starts at 8 p.m.
Oh, not really!
I'll be singing the Christmas Queen song.
Music starts at 8 p.m.
Sunday, December 15, 2019
Catharsis
The Daylight Music 100th Birthday celebration at the Union Chapel was lovely on Saturday. It featured artists from the Lost Map record label, which is based on the Isle of Eigg in Scotland.
Calum Easter's accordion songs were marvellous, and Rozi Plain's impassioned speech at the start of her set was an emotionally cathartic moment. Here's to the next 100 gigs and big up Ben Eshmade for putting such a continuous stream of energy into the events. Stamina to be proud of- and the full house on Saturday is testament to the audience's faith in the quality of the music he puts on.
This afternoon was spent at the Betsey Trotwood watching the Dolly Mixture film Take Three Girls. Debsey and Rachel were there hosting the afternoon, which was a lovely relaxed way to spend Sunday. Even though I've seen it before, it still had the same strong emotional impact. It's lovely and should be shown on TV.
I should be working this evening but I'm too tired. It's impossible really to put into words how I feel and there are far too many people putting spontaneous and ill thought-out postings on social media and into the newspapers. The wrong people will always get blamed for what has happened.
I honestly never thought that political gaslighting would take hold to such an extent in Britain. It feels as though the school bullies have won, because nobody wants to admit that they have been cheated and bullied, because admitting to being duped undermines their belief in their own integrity.
Just read Jon Ronson's book The Psychopath Test, and there you will see the whole thing laid out in plain English. Psychopaths ridicule people who think ethics and empathy are important.
Unfortunately, there is no cure for psycopathic minds. Normal people are all weaklings, you see...
Calum Easter's accordion songs were marvellous, and Rozi Plain's impassioned speech at the start of her set was an emotionally cathartic moment. Here's to the next 100 gigs and big up Ben Eshmade for putting such a continuous stream of energy into the events. Stamina to be proud of- and the full house on Saturday is testament to the audience's faith in the quality of the music he puts on.
This afternoon was spent at the Betsey Trotwood watching the Dolly Mixture film Take Three Girls. Debsey and Rachel were there hosting the afternoon, which was a lovely relaxed way to spend Sunday. Even though I've seen it before, it still had the same strong emotional impact. It's lovely and should be shown on TV.
I should be working this evening but I'm too tired. It's impossible really to put into words how I feel and there are far too many people putting spontaneous and ill thought-out postings on social media and into the newspapers. The wrong people will always get blamed for what has happened.
I honestly never thought that political gaslighting would take hold to such an extent in Britain. It feels as though the school bullies have won, because nobody wants to admit that they have been cheated and bullied, because admitting to being duped undermines their belief in their own integrity.
Just read Jon Ronson's book The Psychopath Test, and there you will see the whole thing laid out in plain English. Psychopaths ridicule people who think ethics and empathy are important.
Unfortunately, there is no cure for psycopathic minds. Normal people are all weaklings, you see...
Number 35 in the Louder in War Albums of the Year Chart
Many thanks to Cazz Blase and Paul Scott-Bates for fantastic support, always!
Thursday, December 12, 2019
Saturday Night on Wednesday Night
Big thanks to Gideon Coe for playing my song again last night.
Bloody hell, I needed cheering up.
The world seems to have gone mad in the nastiest way possible.
What I really can't understand is people who vote Conservative yet who use, and have used, the National Health service to it's fullest extent for themselves and their children, all their lives.
Maybe it's just me, because (a) I don't believe in private medicine and (b) now, I definitely could not afford it.
But?
https://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/track/saturday-night-with-the-london-set-2
Bloody hell, I needed cheering up.
The world seems to have gone mad in the nastiest way possible.
What I really can't understand is people who vote Conservative yet who use, and have used, the National Health service to it's fullest extent for themselves and their children, all their lives.
Maybe it's just me, because (a) I don't believe in private medicine and (b) now, I definitely could not afford it.
But?
https://helenmccookerybook.bandcamp.com/track/saturday-night-with-the-london-set-2
Wednesday, December 11, 2019
I Vote Labour
Propaganda by the Tory press has been remarkably successful at this election.
Their cynicism disgusts me; the Daily Mail has a history of supporting fascists, notably in the Second World War, yet people still read it and believe what it says.
This is the first year that I have actually campaigned directly since I worked at the Labour Party Headquarters in the 1990s.
The driving force as been the deliberate dismantling of the NHS, who cared for my parents when they were sick and dying, who helped me to bring my daughters into the world and who have looked after the health of me and my loved ones for our entire lives this far.
The way they treated and mended my badly broken elbow last year was incredible, and the dignity that they afforded to every patient that first night in A&E was incredibly moving.
It didn't matter whether you were old, young, rich, poor, male, female, black, white, brown or whatever: the scruffiest young man, the most vulnerable baby, the poshest elderly lady, all got the same respect and gentleness from a team of staff who would utterly shame some of the rich and powerful people who strut about our planet as though it is they who own the place.
The kindest gesture was from the nurse who checked me in first of all; I was convinced that I'd only dislocated it, and got a horrible shock when I saw on the x-ray that the bone had almost completely sheared off. After he put the plaster on, I had to go for more x-rays and he said 'Come and say goodbye when you're finished here'. That was so sweet. I was on my own, and worried and frightened. And I did, and he smiled and wished me luck and a speedy recovery.
Actually, it could have been the theatre team, who were so reassuring when I was a scaredy cat just before the operation to fix it (they sewed it back on, a new procedure that meant I only had to have one operation instead of metal pins that had to be removed later).
Or the chap who was patrolling the recovery room sitting down next to us all, one by one, and reminding us to breathe!
Or perhaps, when they finally signed me off three months later, the message from the surgeon:
'Did she get to her gig?' (I had been raving and ranting: 'I'm a guitarist! I'm a guitarist! I'm a GUITARIST!').
So even if it wasn't the heartbreaking sight of homeless people in tent cities in the bitterly cold wind, food banks (FOOD BANKS!!) in this country in peacetime, or the horrible racism of the Prime Minister, or the deliberately divisive tactics of his government, the NHS alone is enough to have got me out on the streets with leaflets and persuasion.
And my Offsprogs too (I am so proud of them), and so many of my friends.
Their cynicism disgusts me; the Daily Mail has a history of supporting fascists, notably in the Second World War, yet people still read it and believe what it says.
This is the first year that I have actually campaigned directly since I worked at the Labour Party Headquarters in the 1990s.
The driving force as been the deliberate dismantling of the NHS, who cared for my parents when they were sick and dying, who helped me to bring my daughters into the world and who have looked after the health of me and my loved ones for our entire lives this far.
The way they treated and mended my badly broken elbow last year was incredible, and the dignity that they afforded to every patient that first night in A&E was incredibly moving.
It didn't matter whether you were old, young, rich, poor, male, female, black, white, brown or whatever: the scruffiest young man, the most vulnerable baby, the poshest elderly lady, all got the same respect and gentleness from a team of staff who would utterly shame some of the rich and powerful people who strut about our planet as though it is they who own the place.
The kindest gesture was from the nurse who checked me in first of all; I was convinced that I'd only dislocated it, and got a horrible shock when I saw on the x-ray that the bone had almost completely sheared off. After he put the plaster on, I had to go for more x-rays and he said 'Come and say goodbye when you're finished here'. That was so sweet. I was on my own, and worried and frightened. And I did, and he smiled and wished me luck and a speedy recovery.
Actually, it could have been the theatre team, who were so reassuring when I was a scaredy cat just before the operation to fix it (they sewed it back on, a new procedure that meant I only had to have one operation instead of metal pins that had to be removed later).
Or the chap who was patrolling the recovery room sitting down next to us all, one by one, and reminding us to breathe!
Or perhaps, when they finally signed me off three months later, the message from the surgeon:
'Did she get to her gig?' (I had been raving and ranting: 'I'm a guitarist! I'm a guitarist! I'm a GUITARIST!').
So even if it wasn't the heartbreaking sight of homeless people in tent cities in the bitterly cold wind, food banks (FOOD BANKS!!) in this country in peacetime, or the horrible racism of the Prime Minister, or the deliberately divisive tactics of his government, the NHS alone is enough to have got me out on the streets with leaflets and persuasion.
And my Offsprogs too (I am so proud of them), and so many of my friends.
Monday, December 09, 2019
Re-learning Christmas Queen
I have to re-learn this song for next Tuesday's last minute gig at the Aces and Eights in Tufnell Park.
Ding dong!
Friday Night at The Cumberland Arms with The Noise and the Naive, GG Allan Partridge, Vic Godard and Subway Sect (and Me)
It was a sell-out gig, stuffed to the gills right from the start.
All the best gigs have bands that you don't want to miss even when you are playing too, and this one was no exception.
The Noise and the Naive are emigrating to Canada (lucky them!) and this was their last gig before leaving. In a similar way to the Deux Furieuses (but sounding notably different) their line up consists of two women, one playing guitar and one playing drums. Deux Furieuses sound angry and energetic, but Noise and Naive sound full of enjoyment and vitality. Their songs sound like they were fun to make up: they are playful as well as being played with great expertise and tight musicianship. The two voices shout-sing in tandem and in harmony, almost taking the piss out of their own format at times. They are brave enough to use a kazoo; they are rifftastic, drumtastic and they really know know their way around their instruments. I particularly liked Hawaiian Blues (or was that Howway-an Blues?) and Canada's gain is definitely Britain's loss.
Good luck- you bloody deserve it!
This was a brilliant start to the evening.
(more coming)
(back again)
GG Allan Partridge are a power surge of punk music that features screaming, tribal drumming, references to TV themes, early French electronica, and all sorts of other influences, topped by a skeletal electric violin (legacy of Darryl Way?) and vocals that sound like crushed cellophane: alternately delicate, spooky, shouty and assertive. There was a darkness about their sound that was compounded by their cover of a Pellethead song (Oh how I love that band!) and they left the audience energised, roaring and bloody sweaty! I couldn't get close enough to film them, or even photograph them because the room was packed with people, which is testament to the following they have in Newcastle.
Following two such dynamic bands was really difficult. I had to tell myself that as musicians we all say things in different voices, and I was lucky (and relieved) to play to a listening room! Thank you and big luv to Pauline and Rob for coming along to give moral support!
The headline band was, of course, Vic Godard and Subway Sect (by way of the JoBoxers and back again), with Johnny Britton on guitar. They were really well-rehearsed, completely on form, and with the Northern Soul part of the punky beaty mix very much to the forefront, particularly in the backing vocals, which added a whole new layer to the songs. Vic is an exceptionally accomplished song writer, made all the better by the humour in the delivery. The cover version of Orange Juice's Falling and Laughing was really touching. There was so much to listen to in the sound: some fabulous guitar playing from both Vic and Johnny, some great fuzzy bass and a jolly good thwack on the skins (kindly lent by the drummer from the Noise and the Naive).
Between the acts, Johny Brown played some great tunes, one of which I was desperate to find out the name of, but there wasn't room to get across the room to ask him. And thanks to Ian Evans for excellent live sound services!
Phew.
That's it folks, apart from the fact I still haven't recovered from eating the most gigantic jacket potato in the world lunch on Friday, that would have fed 15 horses.
(I know horses don't eat jacket potatoes, but I needed to exaggerate).
And of course to say hats off to Michael Clunkie, who put the night together with confidence that it would all work. Thank you Michael, it was an honour to play the night!
All the best gigs have bands that you don't want to miss even when you are playing too, and this one was no exception.
The Noise and the Naive are emigrating to Canada (lucky them!) and this was their last gig before leaving. In a similar way to the Deux Furieuses (but sounding notably different) their line up consists of two women, one playing guitar and one playing drums. Deux Furieuses sound angry and energetic, but Noise and Naive sound full of enjoyment and vitality. Their songs sound like they were fun to make up: they are playful as well as being played with great expertise and tight musicianship. The two voices shout-sing in tandem and in harmony, almost taking the piss out of their own format at times. They are brave enough to use a kazoo; they are rifftastic, drumtastic and they really know know their way around their instruments. I particularly liked Hawaiian Blues (or was that Howway-an Blues?) and Canada's gain is definitely Britain's loss.
Good luck- you bloody deserve it!
This was a brilliant start to the evening.
(more coming)
(back again)
GG Allan Partridge are a power surge of punk music that features screaming, tribal drumming, references to TV themes, early French electronica, and all sorts of other influences, topped by a skeletal electric violin (legacy of Darryl Way?) and vocals that sound like crushed cellophane: alternately delicate, spooky, shouty and assertive. There was a darkness about their sound that was compounded by their cover of a Pellethead song (Oh how I love that band!) and they left the audience energised, roaring and bloody sweaty! I couldn't get close enough to film them, or even photograph them because the room was packed with people, which is testament to the following they have in Newcastle.
Following two such dynamic bands was really difficult. I had to tell myself that as musicians we all say things in different voices, and I was lucky (and relieved) to play to a listening room! Thank you and big luv to Pauline and Rob for coming along to give moral support!
The headline band was, of course, Vic Godard and Subway Sect (by way of the JoBoxers and back again), with Johnny Britton on guitar. They were really well-rehearsed, completely on form, and with the Northern Soul part of the punky beaty mix very much to the forefront, particularly in the backing vocals, which added a whole new layer to the songs. Vic is an exceptionally accomplished song writer, made all the better by the humour in the delivery. The cover version of Orange Juice's Falling and Laughing was really touching. There was so much to listen to in the sound: some fabulous guitar playing from both Vic and Johnny, some great fuzzy bass and a jolly good thwack on the skins (kindly lent by the drummer from the Noise and the Naive).
Between the acts, Johny Brown played some great tunes, one of which I was desperate to find out the name of, but there wasn't room to get across the room to ask him. And thanks to Ian Evans for excellent live sound services!
Phew.
That's it folks, apart from the fact I still haven't recovered from eating the most gigantic jacket potato in the world lunch on Friday, that would have fed 15 horses.
(I know horses don't eat jacket potatoes, but I needed to exaggerate).
And of course to say hats off to Michael Clunkie, who put the night together with confidence that it would all work. Thank you Michael, it was an honour to play the night!
Wednesday, December 04, 2019
Ironing On The Patch
After a bit of writing and a bit of lunch and a bit of a walk I did this, all ready for Friday's gig.
It's not going to be 2019 for much longer, but I am always a little bit behind the times.
Time for a 2020 patch, probably, but other things are in the pipeline before that.
It might just get done in a year's time! Big thanks to Ian Button for design assistance.
It's not going to be 2019 for much longer, but I am always a little bit behind the times.
Time for a 2020 patch, probably, but other things are in the pipeline before that.
It might just get done in a year's time! Big thanks to Ian Button for design assistance.
The Key
I woke up too early, but in my hand I had the key to making the writing work.
I think the editor is right, but I'm soliciting a second opinion from a writing friend.
I'll print out the constipated chapters tomorrow and read them on the train to Newcastle as well, to see what I can edit out myself.
Actually, I'm beginning to be quite excited. I have been writing this book for ten years; it takes a long time to write a book anyway, but being a Mum, a lecturer in up to three different Universities at a time, and a practicing musician has meant a lot of squeezing of time, getting up ridiculously early and forfeiting of other things (mostly watching TV actually).
I have also spent much of the past ten years rather hard up.
It's amazing what you can do when you have to make your own entertainment (that's a joke, BTW!).
I think the editor is right, but I'm soliciting a second opinion from a writing friend.
I'll print out the constipated chapters tomorrow and read them on the train to Newcastle as well, to see what I can edit out myself.
Actually, I'm beginning to be quite excited. I have been writing this book for ten years; it takes a long time to write a book anyway, but being a Mum, a lecturer in up to three different Universities at a time, and a practicing musician has meant a lot of squeezing of time, getting up ridiculously early and forfeiting of other things (mostly watching TV actually).
I have also spent much of the past ten years rather hard up.
It's amazing what you can do when you have to make your own entertainment (that's a joke, BTW!).
Tuesday, December 03, 2019
Stuck
I am stuck with my writing. There is a part of the book that is mimicking the blocked sink drain that has taken all morning to sort out. I need mental soda crystals to clear a way through the thicket of words. Three chapters are interfering with each other and I want all the information to be there in the book but I can't work out how to disentangle it all and make a clear pathway through it all.
I've only done an hour's work on it today and already I have come to a halt. Boo.
I've only done an hour's work on it today and already I have come to a halt. Boo.
Monday, December 02, 2019
Sunday, December 01, 2019
Out
How exhausting!
Thursday was the Evening Class night, Friday ATV at The Dublin Castle with Ruth Tidmarsh and Cos Chapman cutting their teeth as co-members Mark Perry's band, possibly temporarily while the previous incumbents have a sabbatical, but who knows?
Last night was the Wheelandcomeagain singalong reggae night at the Shaw Theatre with the Reggae Choir. Hats off once more to Fola Philip- that was a really good night!
Of course, I have videos of each night, but I'll have to wait to upload those until next week.
Alas, I don't think I have the energy for Sarah Vista at the Country Soul Sessions tonight, and I'd dearly love to go, firstly because they are one of the best live bands on the circuit at the moment, and secondly because I love that night in general. Drew Morrison and his wife Alex are amazing hosts and it's always worth going down even if you don't know the acts who are playing- there is always a nice surprise in store. So in my head, in my head.... my imagination will have to do!
I'm sung out and wrung out (yes, I got the high note in Silly Games and so did everyone else in the audience) but have to finish the punk article this avo, because the producers and engineers book has come back from it's second edit, and I have to start on that next.
And then there's the gig next Friday at the Cumberland Arms, more on that later too, but I really must rehearse dahling!
Pip pip!
Thursday was the Evening Class night, Friday ATV at The Dublin Castle with Ruth Tidmarsh and Cos Chapman cutting their teeth as co-members Mark Perry's band, possibly temporarily while the previous incumbents have a sabbatical, but who knows?
Last night was the Wheelandcomeagain singalong reggae night at the Shaw Theatre with the Reggae Choir. Hats off once more to Fola Philip- that was a really good night!
Of course, I have videos of each night, but I'll have to wait to upload those until next week.
Alas, I don't think I have the energy for Sarah Vista at the Country Soul Sessions tonight, and I'd dearly love to go, firstly because they are one of the best live bands on the circuit at the moment, and secondly because I love that night in general. Drew Morrison and his wife Alex are amazing hosts and it's always worth going down even if you don't know the acts who are playing- there is always a nice surprise in store. So in my head, in my head.... my imagination will have to do!
I'm sung out and wrung out (yes, I got the high note in Silly Games and so did everyone else in the audience) but have to finish the punk article this avo, because the producers and engineers book has come back from it's second edit, and I have to start on that next.
And then there's the gig next Friday at the Cumberland Arms, more on that later too, but I really must rehearse dahling!
Pip pip!
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