Writing, Barnet

I have just put on my grey lecture-writing jumper.
Somehow, I am going to trace a line from Chaucer's Pardoner who sold fake pardons to gullible pilgrims, pretending his cache of animal bones were the bones of saints, to Jean Baudrillard and his idea of hyperreality.
Wish me luck!

Walking, Hove

Sometimes the only way to escape the tyranny of the computer is to leave the room, leave the house, leave the town and leave the city. Living is not interacting with a screen: it is walking, looking, listening and being in the real live world.

On a still evening on the Hove seafront, peculiar things happen. Busy Lizzies lie in obedient lines, awaiting the compost vehicle; people get married; a crow tries to balance on a lamp-post before being frightened off by a cyclist ('Sorry, I scared the bird away', said the mobile scarecrow; but I'd managed to take the photograph before that happened).

The sunset! 

The sea was like a huge slab of sapphire toffee being melted by the setting sun.

And then I went for a delicious Thai meal in a pop-up restaurant, and then I went to Lewes, and then I went home.

And here is the computer, sucking me in again....

Penetration

I never saw them back in the day (washing dishes in a French restaurant to make money for art materials) so this was an absolute joy. Pauline, what a singer you are! The venue was sold out and the band sound proper punk. Rob has a great, strong bass sound (a bit like Andy Warren's from the Monochrome Set), the drums were sharp and punchy and the guitars made a wall of sound behind Pauline's fierce voice.
'We're going down the front to listen to our girl!', said someone in the girls' bogs.
Yep, she does us all proud. Go to see them, you must. They are playing Bristol, Derby, Sheffield, Edinburgh and Glasgow and they are absolutely storming.
(Couldn't resist taking a snap of the punk dog)
Sorry for short review, knackered but happy.

Tonight at the Harrison Bar

Gigaholics presents Jude Cowan Montague, Kath Tait and Helen McCookerybook at The Harrison Bar, King's Cross. An informal evening of women song writers working if different styles:
http://harrisonbar.co.uk/event/gigaholics-3/?instance_id=1940

Kebab Shop, Stoke Newington

Frank Chickens

Gigaholics at The Harrison Bar, Thursday

Everything is happening very fast: I have little vid of The Frank Chickens, but I think I'll have to upload that via Youtube. Until then: Jude Cowan, Kath Tate and me perform together for the first time for ages at The Harrison Bar in King's Cross this Thursday.
http://harrisonbar.co.uk/event/gigaholics-3/?instance_id=1940

Sleeping Barbers Shop

Supporting The Nightingales and Ted Chippington

Wednesday was drizzly and dull, the perfect night for pickpockets and n'er-do-wells and the perfect night to play an East London pub down an alleyway. Round the table sat various Nightingales and Ted, examining menus and waiting to sound check. Oddy, there was a slight Gentleman's Club air to the pub lounge: something to do with the wing chairs, perhaps. The hanging about before the gig bit was nice. I like talking to them. Luckily, the three bean salad had more than just three beans in it; there must have been around 50 in there, which was a good omen. The venue manager even conjured up a cup of tea in a beer glass. Now that's keeping the artist happy!

Downstairs through a warren of corridors with mysterious black doors, the sound engineer was setting up; in the box, the sound was good, the lights were snazzy and it looked like it would be a good night. Upstairs, it was filling up: Katy, Wilky, Andy, Jaime, Cheri, lots of people who like Peel-scented artists had come out to play, or rather to listen. I finished the chilled chips that the guys had kindly guarded, then went down to play.
You know, I had such a great time. On one side of the stage were Fliss, Cheri, Dolly, a little crowd of grrrls, and on the other was Katy, singing away at the top of her voice. It can sometimes be unnerving playing to a lot of people you know, but other times you just get swept away by the energy, and its massive fun. Thank you for being so supportive, audience!
Ted came on next, and actually made me yell with laughter at his description of the neighbour who is so scared of him that he wouldn't come out of his car after his shopping trip, and who phoned the police because the frozen food he'd bought was going to melt. And the slugs! Everyone has a slug story, but only Ted tells them on stage; nobody else values slugs enough. The little slug, patiently making it's way through the cat flap across the hostile carpet so that it can eat the cat food, that's everybody's kinda slug. Bless!
So, to The Nightingales. What a power-packed quartet. They just get better and better; their songs are the aural equivalent of rockets shooting across the stage from one person to the other, ricocheting from Robert to Andreas to Fliss to Jim. Robert rediscovers his lyrics anew every time he sings 'em; he raises his arm to each band member in turn, and fishes a Swanee whistle and a kazoo out of his pocket at just the right moments. Andreas and Jim fire riffs at each other at astonishing speed, and Fliss: what can I say about Fliss? She is just incredible, and she is quite possibly the best drummer in the UK: she is a proper musical drummer.
Fireworks! They had new songs, even a rockabilly one, and they actually stopped playing after one song: this is unheard of. The audience clapped after they had got over the shock.
Bang! The gig was over. Dazed, we went home.
Tonje and Peter were on the train home, and we shared stories of snails, of course.
I have taken the liberty of posting some of Peter (Tainsh's) photographs. The Nightingales moved too fast for my camera, although I did manage to take a pic of Fliss's cymbal!

Jim Smith; Fliss Kitson; Rob Lloyd; Andreas; me. All by Peter Tainsh

Thank You Kenji Kenji

I am looking forward to seeing Friedrich Sunlight playing at The Lexington on Sunday 19th November.
I met Kenji Kenji a couple of months ago at The Lexington when a door to a whole new music scene continued to open- and to welcome me in. The Lexington is like the new Moonlight Club.
This is a link to his interview from Super World Indie Tunes; and thank you Kenji Kenji for saying such nice things about The Sea!
https://superworldindietunes.com/2017/10/20/super-world-interview-time-kenji-kenji-drives-us-bananas/
And listen to this; it's gorgeous:

Review of The Nightingales/Ted Chippington tomorrow; been taking time out nursing a bit of a cold tucked up in bed with a Scandi Noir paperback. Rather a nice relaxing day, actually.
Meanwhile I have fallen for this gorgeous dog, who I met the other night at The Sebright Arms and who dragged his owner over to say goodbye after I made a fuss of him earlier on.
Awww.

Stop Press! Stoke Newington Music Festival

I did this one last year- and look at the line-up of Sunday. Frank Chickens! Helen and the Horns supported them at The Fridge years ago.
Do please check out their website because there are some fantastic acts playing- Tall Poppies and even Janet Kay (what a coup: one of the best voices in the UK!) and of course, Hank Wangford, Fran Isherwood and John Hegley.
Someone has been very persuasive to get this lot to come out to play!
It's a charity event, see here: https://stokenewingtonmusicfestival.com

The Addison Brothers by The Bitter Springs

I never did get around to properly reviewing the launch for this single at The Lexington the other week. It was a brill gig, with the ever-hilarious Asbo Derek supporting Vic Godard and Subway Sect, who now feature the producer Ruth Tidmarsh on bass.
It was a wonderful warm-hearted night with a lot of witty bantz from Vic on stage. He is spending his Post-Office pension on the label, Gnu.
I love this song. Sometimes Vic joins the band on stage to sing this. I chose the one with legs because it reminded me of the first Curved Air album that everyone said hypnotised people but it didn't.
The b-sides are painted because there's something wrong with them, by Mandy Prowse, Vic's partner.
Reminds me of sitting in my Willesden bedsit aged about 23 with a bunch of pals painting King Kurt's paper single covers for their first single, Zulu Beat. An era of one-offs has returned, not before time; back then, I took a load up to Edinburgh and the record shop stuck them in the window straight away.
We wouldn't have known the word 'marketing' if it flew out of the sky and bit us on the bum, but these things work(ed). I chose yellow and blue for The Chefs t-shirts in Brighton because I thought tourists would like yellow and blue, and they did, and the t-shirts sold out.
Ha.

ToNightingales! The Sebright Arms!

Five Wizards Wait For Three Dorothies

In Bust Magazine

Thank you to Cheri Amour, who is a great guitarist as well as a writer and who plays in a band with Fliss Kitson from the Nightingales, for this piece in Bust magazine.

http://bust.com/music/193639-helen-mccookerybook.html