'donnie darko' seems better now in retrospect than 'secretary' which at the time seemed its equal, so jake wins that one maggie!
(i have a brother too...)
in fact, their old man is a director too.
he's quite good, supposedly, not that i'd know.
Tuesday, 11 November 2003
saw 'mystic river' at the pictures last night.
it was alright.
certainly better than 'igby goes down' the last big American i saw that wasn't alien directors cut (which was alright SHOUTS to Yaphet K. and Ian Holm) and as okay as 'dark blue' i tink (there's a extraordinarily biting review of that at IMDB which writes off its admittedly not the subtlest you might say attempts at evoking Los Angeles circa. Rodney King era as 'tinsel town vulgarity' or somesuch) which if nothing else should be applauded for the kind of performance from kurt russell as a corrupt, racist 'tec for which the word "bravura" is normally reserved.
anyway, that film.
penn and bacon and marcia gay harden and larry fishburne are all good, and tim robbins is wild and not himself at times, and looks good.
not bad at all, even if penn's wife - all quasi-fascistic/vigilanteisms bon mots - is a far scarier character than the abducters, local 'hoods, damaged kids, and cynical cops combined.
gorgeous closing shot of a bridge over water too.
still not seen matrix 3 or kill bill 1, mind.
about schmidt is still the best big american seen this year IIRC (from my arthouse perspective cause i normally see far more non-eng. lang. films in any year than opposite) cause even if you feel it boring and emotionally manipulative, nicholson was good in it and besides the very final scene was the last time i cried at the flicks.
it was alright.
certainly better than 'igby goes down' the last big American i saw that wasn't alien directors cut (which was alright SHOUTS to Yaphet K. and Ian Holm) and as okay as 'dark blue' i tink (there's a extraordinarily biting review of that at IMDB which writes off its admittedly not the subtlest you might say attempts at evoking Los Angeles circa. Rodney King era as 'tinsel town vulgarity' or somesuch) which if nothing else should be applauded for the kind of performance from kurt russell as a corrupt, racist 'tec for which the word "bravura" is normally reserved.
anyway, that film.
penn and bacon and marcia gay harden and larry fishburne are all good, and tim robbins is wild and not himself at times, and looks good.
not bad at all, even if penn's wife - all quasi-fascistic/vigilanteisms bon mots - is a far scarier character than the abducters, local 'hoods, damaged kids, and cynical cops combined.
gorgeous closing shot of a bridge over water too.
still not seen matrix 3 or kill bill 1, mind.
about schmidt is still the best big american seen this year IIRC (from my arthouse perspective cause i normally see far more non-eng. lang. films in any year than opposite) cause even if you feel it boring and emotionally manipulative, nicholson was good in it and besides the very final scene was the last time i cried at the flicks.
middlebrow tastes give mad love to NERD gah : =
The beautiful people are out in force in Brixton, and it's no surprise. N*E*R*D are the funk band front end of the ultra-cool production team the Neptunes, who are currently ruling the music world.
In their studio-bound producer manifestation, the Neptunes have provided songs and beats for everyone from pop deities Justin and Britney to hard-core hip hop monsters Jay-Z and Ol' Dirty Bastard. Given that pop music is currently considered to be cooler than the weirdest of left-field avant-gardism, and hip hop is a huge and ever-growing power within the music industry, they've got all bases covered as far as hipness in concerned.
It's a shame, then, when they bounce on to the stage and re-enact all the sins ever committed by every dance act who've ever tried to compete in the rock arena.
Their backing band seem strangely stilted and clunky compared with the boys' own funked-up fluidity as committed to record, and the first few songs rely far too much on "woah, woah"" call-and-response attempts to engage the audience. Given the subtlety of the production values of their recorded work, it all seems a little bit crass and try-hard.
However, they warm up quickly into a chunky, soul-rock kind of groove, then suddenly the whole thing is pushed into hyperspace by the arrival on stage of one Justin Timberlake.
N*E*R*D mainman Pharrell Williams has already removed his shirt to show off a gym-toned torso, but, when Justin takes the stage, the ceiling of the venue is dripping with oestrogen condensation. From here on in, the band clearly get off on the audience's excitement, and it's a proper gig. Starting with Justin's vocal debut on romantic soul-junk number Run to the Sun, Brixton Academy is transformed into a dance party.
It's not just N*E*R*D songs - they play Justin's solo tracks such as Senorita and Neptunes productions such as Jay-Z's Fronting and a splendid cocktail-jazz take on Nelly's Hot in Here - but it's still all theirs.
This seems to be a band who can expand their boundaries to take in the work of anyone they've ever been involved with. The backing may not have the funkiness of their studio work, but there's barely a rock band around who can mix such driving beats and brain-grabbing hooks.
By the time they start riffing like Led Zeppelin for their encore jam, ending with their own Lapdance, any quibbles about their position at the heart of the music industry are heartily blown away.
-Joe Muggs at the online telegraph this morning.
of course, being a craven hypocrite, it would've been luvverly to be there but hey the neptunes and justin in the same building...
...Angus would already have, well, i'll let that sentence peter out___
;-)
The beautiful people are out in force in Brixton, and it's no surprise. N*E*R*D are the funk band front end of the ultra-cool production team the Neptunes, who are currently ruling the music world.
In their studio-bound producer manifestation, the Neptunes have provided songs and beats for everyone from pop deities Justin and Britney to hard-core hip hop monsters Jay-Z and Ol' Dirty Bastard. Given that pop music is currently considered to be cooler than the weirdest of left-field avant-gardism, and hip hop is a huge and ever-growing power within the music industry, they've got all bases covered as far as hipness in concerned.
It's a shame, then, when they bounce on to the stage and re-enact all the sins ever committed by every dance act who've ever tried to compete in the rock arena.
Their backing band seem strangely stilted and clunky compared with the boys' own funked-up fluidity as committed to record, and the first few songs rely far too much on "woah, woah"" call-and-response attempts to engage the audience. Given the subtlety of the production values of their recorded work, it all seems a little bit crass and try-hard.
However, they warm up quickly into a chunky, soul-rock kind of groove, then suddenly the whole thing is pushed into hyperspace by the arrival on stage of one Justin Timberlake.
N*E*R*D mainman Pharrell Williams has already removed his shirt to show off a gym-toned torso, but, when Justin takes the stage, the ceiling of the venue is dripping with oestrogen condensation. From here on in, the band clearly get off on the audience's excitement, and it's a proper gig. Starting with Justin's vocal debut on romantic soul-junk number Run to the Sun, Brixton Academy is transformed into a dance party.
It's not just N*E*R*D songs - they play Justin's solo tracks such as Senorita and Neptunes productions such as Jay-Z's Fronting and a splendid cocktail-jazz take on Nelly's Hot in Here - but it's still all theirs.
This seems to be a band who can expand their boundaries to take in the work of anyone they've ever been involved with. The backing may not have the funkiness of their studio work, but there's barely a rock band around who can mix such driving beats and brain-grabbing hooks.
By the time they start riffing like Led Zeppelin for their encore jam, ending with their own Lapdance, any quibbles about their position at the heart of the music industry are heartily blown away.
-Joe Muggs at the online telegraph this morning.
of course, being a craven hypocrite, it would've been luvverly to be there but hey the neptunes and justin in the same building...
...Angus would already have, well, i'll let that sentence peter out___
;-)
speaking of buffoons :-
the number seventeen...that will be chicken chow mein
__BBC Radio 5 Live commentator Alan Green referring on-air to Manchester City defender Sun Jihai during their recent game with Tottenham Hotspur which Green covered.
Green then tried to rope his co-commentator, Jimmy Armfield, into his remarks.
Auntie eventually apologised.
the number seventeen...that will be chicken chow mein
__BBC Radio 5 Live commentator Alan Green referring on-air to Manchester City defender Sun Jihai during their recent game with Tottenham Hotspur which Green covered.
Green then tried to rope his co-commentator, Jimmy Armfield, into his remarks.
Auntie eventually apologised.
Monday, 10 November 2003
one thing that puzzles me slightly is the insistence of quite a few (for want of a better term) mainstream authorities views on the primacy of public enemy [sidenote: some time ago, k-punk and myself and perhaps one or two others had a nice little disagreement about our favourite PE albums; i think he likes the debut whereas these days i am the ultimate in convention and just love millions too much, but hey, it's all good fun].
now, much as i DO adore certainly millions but also quite feel the debut (not a big fan of planet these days oddly) but hey the debut has that wonderful boombox (or should that be bonebox?) skeletal feel to it which is good, anyway, where was i, oh yeah, i mean really you hafta admit that main source's first LP pisses over anything public enemy have ever released but then you get Q magazine saying something to the contrary.
weird that.
now, much as i DO adore certainly millions but also quite feel the debut (not a big fan of planet these days oddly) but hey the debut has that wonderful boombox (or should that be bonebox?) skeletal feel to it which is good, anyway, where was i, oh yeah, i mean really you hafta admit that main source's first LP pisses over anything public enemy have ever released but then you get Q magazine saying something to the contrary.
weird that.
Sunday, 9 November 2003
i see Luka is throwing his toys out of his pram as regards the Albion victory over the Taffs today.
oddly enough, what he says is almost a direct paraphrase of what my old man was saying.
i'm glad to see he at least bigs up Jason Robinson, my local boy (plays for Sale, my mate goes out socialising with him).
proper four in the last four, anyway.
the Paddies got pissed on, eh?
oddly enough, what he says is almost a direct paraphrase of what my old man was saying.
i'm glad to see he at least bigs up Jason Robinson, my local boy (plays for Sale, my mate goes out socialising with him).
proper four in the last four, anyway.
the Paddies got pissed on, eh?
Saturday, 8 November 2003
one of my london mates told me for the first time today they've just recently started to appreciate and reevaluate tea after many years of just coffee - what a pleasant coincidence eh
being a Manc, i hardly have much sympathy for Leeds United F.C. (it’s a cruel, cold world eh folks?), in fact they are by far my least fave Prem team behind united and red scouse (strange sympathies for the Toffees), but what were they playing at at Fratton?! can they even afford to sell Viduka, cause of all the strange clauses in there, and the fact the financials are ballsed up?
also, it doesn’t inspire much confidence in Leeds Business School now, does it; i think my plan to stick with Cranfield will bear fruit sooner or later.
also, it doesn’t inspire much confidence in Leeds Business School now, does it; i think my plan to stick with Cranfield will bear fruit sooner or later.
did you see Australia-Scotland? flaming eck, that was draining, hope the All Blacks stuff ‘em, wanting the All Blacks to win in rugger is like a passion for Brazil in footy, whereas the Aussies – apologies to Aussie chums - but, well, it’d be like supporting the USA at athletics (or indeed USA over Cuba in basketball or USA over Iran in footy) wouldn’t it.
i hope the Irish stuff the French, adore the Ireland team.
i hope the Irish stuff the French, adore the Ireland team.
i don’t mind telling you, last night i got rather drunk.
this is the sort of thing that happens when you encounter, e.g., whiskies, strong continental lagers, Pimms, and plenty of decent plonk.
we got out a didgeridoo – only two of us (i wasn’t one of those people) could play this fantastically-inscribed-on-with-animal-sigils-and-other-wossnames instrument properly, but the two that did – BLOODY ELL!! such lovely sonority, absolutely wonderful, words clearly can’t describe it, the resonance, oh just aural sex, sheer pleasure, wonderful wonderful.
at one point we were jamming on two guitars, the didge, and my mate got on this really old organ type instrument that they got in an antique shop for one hundred quid all in, like a harmonium it was (well, it WAS a harmonium to be honest), and we had ‘Music for Airports’ on the stereo rather loud, it was akin to DRONE CITY, Riley and Young came round and did a knees-up Cocker-nee style.
a harmonium looped would present one with a beautiful sound, rich and vast, filling out an empty church sort of music. or plenty of reverb, the possibilities are – indeed – endless.
this is the sort of thing that happens when you encounter, e.g., whiskies, strong continental lagers, Pimms, and plenty of decent plonk.
we got out a didgeridoo – only two of us (i wasn’t one of those people) could play this fantastically-inscribed-on-with-animal-sigils-and-other-wossnames instrument properly, but the two that did – BLOODY ELL!! such lovely sonority, absolutely wonderful, words clearly can’t describe it, the resonance, oh just aural sex, sheer pleasure, wonderful wonderful.
at one point we were jamming on two guitars, the didge, and my mate got on this really old organ type instrument that they got in an antique shop for one hundred quid all in, like a harmonium it was (well, it WAS a harmonium to be honest), and we had ‘Music for Airports’ on the stereo rather loud, it was akin to DRONE CITY, Riley and Young came round and did a knees-up Cocker-nee style.
a harmonium looped would present one with a beautiful sound, rich and vast, filling out an empty church sort of music. or plenty of reverb, the possibilities are – indeed – endless.
that new Bryn Terfel advertising campaign on the telly for his latest album, must say, that’s all very stirring, that stuff, that sort of caper, oh yes, definitely feeling that, very much, fill your boots indeed.
O MEN OF HARLECH
dum-de-dum-de-dum-dee-dum-da-dum-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-deh-dum-DA-DUM
LA LA LA LAH lur lur lur lur de dah de dah LA LA LA LA LA ER LA ER ER er LA-di-DAH
MEN OF HARLECH
etc.
(exeunt.)
O MEN OF HARLECH
dum-de-dum-de-dum-dee-dum-da-dum-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-deh-dum-DA-DUM
LA LA LA LAH lur lur lur lur de dah de dah LA LA LA LA LA ER LA ER ER er LA-di-DAH
MEN OF HARLECH
etc.
(exeunt.)
me and some mates went and saw some installations this afternoon. breaking with the longstanding somedisco policy of never ever knowingly slagging off any visual art (ha-hah!), one must say that some of the stuff (names have been withheld to protect the innocent, like anyone reads this shit) didn’t do too much for any of us.
one video piece in a darkened room in particular – i dunno, it’s like a lot of things these days
‘oh, we’ll just get a few random images and lob a glitch soundtrack at it, it’ll be right’
~
hmm.
one video piece in a darkened room in particular – i dunno, it’s like a lot of things these days
‘oh, we’ll just get a few random images and lob a glitch soundtrack at it, it’ll be right’
~
hmm.
Friday, 7 November 2003
excellent point from Geeta there about the Punman.
somedisco'll probably be quoting IP at some stage in the near future, a couple of those recent denunciations of texturally-superb/blissed-out/ambient-meisterwork [i.e., think: Leaf products and, for instance, you know which Japanese auteur...] in his most recent columns were very enjoyable.
somedisco'll probably be quoting IP at some stage in the near future, a couple of those recent denunciations of texturally-superb/blissed-out/ambient-meisterwork [i.e., think: Leaf products and, for instance, you know which Japanese auteur...] in his most recent columns were very enjoyable.
suppose that is because, out of the best albums both have released, one finds my box weighs a ton (or whatever it's called, can't remember) warmer and more inviting than shadow's.
end_ is innovative and rich and illustrative and really also a block-rockin' beat and quite inviting too (though the party you'd be attending if you secured a shadow invite would be quite different to any soiree mr wolf might throw) but seems a bit (pseud justifications ahoy-hoy aha!) too easy or something, sometimes.
nope, i don't know what i'm on about.
my vinyl weighs a ton seems like it's steeped in Newtonian clamourings about standing on the shoulders of giants (that comp. he's released this year that's part of the badmeaninggood series is very enjoyable; at one point it segues from i think joe jackson into iron butterfly, or somesuch) and although shadow's material is clearly deeply immersed in a rich crate-digger's experiences and therefore also part of a lineage (and linear), PBW seems a more seductive experience.
god, i'll be finding parallels in a minute with the indietronica-baiting Jon Dale and i have to get back onto again soon.
suppose one finds the following formulation instructive :=
shadow - Philip Roth
PBW - Joseph Roth.
end_ is innovative and rich and illustrative and really also a block-rockin' beat and quite inviting too (though the party you'd be attending if you secured a shadow invite would be quite different to any soiree mr wolf might throw) but seems a bit (pseud justifications ahoy-hoy aha!) too easy or something, sometimes.
nope, i don't know what i'm on about.
my vinyl weighs a ton seems like it's steeped in Newtonian clamourings about standing on the shoulders of giants (that comp. he's released this year that's part of the badmeaninggood series is very enjoyable; at one point it segues from i think joe jackson into iron butterfly, or somesuch) and although shadow's material is clearly deeply immersed in a rich crate-digger's experiences and therefore also part of a lineage (and linear), PBW seems a more seductive experience.
god, i'll be finding parallels in a minute with the indietronica-baiting Jon Dale and i have to get back onto again soon.
suppose one finds the following formulation instructive :=
shadow - Philip Roth
PBW - Joseph Roth.
Thursday, 6 November 2003
President Putin in Italy
~
Putin denies this, and stressed Wednesday that his government shouldn't be seen as persecuting Khodorkovsky's company, Yukos
well you can have your point of view on this matter and everyone else can have theirs eh?
~
for some reason, i find it rather worrying that messrs. Putin and Berlusconi are reportedly close friends.
~
Putin denies this, and stressed Wednesday that his government shouldn't be seen as persecuting Khodorkovsky's company, Yukos
well you can have your point of view on this matter and everyone else can have theirs eh?
~
for some reason, i find it rather worrying that messrs. Putin and Berlusconi are reportedly close friends.
apart from going out friday and staying at a mate's until saturday, this coming weekend is one of only possibly two that i ain't seeing mates etc. busy etc. til Chrimbo
how fortuitous for me it falls on the weekend of feasting rugger
the aussie coach seems under fire
how fortuitous for me it falls on the weekend of feasting rugger
the aussie coach seems under fire
new york more segregated these days than in 1910 - interesting.
~
i suppose, with ref. to grime artists etc. being patronised, a lot of productions tips seem to be informed with all the kids listening to a lot of 80s popsters and stuff don't they?
it's like you can hear both Mannie Fresh, Sylvian, soundtrks (as Keith pointed out) but also flock of seagulls in east connection, i swear that's what i take from it.
hmm.
~
i suppose, with ref. to grime artists etc. being patronised, a lot of productions tips seem to be informed with all the kids listening to a lot of 80s popsters and stuff don't they?
it's like you can hear both Mannie Fresh, Sylvian, soundtrks (as Keith pointed out) but also flock of seagulls in east connection, i swear that's what i take from it.
hmm.
that raises some interesting issues, especially the questioning final paragraph.
for indeed one of the most ethnically diverse cities on earth, the big apple might not be in as good a shape as i naively (ignorantly) thought?
i wonder if any local nerds (e.g., SR or Geeta or Mike Clap) have any views on all that?
for indeed one of the most ethnically diverse cities on earth, the big apple might not be in as good a shape as i naively (ignorantly) thought?
i wonder if any local nerds (e.g., SR or Geeta or Mike Clap) have any views on all that?
i say old boy, steady on eh
it genuinely seems to be not just a case of Suddenly a couple of clunky eastern samples that would probably have been dismissed as cliched if Severed Heads had used them in the mid 80s are elevated to genius level but more the way in which, e.g., with some roll deep stuff (not that i know but there are plenty of others that do) there's that whole big frosty cherry garden morning/duelling with shakuhachis sound there.
it seems deeper and more familiar than a "few clunky eastern samples" would suggest, at least to this listener anyhow
it genuinely seems to be not just a case of Suddenly a couple of clunky eastern samples that would probably have been dismissed as cliched if Severed Heads had used them in the mid 80s are elevated to genius level but more the way in which, e.g., with some roll deep stuff (not that i know but there are plenty of others that do) there's that whole big frosty cherry garden morning/duelling with shakuhachis sound there.
it seems deeper and more familiar than a "few clunky eastern samples" would suggest, at least to this listener anyhow
that's quality that.
had a scout around and found that - can confirm to Eden, Meme, and crew that deluxe at the contact is a nice venue, they used to have on a thursday one decent night 9 - 3, hideous kinky, that was good. the contact is a posh theatre, some good productions and deluxe a caff-bar thing there.
that's something on hideous kinky (for historical record)
apart from that i don't think there's too many club nights, the odd soul or reggae night, that's about it
nearby studenty bar black hands is nice black plastic on a thursday would be worth meme and co. coming across a day earlier for (its every thursday so ignore the weird BBC dating)
had a scout around and found that - can confirm to Eden, Meme, and crew that deluxe at the contact is a nice venue, they used to have on a thursday one decent night 9 - 3, hideous kinky, that was good. the contact is a posh theatre, some good productions and deluxe a caff-bar thing there.
that's something on hideous kinky (for historical record)
apart from that i don't think there's too many club nights, the odd soul or reggae night, that's about it
nearby studenty bar black hands is nice black plastic on a thursday would be worth meme and co. coming across a day earlier for (its every thursday so ignore the weird BBC dating)
someone said that the new sugababes album sounds poo and then from what i've heard of it i'm not feeling it and then someone else suggested they're not doing it as well as mis-teeq which normally i would scoff at but then i thought about it again and i believe i am starting to come round to that conclusion perhaps. well maybe not, it's all tentative and cautious but still, the totem round here should be like Gunter Grass' - a snail
now i like Camille Paglia me (and i also like how she manages to seemingly piss off right-wing white American males {Fox News' demographic, if the theories are to be believed}, in my experience anyhow, merely by being alive - Susan Sontag is another one in this camp but hey she did write on photography the year my parents were in NYC and Trano so big up her chest) but clearly not all blogs are as she describes.
erasetheworld being a case in point.
("Oh mother I can feel the soil falling over my head" class!)
erasetheworld being a case in point.
("Oh mother I can feel the soil falling over my head" class!)
ghosts bloody hell
ghosts is also a term for people who don't officially exist, e.g., migrants not 'legally' resident here, etc.
all of a sudden the BBC is all 'Romanian sex slave trade and African child labour migration patterns' documentaries
ghosts is also a term for people who don't officially exist, e.g., migrants not 'legally' resident here, etc.
all of a sudden the BBC is all 'Romanian sex slave trade and African child labour migration patterns' documentaries
now i know sweet fa about david banner but have been delighted to see in the last several weeks two of my fave scribes, Hua Hsu and man like Tompkins (is he Ingram's bete-noire, or Ingram's teacher? i can never work that one out...) give up mad luv for his latest album, title the state where he's from.
might have to get that.
so far any hip-hop LPs that are shaping up my faves of the year have been either instrumental affairs (fashion faux-pas or wot?! i know, but we are in manchester behind the times don't forget) or mostly not gangsta, anyway.
but that sounds well tasty.
might have to get that.
so far any hip-hop LPs that are shaping up my faves of the year have been either instrumental affairs (fashion faux-pas or wot?! i know, but we are in manchester behind the times don't forget) or mostly not gangsta, anyway.
but that sounds well tasty.
Re. Wiley going down to London’s world music emporium Sterns, nice to be able to slot him into that 4th World/neo-geo/ethnological forgeries continuum: Czukay/Canaxis & ‘persian love’, Byrne/Eno/Hassell, 23 Skidoo’s Urban Gamelan, Toop, Wobble, er, Loop Guru, er er Transglobal Underground.. um, never mind…
haha Bredda Reynolds on Wiley's Earthworks tip
loop guru, they were down, bare belief man.
etc.
get us out of this '23 Skidoo referencing everything in the global mish-mash categorising' stakes oh puh-lease!
haha Bredda Reynolds on Wiley's Earthworks tip
loop guru, they were down, bare belief man.
etc.
get us out of this '23 Skidoo referencing everything in the global mish-mash categorising' stakes oh puh-lease!
Wednesday, 5 November 2003
before one gets going must observe that a recent issue (116, October 2003, available at the Bolton match) of the Man City fanzine king of the kippax contained, among other articles, thoughtful pieces quoting J.B. Priestley, discussing “far-right fascists who infiltrate big games” and mentions of Brahms.
This middle piece quotes Lemn Sissay, a Sheffield Hallam report about the reluctance of black and Asian fans attending matches in that city (“the latter is poignant for the feeling that she felt comfortable with her colour within the ground instead of being under siege in her home near the ground”), and Ralph Ellison admiring Satchmo “because he’s made poetry out of being invisible”.
- incidentally offending our growing number of players born in the Republic of Ireland. If this appears only indirectly related to racism, I refer you to ‘N*****s Out’ graffiti in Belfast and racial abuse of refugees and asylum seekers by loyalist sympathisers in Glasgow….When Euro 2004 qualification comes around the racist turns to Rustu, Barcelona’s Turkish goalkeeper.
the writer also posits that “it is a shame that as a society we only celebrate a minority of our economic migrants”, during a discussion of Marc-Vivien Foe (the Cameroon national and recently deceased Man City player).
writing of migrants, one day recently the Mail, Star, and Express were all up in arms about Mr Blunkett’s ‘asylum amnesty’ to 15,000 illegal entrant/asylum seeker/etc. families.
i could turn this blog into a serious one (perhaps will establish a page elsewhere when my homepage is back up and running) and analyse all this with fairly long words and statistics and cod-philosophical arguments and stuff, but really, they’re just essentially rubbish; sorry to be a puerile idiot who’s just swearing and has given up even attempting to argue with a few semantic objections or the odd contrary fact, just finding pleasure in facile things and juvenilia, but if their headlines are going to be so plain shite, then my responses here are too, frankly. the objections of a recent sunday telegraph editorial are more ‘fair enough’, enough though disagreeing, at least they use their brains and moan about things, even if they’re still moaning. but attention grabbing headlines about asylum seekers (one fact: illegal immigrant, the buzz-phrase of choice, is a case of ‘what?’: the actual nearest legal equivalent in political discourse would be ‘illegal entrant’, but the word immigrant is so satisfying and can be wielded emotively one supposes), the dangers of that, etc., well. it’s all much of a muchness these days.
it’s mostly pissing in the wind anyway, as the Express was the other day mainly patting the government on the back for their newest unveiled ‘asylum measures’, which include some extremely rigorous tightening procedures, and could be characterised in a certain light – one would argue – as hard-line. of course the Express wasn’t quite happy with all the measures, not being tough enough for them, you gather, but they saw some hope in the Home Office’s ‘sane, sensible, practical proposals’. When a proposal is sane or sensible, it means – largely – the drawbridge is being drawn up, and the moats guard sharks have been deployed.
when a policy is impractical or simply not workable or irresponsible, then there’s probably been an ‘abrogation of the British taxpayers’ rights’, or some-such waffle.
here’s a tabloid headline one just made up that serves no purpose, is politically useless, is just me being a tit but there we are (the last line appears to be a shoo-in from Mary Norton’s of Leighton Buzzard fame ‘Borrowers’ series, but nevermind) :=
SOMALIANS ATE MY GRANDMOTHER
- Asylum seekers kidnap family woman, serve her with rice, inerja.
- Neighbours “furious”, “numb”, “gunning for blood” at outrage.
- Police detain three, more arrests “may follow”, force announces.
“They don’t use proper bread, European – something French or Italian, say, Welsh loaf, a decent Irish soda, or even Warburtons for goodness sake, it’s the cheaper, traditional fare found in their region of origin”, a spokeswoman for Greater Manchester Police said. “That was what really brought home to me, just what sort of person we were dealing with here,” the spokeswoman added with a sigh, more in sadness then anger, as the melancholy silver afternoon light illuminated her pretty freckles perfectly before a last gasp broadside from the flailing sun lit up the room in a fiery conceit of warm shades.
you remember some of that more passionate reporting of the whole illegals eat London swans found in some papers recently of course. also the other day in the Express were a couple of smashing letters that can essentially be summarised thus:
“Dear Sir,
England for the English,
We’re full, there’s no room at the inn.
Yrs,
X,
Evesham.”
-and-
“Dear Sir,
England for the English,
We’re full, there’s no room at the inn,
Blair is a weak-willed fool,
and I dislike the French and Krauts (a tad).
Yrs,
X,
Manchester.”
my favourite recently was from a Joanne Mills in Sheffield who writes “Whenever there’s a debate on the asylum issue, it’s pointed out that asylum seekers receive less money weekly than the unemployed on British jobseekers allowance (just). Yet nobody ever mentions the fact that the Government is not only obliged to find every asylum seeker and family decent accommodation but also to pay their rent…
not sure i’d call 70 per cent of the basic allowance that the government refers to as the official poverty line “just” below the 100 per cent (needed to keep you, officially, out of poverty), but what’s a little semantics among friends eh.
still, if only we could just, say, let destitute asylum seekers and illegal immigrants starve to death on our streets instead of accommodating them, we could save some money on housing and – perhaps this is all a bit Swiftian for you, but heck i’m in a playful mood today – even turn some of them into soap after the fact, thus re-invigorating the Cussons soap empire, a great British business name that has been – to my mind, ever since the lacklustre and, frankly overrated, ‘Foamburst’ {tm.} shower product was launched – in the doldrums for quite some time.
the Daily Express has been particularly schizophrenic of late – even by the standards of a tabloid newspaper thrusting its chops forward in a search for the whiff of populist immortality (that first ‘t’ is deliberate; keep up cynics!) – so it’s been a generously enjoyable read recently. favourites have included =
1. about a week ago, when it suited the Express’ purposes to waffle a load of nonsense about conspiracies in the death of the Princess of Wales (clearly here was best on that subject; incidentally that whole post is startlingly good isn’t it, why don’t those boys write for the Guardian Books or something, one swears_), Paul Burrell was being vaunted in those pages as a man for our time. the other day, after a week or so of fumbling, with it becoming clear that the national mood against Burrell is hardening (it’s a good thing he’s not an illegal migrant or paediatrician, otherwise he’d probably have been set upon by a restless lynch mob by now), the Express capped a few days of fine comic form by hitting actual satiric gold with the phone in question on page 15, “Should we chop off traitor Burrell’s head?” alas, one never caught the results (one recent phone-in result in the express i did catch was 98% yes to the question “Are we too soft on asylum seekers?”).
2. framing the environmentally friendly proposed airport taxes as just another stealth tax to be deployed from the offices of that tight Scottish git, Gordon, that will hit honest middle-class Britons in the gut (classic splash headline of EXCLUSIVE – NOW YOUR HOLIDAYS TO BE TAXED).
3. Andrew Cunningham’s wonderful piece the other day about the ‘Americanisation’ and over-commercialisation of holidays, with special reference to a distaste for Hallowe’en. Basically Cunningham is one of these moaning ‘not like this in my day’ types as far as it can be ascertained; small wonder that some in the Express’ constituency – a certain type of Queenly subject it seems, who exists in a parallel universe to reality (talk about not disciplining your fears or letting ignorance cloud your perspectives; Britain is going down the drain, no one is interested in ordinary folk, etc., and so on and so forth, seem to be some of the stock narrative – could we term this “middle-class bitterness”?), quite frankly – have responded so well to his op-ed.
4. Day after day of mouth-watering illegal coverage, obviously.
This middle piece quotes Lemn Sissay, a Sheffield Hallam report about the reluctance of black and Asian fans attending matches in that city (“the latter is poignant for the feeling that she felt comfortable with her colour within the ground instead of being under siege in her home near the ground”), and Ralph Ellison admiring Satchmo “because he’s made poetry out of being invisible”.
- incidentally offending our growing number of players born in the Republic of Ireland. If this appears only indirectly related to racism, I refer you to ‘N*****s Out’ graffiti in Belfast and racial abuse of refugees and asylum seekers by loyalist sympathisers in Glasgow….When Euro 2004 qualification comes around the racist turns to Rustu, Barcelona’s Turkish goalkeeper.
the writer also posits that “it is a shame that as a society we only celebrate a minority of our economic migrants”, during a discussion of Marc-Vivien Foe (the Cameroon national and recently deceased Man City player).
writing of migrants, one day recently the Mail, Star, and Express were all up in arms about Mr Blunkett’s ‘asylum amnesty’ to 15,000 illegal entrant/asylum seeker/etc. families.
i could turn this blog into a serious one (perhaps will establish a page elsewhere when my homepage is back up and running) and analyse all this with fairly long words and statistics and cod-philosophical arguments and stuff, but really, they’re just essentially rubbish; sorry to be a puerile idiot who’s just swearing and has given up even attempting to argue with a few semantic objections or the odd contrary fact, just finding pleasure in facile things and juvenilia, but if their headlines are going to be so plain shite, then my responses here are too, frankly. the objections of a recent sunday telegraph editorial are more ‘fair enough’, enough though disagreeing, at least they use their brains and moan about things, even if they’re still moaning. but attention grabbing headlines about asylum seekers (one fact: illegal immigrant, the buzz-phrase of choice, is a case of ‘what?’: the actual nearest legal equivalent in political discourse would be ‘illegal entrant’, but the word immigrant is so satisfying and can be wielded emotively one supposes), the dangers of that, etc., well. it’s all much of a muchness these days.
it’s mostly pissing in the wind anyway, as the Express was the other day mainly patting the government on the back for their newest unveiled ‘asylum measures’, which include some extremely rigorous tightening procedures, and could be characterised in a certain light – one would argue – as hard-line. of course the Express wasn’t quite happy with all the measures, not being tough enough for them, you gather, but they saw some hope in the Home Office’s ‘sane, sensible, practical proposals’. When a proposal is sane or sensible, it means – largely – the drawbridge is being drawn up, and the moats guard sharks have been deployed.
when a policy is impractical or simply not workable or irresponsible, then there’s probably been an ‘abrogation of the British taxpayers’ rights’, or some-such waffle.
here’s a tabloid headline one just made up that serves no purpose, is politically useless, is just me being a tit but there we are (the last line appears to be a shoo-in from Mary Norton’s of Leighton Buzzard fame ‘Borrowers’ series, but nevermind) :=
SOMALIANS ATE MY GRANDMOTHER
- Asylum seekers kidnap family woman, serve her with rice, inerja.
- Neighbours “furious”, “numb”, “gunning for blood” at outrage.
- Police detain three, more arrests “may follow”, force announces.
“They don’t use proper bread, European – something French or Italian, say, Welsh loaf, a decent Irish soda, or even Warburtons for goodness sake, it’s the cheaper, traditional fare found in their region of origin”, a spokeswoman for Greater Manchester Police said. “That was what really brought home to me, just what sort of person we were dealing with here,” the spokeswoman added with a sigh, more in sadness then anger, as the melancholy silver afternoon light illuminated her pretty freckles perfectly before a last gasp broadside from the flailing sun lit up the room in a fiery conceit of warm shades.
you remember some of that more passionate reporting of the whole illegals eat London swans found in some papers recently of course. also the other day in the Express were a couple of smashing letters that can essentially be summarised thus:
“Dear Sir,
England for the English,
We’re full, there’s no room at the inn.
Yrs,
X,
Evesham.”
-and-
“Dear Sir,
England for the English,
We’re full, there’s no room at the inn,
Blair is a weak-willed fool,
and I dislike the French and Krauts (a tad).
Yrs,
X,
Manchester.”
my favourite recently was from a Joanne Mills in Sheffield who writes “Whenever there’s a debate on the asylum issue, it’s pointed out that asylum seekers receive less money weekly than the unemployed on British jobseekers allowance (just). Yet nobody ever mentions the fact that the Government is not only obliged to find every asylum seeker and family decent accommodation but also to pay their rent…
not sure i’d call 70 per cent of the basic allowance that the government refers to as the official poverty line “just” below the 100 per cent (needed to keep you, officially, out of poverty), but what’s a little semantics among friends eh.
still, if only we could just, say, let destitute asylum seekers and illegal immigrants starve to death on our streets instead of accommodating them, we could save some money on housing and – perhaps this is all a bit Swiftian for you, but heck i’m in a playful mood today – even turn some of them into soap after the fact, thus re-invigorating the Cussons soap empire, a great British business name that has been – to my mind, ever since the lacklustre and, frankly overrated, ‘Foamburst’ {tm.} shower product was launched – in the doldrums for quite some time.
the Daily Express has been particularly schizophrenic of late – even by the standards of a tabloid newspaper thrusting its chops forward in a search for the whiff of populist immortality (that first ‘t’ is deliberate; keep up cynics!) – so it’s been a generously enjoyable read recently. favourites have included =
1. about a week ago, when it suited the Express’ purposes to waffle a load of nonsense about conspiracies in the death of the Princess of Wales (clearly here was best on that subject; incidentally that whole post is startlingly good isn’t it, why don’t those boys write for the Guardian Books or something, one swears_), Paul Burrell was being vaunted in those pages as a man for our time. the other day, after a week or so of fumbling, with it becoming clear that the national mood against Burrell is hardening (it’s a good thing he’s not an illegal migrant or paediatrician, otherwise he’d probably have been set upon by a restless lynch mob by now), the Express capped a few days of fine comic form by hitting actual satiric gold with the phone in question on page 15, “Should we chop off traitor Burrell’s head?” alas, one never caught the results (one recent phone-in result in the express i did catch was 98% yes to the question “Are we too soft on asylum seekers?”).
2. framing the environmentally friendly proposed airport taxes as just another stealth tax to be deployed from the offices of that tight Scottish git, Gordon, that will hit honest middle-class Britons in the gut (classic splash headline of EXCLUSIVE – NOW YOUR HOLIDAYS TO BE TAXED).
3. Andrew Cunningham’s wonderful piece the other day about the ‘Americanisation’ and over-commercialisation of holidays, with special reference to a distaste for Hallowe’en. Basically Cunningham is one of these moaning ‘not like this in my day’ types as far as it can be ascertained; small wonder that some in the Express’ constituency – a certain type of Queenly subject it seems, who exists in a parallel universe to reality (talk about not disciplining your fears or letting ignorance cloud your perspectives; Britain is going down the drain, no one is interested in ordinary folk, etc., and so on and so forth, seem to be some of the stock narrative – could we term this “middle-class bitterness”?), quite frankly – have responded so well to his op-ed.
4. Day after day of mouth-watering illegal coverage, obviously.
i am actually quite surprised about that not least because Audrey Tautou's performance was so roundly slated everywhere. still, it's pretty good and the leading man is good too.
any awards for in this world are good news, that was pretty damn quality, Michael Winterbottom is certainly capable of different turns of directorial phrase.
any awards for in this world are good news, that was pretty damn quality, Michael Winterbottom is certainly capable of different turns of directorial phrase.
querying AMG re. gillian welch album ratings-
amg reviews debut LP revival
amg reviews sophomore effort
amg reviews time (the revelator) [a favourite of many, if memory serves)
all good ratings, as you can see.
the fourth album, soul journey is out now.
here it is at amg, two and a half as you can see.
from accounts, this sounds like a new nice poppy and Welch discovers melody type malark, so beach boys fans need apply.
but amg seem to be not matching the review - which does still praise the album - with the rating they give it.
it's weird that, it sounded like more of the kneejerk indie type shenanigans that greeted the latest liz phair album (you can recall all that hullaboloo at pitchfork and such, and probably ILM for all i know)
granted, personally, i sometimes prefer arsey pure in vision folk to wonderfully ragged miscegenation, but a splash of pure pop goodness on the latest welch has resulted in a fine result, according to a very good mate of mine who's a (fairly rabid, to be honest) fan of all the Welch back-catalogue to date.
ho-hum
amg reviews debut LP revival
amg reviews sophomore effort
amg reviews time (the revelator) [a favourite of many, if memory serves)
all good ratings, as you can see.
the fourth album, soul journey is out now.
here it is at amg, two and a half as you can see.
from accounts, this sounds like a new nice poppy and Welch discovers melody type malark, so beach boys fans need apply.
but amg seem to be not matching the review - which does still praise the album - with the rating they give it.
it's weird that, it sounded like more of the kneejerk indie type shenanigans that greeted the latest liz phair album (you can recall all that hullaboloo at pitchfork and such, and probably ILM for all i know)
granted, personally, i sometimes prefer arsey pure in vision folk to wonderfully ragged miscegenation, but a splash of pure pop goodness on the latest welch has resulted in a fine result, according to a very good mate of mine who's a (fairly rabid, to be honest) fan of all the Welch back-catalogue to date.
ho-hum
Tuesday, 4 November 2003
despite my views on the roots, you know, i do really dig rahzel. there's a tape of him we've got, and he's live somewhere - it might be off westwood - and he's actually rapping and beatboxing at the same time, it's true
incidentally, what luke said about westwood and brian sewell was bang-on, i like that bit about sewell and the uncircumcised penis heh-heh, sewell's a good boy, he gets things moving and likes to pontificate in an amusing manner
incidentally, what luke said about westwood and brian sewell was bang-on, i like that bit about sewell and the uncircumcised penis heh-heh, sewell's a good boy, he gets things moving and likes to pontificate in an amusing manner
Monday, 3 November 2003
just realised i've not read silverdollarcircle for at least a fortnight.
it's excellent, as per. that stuff about lambchop, really good and ATR especially.
it's excellent, as per. that stuff about lambchop, really good and ATR especially.
A NOTE TO THE RAMBLER
The Rambler recently announced his intention to write more on western classical (genesis of idea here). he's already done something on Ligeti and something on Stockhausen.
there've been some quality responses to a post Angus made at his gaff, too.
i just want to say this is all quality, it's proper good eggs, big up yrself, long may it continue.
for my money, and this has been noted before round here, just about the best music mag writing you can get anywhere (well in easily available mainstream or near-enough-mainstream outlets {e.g., no academic journal rectitude no ta}) is in gramophone.
also said round here before, but their vox specialist JB Steane really knows his onions, operas, etc.
but there's little else left to say really: a simply great place.
next to the irreverence of the nme or the sexiness of dazed and confused, i sometimes forget about it (used to have a subscription for years, but shelved that a long time ago now due to financials) when idly grazing WHSmiths shelves.
still, here's to gramophone
and the Rambler,
and keep going please on the contemporary tip (not just Tallis eh, to the former) in both cases.
The Rambler recently announced his intention to write more on western classical (genesis of idea here). he's already done something on Ligeti and something on Stockhausen.
there've been some quality responses to a post Angus made at his gaff, too.
i just want to say this is all quality, it's proper good eggs, big up yrself, long may it continue.
for my money, and this has been noted before round here, just about the best music mag writing you can get anywhere (well in easily available mainstream or near-enough-mainstream outlets {e.g., no academic journal rectitude no ta}) is in gramophone.
also said round here before, but their vox specialist JB Steane really knows his onions, operas, etc.
but there's little else left to say really: a simply great place.
next to the irreverence of the nme or the sexiness of dazed and confused, i sometimes forget about it (used to have a subscription for years, but shelved that a long time ago now due to financials) when idly grazing WHSmiths shelves.
still, here's to gramophone
and the Rambler,
and keep going please on the contemporary tip (not just Tallis eh, to the former) in both cases.
i am well gutted (as they say) that Mr Howie has shut up both his shops.
the worst thing, personally, is i ain't even emailed him for ages, not even to note that.
should do tomorrow.
sorry, you can do without me airing my callous dirty laundry in (semi)-public!
DO wish quarks&charms would return.
the worst thing, personally, is i ain't even emailed him for ages, not even to note that.
should do tomorrow.
sorry, you can do without me airing my callous dirty laundry in (semi)-public!
DO wish quarks&charms would return.
Sunday, 2 November 2003
just thought i'm plain not very good at this rock bizness, after the realisation that 'the chronic' and 'fuck wit dre day' seem to me, a far stronger and superior opening 1-2 punch/pair for an album, than, say, 'rocks off' and 'rip this joint'.
*sigh*
on a (slightly) related note, when i called the re-issue of straight outta compton last years top (over Laura Nyro stuff and the likes of slanted & enchanted), my mate (an American lad) remarked on how irksome it had been to see all the alt.hegemonic massiv round his way (which must, apparently, really have been massive) do just the opposite...
*sigh*
on a (slightly) related note, when i called the re-issue of straight outta compton last years top (over Laura Nyro stuff and the likes of slanted & enchanted), my mate (an American lad) remarked on how irksome it had been to see all the alt.hegemonic massiv round his way (which must, apparently, really have been massive) do just the opposite...
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BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!!
This England is a quarterly magazine, based in Cheltenham. in addition to its UK home, it has offices in the USA (California), Canada (Vancouver), Australia (Victoria), and New Zealand (Auckland).
here is its website.
issues contain a lot of nice stuff really, just inoffensively nostalgic guff about Coward-esque music hall banter, features on things like “the East Coast floods of 1953”, and photo-essays on scenic old towns in the Home Counties or Lake District, etc.
as far as can be discerned, it’s toilet reading for old-age pensioners who get a bit teary-eyed about their youth or ‘British heritage’ – and who would deny someone that?
most important of all, it functions as a forum for our pensioners/old soldiers, etc., to reminisce and come to terms with the past etc.etc. a very important pressure-valve function yadda yadda, everyone should have a friendly ear. admirable and courageous, you can’t say fairer n’ that.
however, it’s of more interest to the casual reader because it’s very firmly aligning itself with the anti-Euro, save the pound movements that are coalescing around such totems as British identity and all that; this makes for some interesting incidental reading. the edition seen round my way was very reasonably banging on about the need for the British people to have a referendum on entry to the single currency (knowing nothing about the single currency one couldn’t really comment, other than to note one’s own opinion towards it is that of a cautious fence-sitter). it’s the letters page that’s of the most appeal, and there’s one or two of the aforementioned belters for ya below.
what you can infer from reading the mag is that – clearly, as you’ll read – some of its correspondents are not just anti-Euro types, but on the right-fringe of that movement, veering towards the extreme (if not already there, to all intents and purposes). one doesn’t just mean here the ignoramuses that continue to parrot caricatured tabloid rubbish that the EU is a Franco-German plot designed to keep Johnny England down; the point of Monnet’s vision and all that was always to act as a countervailing balance to the power of the big nations such as Germany wasn’t it, and certainly because Germany was horrified about what it had done in the war blah blah blah. so clearly juvenile nonsense like that should not be given the time of day. but, oh no, it’s not just misinformed (wilful or otherwise) stupidities like that here, there’s actual real bad vibes.
i thought it was worthwhile transcribing some of this stuff up here because, as you’ll see, some of this shit just ain’t fucking on.
first off, one or two inoffensively amusing ‘what? the old King is dead you say?!’ {shutters of tavern bang in high wind, patrons put down their tankards and assess the swarthy newcomers’ shock news etc.} -type moments.
disclaimer: this is a real mag, the letters you are about to read were all in the summer 2003 edition (not changed at all by myself) and one’s not adding or subtracting anything from these letters, they’re all genuine (AFAIK).
this little Aussie ripper is from Watsonia, Victoria (near Melbourne Angus?).
I find it incredible that Europe is dividing Britain into a dozen different regions….Come back, Mother!….Whatever happened to loyalty? Where is patriotism and love of country among our leaders? Yet they always rely on us commoners to help them out of disasters created by their own political greed. Merciful Lord, save us. Britons unite – and all who love her!
oh, i don’t know, John Howard always seems fairly patriotic to me (note: one could write a little bit about John Howard, and an awful lot about Philip Ruddock, but it’s perhaps best not to here).
a bloke in Devon mainly moaning about postcodes and such (or that could have been it, but he kind of lost me, frankly) provokes an astonishingly strident reply from the editor which ends on a slightly offensive note (tongue-in-cheek or no), TBH. the editor notes Around 70% of the UK population are unaware of the danger about to overtake our country. Unless we can get them to wake up, the EU will banish the name of England altogether as they cut the country up into 10 regions, all with their own mini “Parliaments” bowing down to Brussels. Oh wouldn’t Adolf Hitler be pleased!
not really mate, he’d still have a problem with Jews and gays. anyway, i thought he was in South America (loony fringes enjoy a good conspiracy) scouting for truffles?
an ex-pat living in Valencia approvingly quotes De Gaulle that “The British are an island people, not a Continental people”, goes out of his way to show his patriotism but it’s his opening paragraph that has you holding your sides:
All praise to Nelson’s article (Spring 2003) which was full of down-to-earth common sense. The term “racist” has no real meaning, if people of other countries are treated fairly and in a gentlemanly way. “Race” merely denotes your country of origin
alas, try as you might, the British National Party just doesn’t like Asians. or Jews. or black people. or trade unions very much, for that matter. i’m fairly sure that faiths such as Islam and Sikhism are frowned upon. not too sure about their views on feminism mind, perhaps they’re all avid ‘Female Eunuch’ fans…
just three more now, and that’s your lot. saving the best till last, we’ve moving from inoffensively amusing rubbish to the plain daft stuff, and then there’s two ‘you wots?!’ at the end.
a chap from North Vancouver (incidentally, Canada’s most affluent neighbourhood per head, FWIW, or so one believes)
weighs in
Some time ago I wrote to Prime Minister Blair relaying my horror
[there’s churlish little me, getting horrified – in a world political scene sense – by things like suicide bombings in Israel and paramilitary attacks on unions in Colombia; it’s good to have your priorities sorted out for ya eh (you might say my sarcasm here is undeserved and nasty but one might riposte this chap kinda opens himself up for a little criticism thru what he writes; you’ll see what i mean at the end of his letter)] about Britain aligning itself with the European Community….Myself and many of my friends living here in Canada, are proud of the British resolve to conquer this lower than life regime [don’t worry, he means the Ba’ath party here, not Brussels heh-heh] ….Britain must remain separate from the rest of Europe. The British bear a unique character. They are not tainted with national untrustworthiness as the French are, and in no way do they have the Teutonic arrogance of the Germans. Britain must continue to remain independent – for the British!
i like how he ends with a rallying exclaimation mark, quite a lot of ‘em seem to do that, good stuff. personally, i tend to pay attention to stuff the shriller it is, oh yeah.
the final two need no comment, other than a few incidentals. the first one (not the best one, in my view) is from a gentleman in Pevensey, Sussex. it reads:
There can surely be no two words in the English language more abused for political motives than “racism” and “democracy”. The former has become a term of abuse, and the latter, especially from the mouths of politicians, is a pseudonym for oppression. When post-war governments decided to create a multi-racial society they did so without consulting the indigenous population of these lands, and given the long-term consequences they exceeded their mandate and betrayed our Constitution which provides that no government can bind its successors. The historical development, which they have since compounded by legislating against those who dare to raise objections, has caused resentment on a huge scale, and we are experiencing the effects of that legacy today. In a genuine democracy the people decide on the continuance or suspension of policies which they may feel are contrary to their interests, but their wishes can only be expressed if there is a genuine choice between political parties. That choice has been eliminated. In fact, the multi-racial coach and horses is driven by the same Communist ideology which, without the consent of the electorate, has surrendered Britain’s sovereignty to Brussels.
i wonder if he votes Tory? i wonder if he’s one of these crabby types who genuinely thinks the authorities are ‘bothered’ about being more p.c. than they are catching muggers? “coach and horses” “Communist” – quality. yeah, why’d all those Ugandan Asians have to come here, of all places?
well, the “indigenous” British population hasn’t done too badly, i think you’d say, in comparison with the indigenous Canadian or indigenous Australian population, hey now.
here’s the pick of the bunch. i’ll leave the editorial response in, afterwards. possibly the most astonishing aspect of this exchange really isn’t the letter itself – after all, clearly from some easily ignorable loon lamenting himself and what once was – but the cowardly non-response of the editor who actually goes off on a tangent to make a point you occasionally hear. sad thing is, said point is so mindlessly idiotic, it’s not worth your time to even argue it down. the mind boggles. this correspondent is from Stamford, Lincolnshire.
one of my best mates is from Lincolnshire, she’s from near Skegness (“Skeg”), although nowadays lives in north London (one borough away from Luke, as it happens). my mate he went to Grimsby once for the football, and he said going through Scunthorpe it was evident that town was – to paraphrase him – an inbred kinda place, with KKK graffito daubed on walls! know a lad from Scunny meself (but he lives in south London these days) and one bloke from Grimsby (who lives in Salford these days). in all three cases: go figure.
in sympathy to the Lincolnshire Tourism Board, it must be a hard, nay thankless task they’ve got down there. one supposes that the county city’s cathedral is a nice draw, but there’s not much else, really is there? let’s be brutally honest here eh (there is a hamlet called New York and lots of wonderful landscape, with deep hidden ditches which can be a pain to motorists, and atmospheric, brooding skies; also magnificent sunsets). what could their slogan be: ‘Come visit England’s most obscure county: it’s fun you know!’?
[no actual offence to Lincs. intended then.] an old gaffer of mine hailed from Lincs. and he had fantastical tales about the small villages and hamlets that constitute the majority of the place’s populace.
however, the one time i’ve been to the place (as opposed to just driving through, or briefly stopping en route elsewhere) was for a football match, Boston versus Altrincham. after the game, Alty’s two black players had to, firstly, shower with their shirts still on, such was the amount of spit they’d accumulated on their bodies after the home fans had been gobbing at them in sufficient number throughout the match (the home bench also behaved badly in what commentators usually refer to as “disgraceful scenes” pretty much throughout the match, the home fans consistently offered out the away fans, and the away fans responded by increasing their volume to be heard in Peterborough; to cap it all, the ref was shit and couldn’t control a baby’s bathtime; to be fair to the home fans, Alty fans i know were given a warm reception in Boston boozers after the match, which just goes to show the majority always outshine the idiot minority at the match). that was around 4 or 5 years ago, if memory serves (perhaps they were all Factory fans, and thought that Leroy Chambers and Paul Robertson were Alan Erasmus and Alan Erasmus’ cousin, and were hailing them in what they saw as a traditional homage).
not interbred twats at all, oh no.
anyway, enough of this, here’s the letter:
What I am about to say will be deemed “racist” and so you will probably not print it. You see, I bitterly resent the overwhelming presence of foreign people in my England. I have always felt that I have a right to live with my own race, be taught and entertained by my own race, and have my children and grandchildren afforded the same courtesy.
However, everywhere I look now, foreign and “ethnic people” are in high positions. Every large firm’s adverts carry mainly black or Asian actors. The casts of programmes on TV are always at least 50% ethnics. Meanwhile we hear whingeing by the liberal left that we must recruit more ethnics in all our institutions and create discriminatory situations to accommodate them.
The biggest danger are Arabic people who have no intention of integrating and have brought their culture and religions here and insist we accept them. You cannot blame these people, our stupid politicians of every sort are to blame for allowing us to be buried as a race and nation. I know of a young lady who achieved University status but withdrew after a couple of months of being in a class which had only two white students!
After many decades in which coloured people have forced themselves into every nook of our lives they are now forming their own “blacks only” clubs in all our professions etc. Yet similar actions by whites would be called “racist”. To cap it all, the BBC is now using my licence fee to transmit “Asian Radio”! Why are our politicians promoting all this? I cannot fathom it out. – O.W. Dickerson, Stamford, Lincs.
*Incredibly, there is now a National Black Police Association representing 3,000 “coppers”. Can you imagine the outcry if somebody set up a National White Police Association? They’d be arrested! – Ed.
BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!! BELTER ALERT!!!
This England is a quarterly magazine, based in Cheltenham. in addition to its UK home, it has offices in the USA (California), Canada (Vancouver), Australia (Victoria), and New Zealand (Auckland).
here is its website.
issues contain a lot of nice stuff really, just inoffensively nostalgic guff about Coward-esque music hall banter, features on things like “the East Coast floods of 1953”, and photo-essays on scenic old towns in the Home Counties or Lake District, etc.
as far as can be discerned, it’s toilet reading for old-age pensioners who get a bit teary-eyed about their youth or ‘British heritage’ – and who would deny someone that?
most important of all, it functions as a forum for our pensioners/old soldiers, etc., to reminisce and come to terms with the past etc.etc. a very important pressure-valve function yadda yadda, everyone should have a friendly ear. admirable and courageous, you can’t say fairer n’ that.
however, it’s of more interest to the casual reader because it’s very firmly aligning itself with the anti-Euro, save the pound movements that are coalescing around such totems as British identity and all that; this makes for some interesting incidental reading. the edition seen round my way was very reasonably banging on about the need for the British people to have a referendum on entry to the single currency (knowing nothing about the single currency one couldn’t really comment, other than to note one’s own opinion towards it is that of a cautious fence-sitter). it’s the letters page that’s of the most appeal, and there’s one or two of the aforementioned belters for ya below.
what you can infer from reading the mag is that – clearly, as you’ll read – some of its correspondents are not just anti-Euro types, but on the right-fringe of that movement, veering towards the extreme (if not already there, to all intents and purposes). one doesn’t just mean here the ignoramuses that continue to parrot caricatured tabloid rubbish that the EU is a Franco-German plot designed to keep Johnny England down; the point of Monnet’s vision and all that was always to act as a countervailing balance to the power of the big nations such as Germany wasn’t it, and certainly because Germany was horrified about what it had done in the war blah blah blah. so clearly juvenile nonsense like that should not be given the time of day. but, oh no, it’s not just misinformed (wilful or otherwise) stupidities like that here, there’s actual real bad vibes.
i thought it was worthwhile transcribing some of this stuff up here because, as you’ll see, some of this shit just ain’t fucking on.
first off, one or two inoffensively amusing ‘what? the old King is dead you say?!’ {shutters of tavern bang in high wind, patrons put down their tankards and assess the swarthy newcomers’ shock news etc.} -type moments.
disclaimer: this is a real mag, the letters you are about to read were all in the summer 2003 edition (not changed at all by myself) and one’s not adding or subtracting anything from these letters, they’re all genuine (AFAIK).
this little Aussie ripper is from Watsonia, Victoria (near Melbourne Angus?).
I find it incredible that Europe is dividing Britain into a dozen different regions….Come back, Mother!….Whatever happened to loyalty? Where is patriotism and love of country among our leaders? Yet they always rely on us commoners to help them out of disasters created by their own political greed. Merciful Lord, save us. Britons unite – and all who love her!
oh, i don’t know, John Howard always seems fairly patriotic to me (note: one could write a little bit about John Howard, and an awful lot about Philip Ruddock, but it’s perhaps best not to here).
a bloke in Devon mainly moaning about postcodes and such (or that could have been it, but he kind of lost me, frankly) provokes an astonishingly strident reply from the editor which ends on a slightly offensive note (tongue-in-cheek or no), TBH. the editor notes Around 70% of the UK population are unaware of the danger about to overtake our country. Unless we can get them to wake up, the EU will banish the name of England altogether as they cut the country up into 10 regions, all with their own mini “Parliaments” bowing down to Brussels. Oh wouldn’t Adolf Hitler be pleased!
not really mate, he’d still have a problem with Jews and gays. anyway, i thought he was in South America (loony fringes enjoy a good conspiracy) scouting for truffles?
an ex-pat living in Valencia approvingly quotes De Gaulle that “The British are an island people, not a Continental people”, goes out of his way to show his patriotism but it’s his opening paragraph that has you holding your sides:
All praise to Nelson’s article (Spring 2003) which was full of down-to-earth common sense. The term “racist” has no real meaning, if people of other countries are treated fairly and in a gentlemanly way. “Race” merely denotes your country of origin
alas, try as you might, the British National Party just doesn’t like Asians. or Jews. or black people. or trade unions very much, for that matter. i’m fairly sure that faiths such as Islam and Sikhism are frowned upon. not too sure about their views on feminism mind, perhaps they’re all avid ‘Female Eunuch’ fans…
just three more now, and that’s your lot. saving the best till last, we’ve moving from inoffensively amusing rubbish to the plain daft stuff, and then there’s two ‘you wots?!’ at the end.
a chap from North Vancouver (incidentally, Canada’s most affluent neighbourhood per head, FWIW, or so one believes)
weighs in
Some time ago I wrote to Prime Minister Blair relaying my horror
[there’s churlish little me, getting horrified – in a world political scene sense – by things like suicide bombings in Israel and paramilitary attacks on unions in Colombia; it’s good to have your priorities sorted out for ya eh (you might say my sarcasm here is undeserved and nasty but one might riposte this chap kinda opens himself up for a little criticism thru what he writes; you’ll see what i mean at the end of his letter)] about Britain aligning itself with the European Community….Myself and many of my friends living here in Canada, are proud of the British resolve to conquer this lower than life regime [don’t worry, he means the Ba’ath party here, not Brussels heh-heh] ….Britain must remain separate from the rest of Europe. The British bear a unique character. They are not tainted with national untrustworthiness as the French are, and in no way do they have the Teutonic arrogance of the Germans. Britain must continue to remain independent – for the British!
i like how he ends with a rallying exclaimation mark, quite a lot of ‘em seem to do that, good stuff. personally, i tend to pay attention to stuff the shriller it is, oh yeah.
the final two need no comment, other than a few incidentals. the first one (not the best one, in my view) is from a gentleman in Pevensey, Sussex. it reads:
There can surely be no two words in the English language more abused for political motives than “racism” and “democracy”. The former has become a term of abuse, and the latter, especially from the mouths of politicians, is a pseudonym for oppression. When post-war governments decided to create a multi-racial society they did so without consulting the indigenous population of these lands, and given the long-term consequences they exceeded their mandate and betrayed our Constitution which provides that no government can bind its successors. The historical development, which they have since compounded by legislating against those who dare to raise objections, has caused resentment on a huge scale, and we are experiencing the effects of that legacy today. In a genuine democracy the people decide on the continuance or suspension of policies which they may feel are contrary to their interests, but their wishes can only be expressed if there is a genuine choice between political parties. That choice has been eliminated. In fact, the multi-racial coach and horses is driven by the same Communist ideology which, without the consent of the electorate, has surrendered Britain’s sovereignty to Brussels.
i wonder if he votes Tory? i wonder if he’s one of these crabby types who genuinely thinks the authorities are ‘bothered’ about being more p.c. than they are catching muggers? “coach and horses” “Communist” – quality. yeah, why’d all those Ugandan Asians have to come here, of all places?
well, the “indigenous” British population hasn’t done too badly, i think you’d say, in comparison with the indigenous Canadian or indigenous Australian population, hey now.
here’s the pick of the bunch. i’ll leave the editorial response in, afterwards. possibly the most astonishing aspect of this exchange really isn’t the letter itself – after all, clearly from some easily ignorable loon lamenting himself and what once was – but the cowardly non-response of the editor who actually goes off on a tangent to make a point you occasionally hear. sad thing is, said point is so mindlessly idiotic, it’s not worth your time to even argue it down. the mind boggles. this correspondent is from Stamford, Lincolnshire.
one of my best mates is from Lincolnshire, she’s from near Skegness (“Skeg”), although nowadays lives in north London (one borough away from Luke, as it happens). my mate he went to Grimsby once for the football, and he said going through Scunthorpe it was evident that town was – to paraphrase him – an inbred kinda place, with KKK graffito daubed on walls! know a lad from Scunny meself (but he lives in south London these days) and one bloke from Grimsby (who lives in Salford these days). in all three cases: go figure.
in sympathy to the Lincolnshire Tourism Board, it must be a hard, nay thankless task they’ve got down there. one supposes that the county city’s cathedral is a nice draw, but there’s not much else, really is there? let’s be brutally honest here eh (there is a hamlet called New York and lots of wonderful landscape, with deep hidden ditches which can be a pain to motorists, and atmospheric, brooding skies; also magnificent sunsets). what could their slogan be: ‘Come visit England’s most obscure county: it’s fun you know!’?
[no actual offence to Lincs. intended then.] an old gaffer of mine hailed from Lincs. and he had fantastical tales about the small villages and hamlets that constitute the majority of the place’s populace.
however, the one time i’ve been to the place (as opposed to just driving through, or briefly stopping en route elsewhere) was for a football match, Boston versus Altrincham. after the game, Alty’s two black players had to, firstly, shower with their shirts still on, such was the amount of spit they’d accumulated on their bodies after the home fans had been gobbing at them in sufficient number throughout the match (the home bench also behaved badly in what commentators usually refer to as “disgraceful scenes” pretty much throughout the match, the home fans consistently offered out the away fans, and the away fans responded by increasing their volume to be heard in Peterborough; to cap it all, the ref was shit and couldn’t control a baby’s bathtime; to be fair to the home fans, Alty fans i know were given a warm reception in Boston boozers after the match, which just goes to show the majority always outshine the idiot minority at the match). that was around 4 or 5 years ago, if memory serves (perhaps they were all Factory fans, and thought that Leroy Chambers and Paul Robertson were Alan Erasmus and Alan Erasmus’ cousin, and were hailing them in what they saw as a traditional homage).
not interbred twats at all, oh no.
anyway, enough of this, here’s the letter:
What I am about to say will be deemed “racist” and so you will probably not print it. You see, I bitterly resent the overwhelming presence of foreign people in my England. I have always felt that I have a right to live with my own race, be taught and entertained by my own race, and have my children and grandchildren afforded the same courtesy.
However, everywhere I look now, foreign and “ethnic people” are in high positions. Every large firm’s adverts carry mainly black or Asian actors. The casts of programmes on TV are always at least 50% ethnics. Meanwhile we hear whingeing by the liberal left that we must recruit more ethnics in all our institutions and create discriminatory situations to accommodate them.
The biggest danger are Arabic people who have no intention of integrating and have brought their culture and religions here and insist we accept them. You cannot blame these people, our stupid politicians of every sort are to blame for allowing us to be buried as a race and nation. I know of a young lady who achieved University status but withdrew after a couple of months of being in a class which had only two white students!
After many decades in which coloured people have forced themselves into every nook of our lives they are now forming their own “blacks only” clubs in all our professions etc. Yet similar actions by whites would be called “racist”. To cap it all, the BBC is now using my licence fee to transmit “Asian Radio”! Why are our politicians promoting all this? I cannot fathom it out. – O.W. Dickerson, Stamford, Lincs.
*Incredibly, there is now a National Black Police Association representing 3,000 “coppers”. Can you imagine the outcry if somebody set up a National White Police Association? They’d be arrested! – Ed.
can we just leave it at 'it is all subjective and the opinions of everyone are equally valid, innit' and be done with it?
i wouldn't mind so much about Robin Page, i mean he did get messages of support from ethnic minorities as well as the ethnic majority and it sounded like the police were essentially harming community and race relations with their holier-than-thou PC approach, but his joke was really unfunny and crap.
why did he get fired from One Man and His Dog though?
i remember the controversy at the time, i think it was to do with his overt support for the Countryside Alliance and all that.
mind you, this was around the time of Rod Liddle leaving the today programme and whatnot.
one supposes, in the final analyis, a fairly close parallel might be Jim Davidson who - after all - is so unfunny you might as well charge him with being a non-comedian.
but, you know, whatever you think of the man, he does do a lot for the troops.
why did he get fired from One Man and His Dog though?
i remember the controversy at the time, i think it was to do with his overt support for the Countryside Alliance and all that.
mind you, this was around the time of Rod Liddle leaving the today programme and whatnot.
one supposes, in the final analyis, a fairly close parallel might be Jim Davidson who - after all - is so unfunny you might as well charge him with being a non-comedian.
but, you know, whatever you think of the man, he does do a lot for the troops.
alright, it's all digression at the moment, the belter is later on, same magazine source as that Dame Thora tribute truss me truss me bloggers you'll enjoy oh bwoy will you evah!
my mate told me that in Pakistans 'Sufis are like hereditary peers over here' interesting.
still not got back to Meme about Laswell gah.
the Arawaks was here first
my mate told me that in Pakistans 'Sufis are like hereditary peers over here' interesting.
still not got back to Meme about Laswell gah.
the Arawaks was here first
Michael Howard, smack of firm leadership and all that, that's good, good for them (and his fragrant wife, and he's a Folkestone Invicta fan, so good for him, although my Dr Martens team is Stafford Rangers), but one can't help but pine for the dream ticket that would have been Boris and Gyles.
i saw Boris Johnson once, bicycling down Whitehall (i think somedisco has regaled this anecdote before actually, but it bears repeating), at the Trafalgar end. i was about to cross the road and he whizzed by, so i shouts out "alright Boris" dead loud in my plummy Manc tones and he definitely acknowledged me with a sorta 'oh hello' or 'er alright' as he zipped past, but in hindsight that sort of behaviour is not big or clever, could have caused a traffic accident.
still.
i saw Boris Johnson once, bicycling down Whitehall (i think somedisco has regaled this anecdote before actually, but it bears repeating), at the Trafalgar end. i was about to cross the road and he whizzed by, so i shouts out "alright Boris" dead loud in my plummy Manc tones and he definitely acknowledged me with a sorta 'oh hello' or 'er alright' as he zipped past, but in hindsight that sort of behaviour is not big or clever, could have caused a traffic accident.
still.
should just point out that, re. Jess’ (of course witty too, as Ingram pointed out) rather fabbily written rant about listening to dnb these days, that my mate Dan (Dan got it goin on at the moment, btw, both finding Can fans in the unlikeliest of places and studying cool-ass modules like that one; plus a personal tutor who was mates with Karl Popper no less!) and i both like, and listen to dnb still.
can’t speak for him obv. (although a recent mail confirmed that he has a new pair of decks and is buying up every 12 in sight, and not least salivating over the Dillinja remix Jess mentions there; and luvvin’ it with regards to the new Jaxx LP) but the reason why one couldn’t discuss dnb round here is much the same as why no music ever really gets discussed round here, that is good old-fashioned lack of articulacy to discuss something with a modicum of success. there are a lot of dnb purists about still, certainly in the Mcr area, good lord yes! and, frankly, that fanaticism (what’s that Santayana? fanaticism is redoubling your efforts when you’ve forgotten your aim) gets a little restrictive, and it’s not 1993 or 1997, ooh, don’t know really, but ooh well.
can’t speak for him obv. (although a recent mail confirmed that he has a new pair of decks and is buying up every 12 in sight, and not least salivating over the Dillinja remix Jess mentions there; and luvvin’ it with regards to the new Jaxx LP) but the reason why one couldn’t discuss dnb round here is much the same as why no music ever really gets discussed round here, that is good old-fashioned lack of articulacy to discuss something with a modicum of success. there are a lot of dnb purists about still, certainly in the Mcr area, good lord yes! and, frankly, that fanaticism (what’s that Santayana? fanaticism is redoubling your efforts when you’ve forgotten your aim) gets a little restrictive, and it’s not 1993 or 1997, ooh, don’t know really, but ooh well.
just to quickly digress, must disagree with Simon’s (admittedly well explained and gentle) OutKast hegemony opposition (although the most of it is dismissing the new Jaxx and discussing the trajectory of falling out of love with the purple one, the latter of which seems agreeable from this chair, suppose, TBH; incidentally that Malc who you can see a photo of on the creacall show website, he once (a) got pissed with Fish [from Marillion], (b) got escorted off the premises of Prince’s studio up in MN.; this compares well with my claims to fame of having met Brian McClair, met a junior Labour whip, saw Jeremy Clarkson in a branch of Waterstones in manchester city centre {the smaller branch, FWIW} and seen Edwina Currie reading the Telegraph at New Street station a few years ago). previously when Simon has struck out against hegemony narratives with ref. to mind-expanding artists (particularly the Roots, the Lips, and Common last year on his blog; given that Luke’s favourite Common album unless i’m mistaken is ‘resurrection’, and certainly not ‘electric circus’, {then Spizzazzz krew are the best internet hiphop writers [probably including Tompkins actually eh Ingram? maybe not my beloved Hua Hsu or Nelson George, must admit, actually Tompkins has been on fire the last two Wires, so have to rescind that diktat]} well, you know_Luka is to be trusted over the pros, in all honesty); i think the most interesting thing you can say about the Roots is that it’s a good idea their ‘best ofs’ are numbered so that you can pick up one best of disc and know instantly which song is from which period, i.e., the second album - for instance, and as an example that may actually be inaccurate but what the hey from memory – best of isn’t number 1 to 12, or whatever, but 13 to 25 (one thing that must be mentioned about the Guardian placing them in their US bands list, and here’s a straight out admittance, i’ve never really got the Roots even though it’s easy to see why they should be appreciated, there just seems to be something a little too objectionably brown rice and tofu about their jazzy meanderings for my comfort ETC. and that jockey slut were spot on when they said that early De La or Tribe’s sophomore was still able to do the jazz-rap thing with far more “panache” than the “likes” of the Roots or Digable Planets “ever managed”) it was all agreeable, but the thing is, doubtless (well, not doubtless, but you’d hardly be surprised) snivelling ‘hipster’ (or whatever they’re called) types will soon no doubt start slagging off OutKast ‘cause every focker likes ‘em’ (the onion unusually misfired in one of their shorts recently, actually, on this topic, with a mock-up of the boys meeting Jay Leno, but they’ve been making up for any slackness of course with their whole Ashcroft chases security leak trope; anyway, i digress), although of course SF/J is vital to combat this; so even though of course distinguishing between Simon’s concerns and theirs is easy, still it seems that Simon is not having it from my rattan chair.
OutKast are indeed the year’s best rock band, even if others prefer the Bug or Bugz in the Attic or Sascha Funke or whichever Kompakt release or whoever is big in the nu-rock scene (god help us if it’s the Libertines or the 22-20s), and all well indeed, but it seems to me Outkast’s magnificence is of a special brand, wildly different again (someone at ILM might have accurately – and hopefully jokingly, but you never know, if it was an American, what can i say, but agree with Kodwo, some of those Yank posters are vicious heh-heh – pegged Outkast as white boy hip-hop, but, y’kna, fuck that) from the Flaming Lips more wholegrain fumbling (having noted that, the Flaming Lips at Glastonbury two or three years ago headlining the New Bands tent was one of the best nights of my life [will write about that later on from the perspective of the flaming lips neophyte as one was and still is to illustrate the impact and to show i'm not a complete meanie about Coyne & co.]; i saw them in normal gig situation about 18 months ago and they were just far less inspiring, inspired although still got mad luv as you’d imagine). Outkast are changing the heads of hiphoppers i know and rockers and everyone and grannies and kids and it’s all good and they are to be applauded, if a mass critical consensus decides to start bigging them up all over the shop, for what they’re worth, so be it. Simon’s approach here is perhaps a little out of it, loads of people all over the place love Outkast and can eloquently proselytise for them, and the Fugees of Crunk thing is unfair (that someone on ILM who said that ‘Aquemini’ was whiteboy hiphop and that is true, fair enough, do know loads of white boys who like crappy IDM that love that album, but so what, it’s one of those daft things to write, a tad sniping, a tad mean-spirited, like ‘what’s the point’), they’re risen above the Fugees or the Lips here, and certainly the Roots or whoever else you want to deflate. their A-Town grounding is another special edge, but used less gimmicky one feels than the Fugees Haitian props. Simon admits he’s all ‘hacked-outtt’ which is reasonable, living in that sort of pressure-chamber atmosphere must get to you, but SFJ for me is the man (like that trk on Holmes’ Lets Get Killed, it’s one of the only good things about that, going on about James Bond, that’s funny that) here, what a beautiful job he does bigging them, big up ya chest Sasha! if Outkast get album of the year in UNCUT, MOJO, NME, Q, across the progosphere, even in PF maybe, well maybe you would be surprised because there are some people with what they think are valid concerns about its gloriously misfiring occasionally (but hey, omelette and eggs right), but there again it wouldn’t be too surprising if this double did do really well everywhere across writers’ polls now would it, because everyone has realised that – just perhaps – Outkast are doing something very special here, and they’ve just moved the goalposts (or maybe they haven’t, and one’s being lazy) for a certain type of commercially/critical successful hip-hop, and now vultures will wait for them to flounder and pick over their every move with more alacrity and rigour that would normally be deployed elsewhere. also UNCUT like Def Jux, so that’d be that.
~
having written all the above, in one sentence (Outkast, in my humble opinion are useless), Maff rather beautifully deconstructs it all.
incidentally both that newest rap post and the dancehall post, fuck me, well enjoyable, also Luka on Sizzla was bang on.
crack-head neighbours, argy-bargy with the heart of Heart FM and provoking egg-head aesthethes, it's all happening round chez Ingram, eh?!
OutKast are indeed the year’s best rock band, even if others prefer the Bug or Bugz in the Attic or Sascha Funke or whichever Kompakt release or whoever is big in the nu-rock scene (god help us if it’s the Libertines or the 22-20s), and all well indeed, but it seems to me Outkast’s magnificence is of a special brand, wildly different again (someone at ILM might have accurately – and hopefully jokingly, but you never know, if it was an American, what can i say, but agree with Kodwo, some of those Yank posters are vicious heh-heh – pegged Outkast as white boy hip-hop, but, y’kna, fuck that) from the Flaming Lips more wholegrain fumbling (having noted that, the Flaming Lips at Glastonbury two or three years ago headlining the New Bands tent was one of the best nights of my life [will write about that later on from the perspective of the flaming lips neophyte as one was and still is to illustrate the impact and to show i'm not a complete meanie about Coyne & co.]; i saw them in normal gig situation about 18 months ago and they were just far less inspiring, inspired although still got mad luv as you’d imagine). Outkast are changing the heads of hiphoppers i know and rockers and everyone and grannies and kids and it’s all good and they are to be applauded, if a mass critical consensus decides to start bigging them up all over the shop, for what they’re worth, so be it. Simon’s approach here is perhaps a little out of it, loads of people all over the place love Outkast and can eloquently proselytise for them, and the Fugees of Crunk thing is unfair (that someone on ILM who said that ‘Aquemini’ was whiteboy hiphop and that is true, fair enough, do know loads of white boys who like crappy IDM that love that album, but so what, it’s one of those daft things to write, a tad sniping, a tad mean-spirited, like ‘what’s the point’), they’re risen above the Fugees or the Lips here, and certainly the Roots or whoever else you want to deflate. their A-Town grounding is another special edge, but used less gimmicky one feels than the Fugees Haitian props. Simon admits he’s all ‘hacked-outtt’ which is reasonable, living in that sort of pressure-chamber atmosphere must get to you, but SFJ for me is the man (like that trk on Holmes’ Lets Get Killed, it’s one of the only good things about that, going on about James Bond, that’s funny that) here, what a beautiful job he does bigging them, big up ya chest Sasha! if Outkast get album of the year in UNCUT, MOJO, NME, Q, across the progosphere, even in PF maybe, well maybe you would be surprised because there are some people with what they think are valid concerns about its gloriously misfiring occasionally (but hey, omelette and eggs right), but there again it wouldn’t be too surprising if this double did do really well everywhere across writers’ polls now would it, because everyone has realised that – just perhaps – Outkast are doing something very special here, and they’ve just moved the goalposts (or maybe they haven’t, and one’s being lazy) for a certain type of commercially/critical successful hip-hop, and now vultures will wait for them to flounder and pick over their every move with more alacrity and rigour that would normally be deployed elsewhere. also UNCUT like Def Jux, so that’d be that.
~
having written all the above, in one sentence (Outkast, in my humble opinion are useless), Maff rather beautifully deconstructs it all.
incidentally both that newest rap post and the dancehall post, fuck me, well enjoyable, also Luka on Sizzla was bang on.
crack-head neighbours, argy-bargy with the heart of Heart FM and provoking egg-head aesthethes, it's all happening round chez Ingram, eh?!
Saturday, 1 November 2003
Thora Hird was part of the old school of acting from the north of England - witty, humorous, optimistic, unpretentious and always willing to take a joke at her own expense. Latterly associated with magazine adverts for stairlifts, and as the matriarch in the gentle television comedy Last of the Summer Wine, Thora was the epitome of good manners, good taste and laughter which emanated from the heart, not from snide comments as is so often the case today with modern so-called "stand-up comedians".
Peter Worsley, This England, Summer 2003.
tremendous!
come back later on when i'll have a REAL belter for yous
Peter Worsley, This England, Summer 2003.
tremendous!
come back later on when i'll have a REAL belter for yous
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