was gonna write a load about the CAP two weeks ago, friggin hell, but my views get summarised in, oh well, don't want any european farmers, least of all france's large sector (how many british farmers commit suicide every year? answer: a lot) getting hurt, but it's still not been reformed enough, it comes down to developed economy farmers still essentially getting subsidised a lot, trade barriers, the developing economies, etc.
go to warwick, they have an excellent am. studs. dept. or perhaps iberian studies at bristol. keele's PSR page has fine political links, it's strange how the only political situations i can internally order thoughts on relatively coherently and with a degree of maturity nowadays are international relations affairs type things in what has been known as the third world, when my degree was in politics fullstop.
odd that.
anyway, simon's uberhipster thing, he mentioned after 'bathing at baxters'.
here is the somedisco 'surrealistic pillow' confessional time, then.
ohmigosh, i bought it once, and scalped it about a fortnight later.
i feel rather dirty. onanism, publicly, but with the wrong tools. like a homebase catalogue.
the cover is classic iconography, really nice (if no 'happy trails'), and the celebrated stuff like '...mile' and 'white rabbit' you can get into. but wasn't quite feeling it at the time (far too much bloody mike paradinas and twisted nerve artists and even - daft one this - now not in slightest for me BoC {harsh, but therewehaveit}), and scalped it, for some max romeo, if memory serves.
however, 'somebody to love', well now, that ~is~ good. grace slick, anti-Macca, *don't_ you ~want_ somebody to love you know, you NEED somebody to, etc. it's all good, no romantic bargepole being battered through here, guile was her weapon, bite and she spat it out, really top hole.
deffo one of the greatest rock singles ever.
and so say all of us.
Thursday, 10 July 2003
"The murder of a young Asian inmate by his racist cellmate was yesterday blamed on a 'shocking catalogue of failure'. Zahid Mubarek, 19, was beaten to death by skinhead Robert Stewart, a psychopath who revere the killers of black teenager Stephen Lawrence. In a report into the killing, the Commission for Racial Equality concluded that staff at Feltham Young Offenders' Institution in Middlesex, failed to spot the potential danger. Stewart, 20, bludgeoned the teenager to death with a table leg in March 2000. The two shared a cell for six weeks. Stewart, of Manchester, was jailed for life for murdering Mubarek, of Walthamstow, East London."
failure, a bit more than that, how often do you read of tragic stories re. our young offenders, it's fairly common. a white racist psycho in a cell with a younger asian inmate, come on staff and especially the BOSS, get fired and sort your fucking lives out.
the headline on the free paper re. Gerald Corbett says
DEFIANCE OF DEATH CHARGE RAIL BOSS.
perhaps his big pay-off when he went to Woolworths was in cash and perhaps he blundered onto the pavement one night cause he had so much cash in his pockets and perhaps he hit his head and got amnesia and that's why. perhaps he can't remember the systematic catalogue that one could log against him.
so, yah, perhaps he's got amnesia.
that must be it.
yeah.
failure, a bit more than that, how often do you read of tragic stories re. our young offenders, it's fairly common. a white racist psycho in a cell with a younger asian inmate, come on staff and especially the BOSS, get fired and sort your fucking lives out.
the headline on the free paper re. Gerald Corbett says
DEFIANCE OF DEATH CHARGE RAIL BOSS.
perhaps his big pay-off when he went to Woolworths was in cash and perhaps he blundered onto the pavement one night cause he had so much cash in his pockets and perhaps he hit his head and got amnesia and that's why. perhaps he can't remember the systematic catalogue that one could log against him.
so, yah, perhaps he's got amnesia.
that must be it.
yeah.
Wednesday, 9 July 2003
actually, Luka ain't a corporation yet is he?!
anyway, the truly excellent atimeforfear's 90s piece that he mentions, well it got me thinking, and i recalled this quote in the paper this morning, and this is what it said : -
'This visit is about oil and the military - there is little charitable about it.
Clearly there are oil interests in Africa which would be a benefit to Bush.'
___Prof John Weeks, SOAS.
realpolitik, etc., fair dos like, but it's quite interesting that *he's* saying that, it's hardly the Morning Star is it.
oooh, i don't know like.
P.S.
http://www.soas.ac.uk/
anyway, the truly excellent atimeforfear's 90s piece that he mentions, well it got me thinking, and i recalled this quote in the paper this morning, and this is what it said : -
'This visit is about oil and the military - there is little charitable about it.
Clearly there are oil interests in Africa which would be a benefit to Bush.'
___Prof John Weeks, SOAS.
realpolitik, etc., fair dos like, but it's quite interesting that *he's* saying that, it's hardly the Morning Star is it.
oooh, i don't know like.
P.S.
http://www.soas.ac.uk/
heronbone.co.uk (which any types i know who don't know who i mean still yet, e.g. the odd Manc YES YOU our kid) sez : -
"anyway, i did speak to scott on the phone, and here's what's interesting. for his blog he adopts a kind of public school boy vocabulary, old chaps, chums, and good eggs abound, which is quite amusing and i always sort of thought it was tongue in cheek but it still came as a shock to speak to him on the phone and discover that he sounds just like any other mancunian glue-sniffer!"
i love you too Luka.
;)
"anyway, i did speak to scott on the phone, and here's what's interesting. for his blog he adopts a kind of public school boy vocabulary, old chaps, chums, and good eggs abound, which is quite amusing and i always sort of thought it was tongue in cheek but it still came as a shock to speak to him on the phone and discover that he sounds just like any other mancunian glue-sniffer!"
i love you too Luka.
;)
blimey, the man who Kodwo E. (our finest music journo??) reckons is untouchable (pace the asevertookind Ingram)
basically Luka has trumpets blowing, don't forget we'll all remind any neophytes bout Olu Dara's chops on Illmatic.
my fave Illmatic track to rhyme along with, incidentally, is probably 'half time', which my bezzie would say is "cliched", doutbless, like his initial view of 'dark blue' last night, but don't go according too much to that Cusack 'Identity' (or 'Max' for that matter).
out like a black man at a Millwall match, as a columnist in a HHC magazine once did write, around '93, i forget when though, just quoting someone...
basically Luka has trumpets blowing, don't forget we'll all remind any neophytes bout Olu Dara's chops on Illmatic.
my fave Illmatic track to rhyme along with, incidentally, is probably 'half time', which my bezzie would say is "cliched", doutbless, like his initial view of 'dark blue' last night, but don't go according too much to that Cusack 'Identity' (or 'Max' for that matter).
out like a black man at a Millwall match, as a columnist in a HHC magazine once did write, around '93, i forget when though, just quoting someone...
now the below is interesting : -
http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0328/todaro.php
me and the bezzie and his Mrs. went to see the
new Ron Shelton last night, Brendon Gleeson and
K. Russell in 'Dark Blue' (centred on LAPD c.
Rodney King verdict, riots).
it was OK. Gleeson was deliciously nasty - no
Cromwell in 'LA Confidential' one admits - and
Russell was just a mighty fine piece of ass.
basically his stubble was like Ron Mueck at the
National Gallery fibreglass and his blue eyes
were Biblical.
the only problem with Ving Rhames is whether
you're seeing him in 'Bringing out the Dead',
say, or 'Pulp Fiction' he does the unmodulated speaking voice preacher thing ('My Life in the Bush of Ghosts' sleevenotes) which is great like an emotional hollerer type, but
really he was pretty much on point here.
Russell was nearly likeable and sympathetic
basically, but then he forced his wife away, yadda yadda, horrible feller killed all these folk, etc.
it was all a morass of self-loathing and violence and despicable americans
and racism and corruption and things simmering
under, and has probably, in sum, displaced 'secretary' as either my
second or third fave yankee flick of the year
basically ('trembling before g_d' clearly, and
still Jack as Schmidt). my bezzie was all a bit queasy on the violence tip, but was ready to
discus the joys of the final battle scenes in
'gangs of new york' (which i have NO desire to
catch), so perhaps it was the black folks doing
it? i dunno.;) the supermarion nation helicopters and LA on fire at the end looked a bit cheesy, in a plasticine sense, i dunno, but really, a fairly immovable study of complicity and misdeameanours and the ugly side of justice.
~
erm, certainly white motorists being pulled from
vehicles at the end was sickeningly real, horrific, etc.
my bro dan's views on linenoise (see Comments in below link) about lilya4ever are basically pretty much OTM, am thinking now. posted this breathless review cause a couple of critics i really like (ooh, paying too much attention to critics...) had lauded it, but really praps subconsciously boosted it due to that?
http://www.linenoise.co.uk/reviews/492
aha.
http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0328/todaro.php
me and the bezzie and his Mrs. went to see the
new Ron Shelton last night, Brendon Gleeson and
K. Russell in 'Dark Blue' (centred on LAPD c.
Rodney King verdict, riots).
it was OK. Gleeson was deliciously nasty - no
Cromwell in 'LA Confidential' one admits - and
Russell was just a mighty fine piece of ass.
basically his stubble was like Ron Mueck at the
National Gallery fibreglass and his blue eyes
were Biblical.
the only problem with Ving Rhames is whether
you're seeing him in 'Bringing out the Dead',
say, or 'Pulp Fiction' he does the unmodulated speaking voice preacher thing ('My Life in the Bush of Ghosts' sleevenotes) which is great like an emotional hollerer type, but
really he was pretty much on point here.
Russell was nearly likeable and sympathetic
basically, but then he forced his wife away, yadda yadda, horrible feller killed all these folk, etc.
it was all a morass of self-loathing and violence and despicable americans
and racism and corruption and things simmering
under, and has probably, in sum, displaced 'secretary' as either my
second or third fave yankee flick of the year
basically ('trembling before g_d' clearly, and
still Jack as Schmidt). my bezzie was all a bit queasy on the violence tip, but was ready to
discus the joys of the final battle scenes in
'gangs of new york' (which i have NO desire to
catch), so perhaps it was the black folks doing
it? i dunno.;) the supermarion nation helicopters and LA on fire at the end looked a bit cheesy, in a plasticine sense, i dunno, but really, a fairly immovable study of complicity and misdeameanours and the ugly side of justice.
~
erm, certainly white motorists being pulled from
vehicles at the end was sickeningly real, horrific, etc.
my bro dan's views on linenoise (see Comments in below link) about lilya4ever are basically pretty much OTM, am thinking now. posted this breathless review cause a couple of critics i really like (ooh, paying too much attention to critics...) had lauded it, but really praps subconsciously boosted it due to that?
http://www.linenoise.co.uk/reviews/492
aha.
Monday, 7 July 2003
“I like Ms Dynamite and I like So Solid but I’m sick of this whole London ‘we’re so trendy’ culture that goes hand in hand with these awards.”
Anthony H Wilson, quoted in the Manchester Evening News, February 19th 2003, discussing nominations for the Brit Awards of that time. basically the provinces (speaking as a stern and fiercely proud regional nationalist) often have very unwarranted chips on their shoulders about our fair capital, a lot of it is nonsense, and unfortunately Wor Tone seems to be succumbing here.
Alas.
Factory’s finest brain (or is that Alan Erasmus?) and his frank regional ‘nationalism’. there was an interview in City Life, last spring or so, where Wilson was airing his views about garage;Wilson told how he liked some garage. However, he reckoned the flood of so much “pop-garage” (think he used that description) on the market was turning him away from the music, something like that. And there was a good bit bigging up nu-metal (it was early in 2002) over the garage rock/Sleazenationey bands revival as something that the younger kids would get into; 11 year olds into Linkin Park whilst 15 year old big siblings ride the White Stripes tip. The crudities of nu-metal (SR ahoy) seemed to suggest it was the ‘realer’ form to get, then appreciating hipper Antipodean/NY fashion/Detroit archaeologist bands later on (or he might have mentioned NAM outfits, remember the date, recall that all that Turin Brakes/Kings of Convenience malarkey was just about, still, then). That’s what it looked like he was implying anyway.
He did mention at that juncture, a personal distaste for what he saw as biases towards London, and coverage of London scenes, in the British pop music press. So this is clearly something that has been on Tony’s mind for awhile, you could probably say. And might it be reasonable to say that – as someone who has made his money making, talking about, and even trying to second-guess pop music in his funny “cultist” (T. Ewing, not directly discussing Wilson) way – this rankles with Wilson out of all proportion to its real import? Maybe not, he could be being ironic (still a get-out clause eh?). The last time he was spotted in the local rag was to voice displeasure about a lap-dancing club that was being proposed in a location right near where he lived; he was only being a dutiful father on this point, after all. basically the 13 year cycle thing (or whatever) has always appealed to me, but nah mate, not having it. he is funny bless him, he swears on the regional news (in which he’s announced he’s quitting; quoted in local rag tonight ShockAH!)
Within the sphere of pop music production, consumption, plus the rest, the relations between London and the big provincial towns seem quite interesting here. Liverpool gifted us the Beatles, but it seems that – even though trading on that nostalgia remains good for Merseyside business – whilst Manchester tries to move forward a bit musically, Liverpool has had a bit of a “hangover”, as Dave Haslam put it, about the Fab Four. Of course, when Haslam said that, he also acknowledged everything that’s happened in Scouseland since the Sixties. The hangover is cured now really it seems, although not convinced that cobbling together a few thoughts on Ladytron, the Bandits and the Stands demonstrably proves the existence of the massive renaissance over there that seems a stock thing to observe. Must just add the last time pop journalism became such cliché – one means the amount of column inches devoted to the wonderful, ooh, sea shanties influences of the Coral – was probably to note that some tracks on the last proper RD James full length had Satie-like (but inferior, obviously) touches on the ivories.
Where was we? Oh yeah, Manchester’s pop heritage. Well, ignoring stuff like a Keele University student mistakenly identifying Bob Dylan as an old mate of the Messiah’s there back in the day, let’s fast forward to the first time the Sex Pistols played outside London. They played in Manchester of course. Buzzcocks, ACR, blah blah bleh. have recently been celebrated afresh, the latter even privileged with the Soul Jazz treatment (an old gaffer was best mates with their drummer; some of them were Wythenshawe bred i believe).
Then a young man from Macclesfield kills himself watching an intellectual movie (Rocket from the Tombs were better, and then Keith Hudson is better anyway). The Smiths become the favourite band of the NME ever, New Order, the Fall, etc., yadda yadda will this do. Gretton was a bit working class and Wilson, after all, a poncey effete graduate.
Anyway, Wilson always seemed to be a bit rock (a Leonard Cohen fan no less!), until he got his now practically infamous conversion moment, on the floor of the Hac or whatever, takes a few drugs, oh yeah i get it, democratising no rock concert rallies round here, oh yeah.
Lately you can always see him slagging off dance, does he think that the now long dead superclubs and a few prog DJs represented all that was? Hmm, of course, you do get a lot of indie/alt. types nowadays bigging up the trend for fractured, diverse scenes in clubland (Club Suicide here in Mcr, for instance, is a popular electrotrash/trash type nite innit, with suitably pretentious clientele {judging from the punter profile in last Friday’s Punter Profile section of the evening news’ clubbing bit} inna Dazed stylee) as a good thing, and sometimes one resents that, think some of them might be coming at it from the wrong angle.
Still, what does one know, etc.
‘tis, of course, generally good eggs all round, praps even faberge.
Dogbert (at the Gaming Commission): My concept is a casino exclusively for morons.
Imagine a room full of oblivious dolts, and I’m taking advantage of them for personal gain.
Commissioner: When would that concept begin?
Dogbert: About a minute ago.
Ah, Dilbert.
With a fair wind PLIF is pretty good, as was the Far Side back in the day. An on-song Calvin and Hobbes is fairly hard to beat, whilst both the much-missed Shoe and Doonesbury (infuriatingly inconsistent, if you’re honest) sent you to a perfect marriage of content and form far cheaper than a complete set of Tolstoy’s longer works.
But Dilbert or Redmeat has to be it, really, one would say.
‘Bein’ a celebrity don’t mean shit to me…it’s the Airforce One…trainers by the truckload, trainers by the ton…east London…sweet as a nut, mate, sweet as a nut…sweet like Tropicana…this could get hectic…’FIX UP LOOK SHARP’.
That Yentob show the other night about hip-hop was pretty good, although on reflection Andrew Pettie’s
At one point Yentob remarks that ‘the world [by which he means Alan Yentob] has discovered that Eminem is just the tip of the iceberg’, which roughly equates to an American film-maker meeting David Beckham and then concluding that this soccer business might just catch on.
stayed with me quite a bit.
My two most exciting Em things of late have been what Heaney said about him voltage always carry a light bulb IMAGINE etc. (fair comment, methinks) which everyone saw, and what Luka said about him rapping on a ’50 cent’ cut, which probably less people saw cause Luka ain’t as well known as Heaney. One would like to envisage a situation where the church of me is more popular than uncut, twanboc more popular than q, spizazz more popular than kerrang, skykicking more popular than the nme and joshblog more popular than mojo (having noted that, blissblog probably does have about as many regular readers as the observer).
In the local rag a couple of nights ago some bloke in Stockport, Offerton to be precise, is getting fined by H&S for having a dirty atmos in his restaurant. But can you fault anyone with such cool names for their dishes – he’s a County fan – as the following :
“Stockport County fanatic Abdul Basher…launched his County Classics menu in 2002…dishes…include the Kilner Keema Karahi…the Big Kev Korma…the Balti Bhuna Bellis…a plate of poppodums named after manager Carlton Palmer…the Danny Dhansak.”
That’s brill that is, at least he’s put some effort in. The Kilner sounds especially good from here, and also the Danny.
‘The Margolis book did the reverse, portraying the “racist ogre” as a devoted, home-living, family man who had black friends, gave to Asian charities and was fiercely loyal and benevolent to his north Manchester community.
Unexpected names have leapt to Manning’s defence. Stephen Fry once said he regarded Manning as one of the finest joke-tellers, and Manchester-born novelist Howard Jacobson compared Bernard with Aristophanes, calling him a “priest” of his craft.’
Paul Taylor.
‘He thought they didn’t understand and tried to explain the references as he went along. It was excruciating. He died in Bombay all right, a slow agonising death. In the end he gave up and walked out in mid-act, blaming the microphone and swearing profusely. The producer-director, Norman Hull, played a grotesque laughter track over his departure. It sounded like jeering. The heffalump had been trapped, stuffed and “fucking stitched up”.
‘Killer Hornets Attack’ (Five) was about deadly Japanese giant hornets, the size of large flying prawns, which kill about 40 people a year with their venomous sting, slaughter whole colonies of honey bees and eat their larvae.
Compared with some television producers, they seem quite benevolent.’
Paul Hoggart.
Regular readers may well, or even not (believe somedisco has one or two of these rare creatures, if only because that’s the number of regular flamers), be aware of one’s adoration for the Chapman brothers. . i’d like to tell Dinos that one of the new exhibitions at the municipal art gallery in mcr has some of his words on a wall, in the information room no less! And pretty damn fine his words are, to be fair. In the paper of record styled way.
However, this was funny ===>
‘Dinos’s view, it should be pointed out, has little to do with sympathy for the Royal Family and everything to do with the fact that he and his brother were also victims of Barschak at the Modern Art Oxford gallery last month.
“He punched Jake and threw paint all over him,” said Dinos at last week’s private view of The Art of Chess exhibition at Somerset House in London, to which they contributed a typically striking chess set. “We didn’t press charges because we think that’s what he wanted.”
Barschak claimed that his attack was motivated by outrage at the brothers’ Turner Prize-nominated work The Rape of Creativity, in which they defaced a rare original of Goya’s The Disasters of War.
“How could he say we were ruining Goya?” asked Dinos. “We improved Goya. We bought that print for £20,000 and sold it for £125,000. That says it all.”’
Well, art is commodity and so fair dos to Dinos (Jay Jopling stumped up the cash actually, apparently), but in this case – we sold it at profit, so that’s an ‘improvement’? Hmm.
You recall that television programme, ‘Under the Sun’? It was, essentially, popular anthropology.
Well, quite.
Anthony H Wilson, quoted in the Manchester Evening News, February 19th 2003, discussing nominations for the Brit Awards of that time. basically the provinces (speaking as a stern and fiercely proud regional nationalist) often have very unwarranted chips on their shoulders about our fair capital, a lot of it is nonsense, and unfortunately Wor Tone seems to be succumbing here.
Alas.
Factory’s finest brain (or is that Alan Erasmus?) and his frank regional ‘nationalism’. there was an interview in City Life, last spring or so, where Wilson was airing his views about garage;Wilson told how he liked some garage. However, he reckoned the flood of so much “pop-garage” (think he used that description) on the market was turning him away from the music, something like that. And there was a good bit bigging up nu-metal (it was early in 2002) over the garage rock/Sleazenationey bands revival as something that the younger kids would get into; 11 year olds into Linkin Park whilst 15 year old big siblings ride the White Stripes tip. The crudities of nu-metal (SR ahoy) seemed to suggest it was the ‘realer’ form to get, then appreciating hipper Antipodean/NY fashion/Detroit archaeologist bands later on (or he might have mentioned NAM outfits, remember the date, recall that all that Turin Brakes/Kings of Convenience malarkey was just about, still, then). That’s what it looked like he was implying anyway.
He did mention at that juncture, a personal distaste for what he saw as biases towards London, and coverage of London scenes, in the British pop music press. So this is clearly something that has been on Tony’s mind for awhile, you could probably say. And might it be reasonable to say that – as someone who has made his money making, talking about, and even trying to second-guess pop music in his funny “cultist” (T. Ewing, not directly discussing Wilson) way – this rankles with Wilson out of all proportion to its real import? Maybe not, he could be being ironic (still a get-out clause eh?). The last time he was spotted in the local rag was to voice displeasure about a lap-dancing club that was being proposed in a location right near where he lived; he was only being a dutiful father on this point, after all. basically the 13 year cycle thing (or whatever) has always appealed to me, but nah mate, not having it. he is funny bless him, he swears on the regional news (in which he’s announced he’s quitting; quoted in local rag tonight ShockAH!)
Within the sphere of pop music production, consumption, plus the rest, the relations between London and the big provincial towns seem quite interesting here. Liverpool gifted us the Beatles, but it seems that – even though trading on that nostalgia remains good for Merseyside business – whilst Manchester tries to move forward a bit musically, Liverpool has had a bit of a “hangover”, as Dave Haslam put it, about the Fab Four. Of course, when Haslam said that, he also acknowledged everything that’s happened in Scouseland since the Sixties. The hangover is cured now really it seems, although not convinced that cobbling together a few thoughts on Ladytron, the Bandits and the Stands demonstrably proves the existence of the massive renaissance over there that seems a stock thing to observe. Must just add the last time pop journalism became such cliché – one means the amount of column inches devoted to the wonderful, ooh, sea shanties influences of the Coral – was probably to note that some tracks on the last proper RD James full length had Satie-like (but inferior, obviously) touches on the ivories.
Where was we? Oh yeah, Manchester’s pop heritage. Well, ignoring stuff like a Keele University student mistakenly identifying Bob Dylan as an old mate of the Messiah’s there back in the day, let’s fast forward to the first time the Sex Pistols played outside London. They played in Manchester of course. Buzzcocks, ACR, blah blah bleh. have recently been celebrated afresh, the latter even privileged with the Soul Jazz treatment (an old gaffer was best mates with their drummer; some of them were Wythenshawe bred i believe).
Then a young man from Macclesfield kills himself watching an intellectual movie (Rocket from the Tombs were better, and then Keith Hudson is better anyway). The Smiths become the favourite band of the NME ever, New Order, the Fall, etc., yadda yadda will this do. Gretton was a bit working class and Wilson, after all, a poncey effete graduate.
Anyway, Wilson always seemed to be a bit rock (a Leonard Cohen fan no less!), until he got his now practically infamous conversion moment, on the floor of the Hac or whatever, takes a few drugs, oh yeah i get it, democratising no rock concert rallies round here, oh yeah.
Lately you can always see him slagging off dance, does he think that the now long dead superclubs and a few prog DJs represented all that was? Hmm, of course, you do get a lot of indie/alt. types nowadays bigging up the trend for fractured, diverse scenes in clubland (Club Suicide here in Mcr, for instance, is a popular electrotrash/trash type nite innit, with suitably pretentious clientele {judging from the punter profile in last Friday’s Punter Profile section of the evening news’ clubbing bit} inna Dazed stylee) as a good thing, and sometimes one resents that, think some of them might be coming at it from the wrong angle.
Still, what does one know, etc.
‘tis, of course, generally good eggs all round, praps even faberge.
Dogbert (at the Gaming Commission): My concept is a casino exclusively for morons.
Imagine a room full of oblivious dolts, and I’m taking advantage of them for personal gain.
Commissioner: When would that concept begin?
Dogbert: About a minute ago.
Ah, Dilbert.
With a fair wind PLIF is pretty good, as was the Far Side back in the day. An on-song Calvin and Hobbes is fairly hard to beat, whilst both the much-missed Shoe and Doonesbury (infuriatingly inconsistent, if you’re honest) sent you to a perfect marriage of content and form far cheaper than a complete set of Tolstoy’s longer works.
But Dilbert or Redmeat has to be it, really, one would say.
‘Bein’ a celebrity don’t mean shit to me…it’s the Airforce One…trainers by the truckload, trainers by the ton…east London…sweet as a nut, mate, sweet as a nut…sweet like Tropicana…this could get hectic…’FIX UP LOOK SHARP’.
That Yentob show the other night about hip-hop was pretty good, although on reflection Andrew Pettie’s
At one point Yentob remarks that ‘the world [by which he means Alan Yentob] has discovered that Eminem is just the tip of the iceberg’, which roughly equates to an American film-maker meeting David Beckham and then concluding that this soccer business might just catch on.
stayed with me quite a bit.
My two most exciting Em things of late have been what Heaney said about him voltage always carry a light bulb IMAGINE etc. (fair comment, methinks) which everyone saw, and what Luka said about him rapping on a ’50 cent’ cut, which probably less people saw cause Luka ain’t as well known as Heaney. One would like to envisage a situation where the church of me is more popular than uncut, twanboc more popular than q, spizazz more popular than kerrang, skykicking more popular than the nme and joshblog more popular than mojo (having noted that, blissblog probably does have about as many regular readers as the observer).
In the local rag a couple of nights ago some bloke in Stockport, Offerton to be precise, is getting fined by H&S for having a dirty atmos in his restaurant. But can you fault anyone with such cool names for their dishes – he’s a County fan – as the following :
“Stockport County fanatic Abdul Basher…launched his County Classics menu in 2002…dishes…include the Kilner Keema Karahi…the Big Kev Korma…the Balti Bhuna Bellis…a plate of poppodums named after manager Carlton Palmer…the Danny Dhansak.”
That’s brill that is, at least he’s put some effort in. The Kilner sounds especially good from here, and also the Danny.
‘The Margolis book did the reverse, portraying the “racist ogre” as a devoted, home-living, family man who had black friends, gave to Asian charities and was fiercely loyal and benevolent to his north Manchester community.
Unexpected names have leapt to Manning’s defence. Stephen Fry once said he regarded Manning as one of the finest joke-tellers, and Manchester-born novelist Howard Jacobson compared Bernard with Aristophanes, calling him a “priest” of his craft.’
Paul Taylor.
‘He thought they didn’t understand and tried to explain the references as he went along. It was excruciating. He died in Bombay all right, a slow agonising death. In the end he gave up and walked out in mid-act, blaming the microphone and swearing profusely. The producer-director, Norman Hull, played a grotesque laughter track over his departure. It sounded like jeering. The heffalump had been trapped, stuffed and “fucking stitched up”.
‘Killer Hornets Attack’ (Five) was about deadly Japanese giant hornets, the size of large flying prawns, which kill about 40 people a year with their venomous sting, slaughter whole colonies of honey bees and eat their larvae.
Compared with some television producers, they seem quite benevolent.’
Paul Hoggart.
Regular readers may well, or even not (believe somedisco has one or two of these rare creatures, if only because that’s the number of regular flamers), be aware of one’s adoration for the Chapman brothers. . i’d like to tell Dinos that one of the new exhibitions at the municipal art gallery in mcr has some of his words on a wall, in the information room no less! And pretty damn fine his words are, to be fair. In the paper of record styled way.
However, this was funny ===>
‘Dinos’s view, it should be pointed out, has little to do with sympathy for the Royal Family and everything to do with the fact that he and his brother were also victims of Barschak at the Modern Art Oxford gallery last month.
“He punched Jake and threw paint all over him,” said Dinos at last week’s private view of The Art of Chess exhibition at Somerset House in London, to which they contributed a typically striking chess set. “We didn’t press charges because we think that’s what he wanted.”
Barschak claimed that his attack was motivated by outrage at the brothers’ Turner Prize-nominated work The Rape of Creativity, in which they defaced a rare original of Goya’s The Disasters of War.
“How could he say we were ruining Goya?” asked Dinos. “We improved Goya. We bought that print for £20,000 and sold it for £125,000. That says it all.”’
Well, art is commodity and so fair dos to Dinos (Jay Jopling stumped up the cash actually, apparently), but in this case – we sold it at profit, so that’s an ‘improvement’? Hmm.
You recall that television programme, ‘Under the Sun’? It was, essentially, popular anthropology.
Well, quite.
Thursday, 3 July 2003
Shipp, is it?, Shipp and his mate, they who are Spring Heel Jack anyway, they did a good jazz one a bit ago, anyway, they used to live in Hackney and there was a good interview in the Wire once about them living there and scoping shops for the latest jungle releases.
back in the day.
my esteemed colleague Weaver has a barnstorming entry about Guantanamo Bay, over at his
http://www.daweaver.free-online.co.uk/
and see Sun.06.July entry.
go check the bro!
back in the day.
my esteemed colleague Weaver has a barnstorming entry about Guantanamo Bay, over at his
http://www.daweaver.free-online.co.uk/
and see Sun.06.July entry.
go check the bro!
well k-punk and pillbox are absolutely storming today.
did you see that the Israeli government has, well
http://www.guardian.co.uk/israel/Story/0,2763,988767,00.html
is it. they've, basically, stopped aiding Auntie.
i read a long report in possibly not the best of places to read about it (okay, it was the beloved daily express) but it does seem that mr danny seaman does not have too much of a case quite frankly.
the suicide bomber baby, well, okay, maybe they do there.
the Israeli govt. protested that Orla Guerin (who is, of course, lovely) made 3 three references (if memory serves) questioning the authenticity of the photo, when two Palestinian interviewees had not made any such references.
but the express seemed to be implying (at least, that's what one inferred) that the Israeli govt. were ~proper~ (with apologies to Ingram ;p) toys out of pram with ref. to mentions of Sabra and Chatila (sp?) in the Sharon, My Role in Phalangists Rum Do Style. Etc.
now fair dos to Sharon nowadays, he doesn't even have to actually *really* want to trust anyone or really want what Abbas wants, BUT (crucially) he is DOING it, going along with the roadmap so fair dos like.
but the Beeb moaning about the Sabra and Chatila massacres?! well, be reasonable Mr Seaman, it *was* a ~large~ tragic event, and an Israeli military body did find that Mr Sharon bore some responsibility, so, yunno...
did you see that the Israeli government has, well
http://www.guardian.co.uk/israel/Story/0,2763,988767,00.html
is it. they've, basically, stopped aiding Auntie.
i read a long report in possibly not the best of places to read about it (okay, it was the beloved daily express) but it does seem that mr danny seaman does not have too much of a case quite frankly.
the suicide bomber baby, well, okay, maybe they do there.
the Israeli govt. protested that Orla Guerin (who is, of course, lovely) made 3 three references (if memory serves) questioning the authenticity of the photo, when two Palestinian interviewees had not made any such references.
but the express seemed to be implying (at least, that's what one inferred) that the Israeli govt. were ~proper~ (with apologies to Ingram ;p) toys out of pram with ref. to mentions of Sabra and Chatila (sp?) in the Sharon, My Role in Phalangists Rum Do Style. Etc.
now fair dos to Sharon nowadays, he doesn't even have to actually *really* want to trust anyone or really want what Abbas wants, BUT (crucially) he is DOING it, going along with the roadmap so fair dos like.
but the Beeb moaning about the Sabra and Chatila massacres?! well, be reasonable Mr Seaman, it *was* a ~large~ tragic event, and an Israeli military body did find that Mr Sharon bore some responsibility, so, yunno...
young Ingram seems to be throwing toys out of pram (when not linking to Dan S.e.l.z.e.r.'s monumentally kewl techno history) today.;) up in arms 'bout Nathalie Nixed listening to 'Fix Up Look Sharp'. she's probably got it off the net mate!
must say, i heard this on the second tape i've ever received off Luka and it's bloody marvellous, i like
"sweet as a nut mate, sweet as a nut...sweet like Tropicana" and all that stuff about trainers; and Air Force One is good too. if i was any good at discussing garage like messrs Davis or Ingram i would have posted something yonks ago, the TWL sent me his first E15 missive many moons ago, and i'm still cogitating, really like Sharkie best, he's the fecking don.
yes, Sharkie Major is the best, and Wiley i like his voice, i like how it sounds like you could be hoisting a Portuguese guitarra aloft with him in some little cork boarded woodmen's hut in forests of plateaued Central Spain, whilst we hear the woodcutters outside and drink a lot of rose.
yes, it's a rich, rosy voice is basically what i'm trying to say.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/3040388.stm
the above is quite interesting.
my mate Rob has just finished a stint as an assistant to the MP for Tottenham, Mr David Lammy, who used to stroll with that June dizzy bird on C4, you know she was alongside comedy yonner type Vernon Kay, Sarpong that's it.
anyway, old Rob talks about this a lot (i mean see the link above) all the above; very worrying and awful really, and certainly apparently "inter-ethnic violence" is rearing its head in a big, unsavoury way; not just around the Green Lanes either.
awful business.
must say, i heard this on the second tape i've ever received off Luka and it's bloody marvellous, i like
"sweet as a nut mate, sweet as a nut...sweet like Tropicana" and all that stuff about trainers; and Air Force One is good too. if i was any good at discussing garage like messrs Davis or Ingram i would have posted something yonks ago, the TWL sent me his first E15 missive many moons ago, and i'm still cogitating, really like Sharkie best, he's the fecking don.
yes, Sharkie Major is the best, and Wiley i like his voice, i like how it sounds like you could be hoisting a Portuguese guitarra aloft with him in some little cork boarded woodmen's hut in forests of plateaued Central Spain, whilst we hear the woodcutters outside and drink a lot of rose.
yes, it's a rich, rosy voice is basically what i'm trying to say.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/3040388.stm
the above is quite interesting.
my mate Rob has just finished a stint as an assistant to the MP for Tottenham, Mr David Lammy, who used to stroll with that June dizzy bird on C4, you know she was alongside comedy yonner type Vernon Kay, Sarpong that's it.
anyway, old Rob talks about this a lot (i mean see the link above) all the above; very worrying and awful really, and certainly apparently "inter-ethnic violence" is rearing its head in a big, unsavoury way; not just around the Green Lanes either.
awful business.
tina chadha's recent piece at the v.voice on "Young South Asians' Love-Hate Relationship with Hip-Hop's New Indian Beats" can be found at_____
http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0327/chadha.php
it's a fine (scratch that, excellent) piece of writing. i didn't know 'mundian to bach ke' is only getting released round about now over there (it was Jan. 10th over here, and it's been around for years in other countries even on the continent). notice how it has to be titled 'beware of the boys'. huh (and americans have to be *told* how to ~pronounce~ punjabi)?
in Simon's recent uberhipster ballots, Sasha F-J noted that, currently, as hot as the sun (or somesuch) was : -
South Asian fusion/desi/bhangra
now, the Chadha piece deals with why this is blowing up now over there (half-assed fusioneering attempts of block-rockin' hip-hoppers plundering the rich desitunes trove, but - in a gets all we wuz here first on yo azz moment - kids in Southall and Leicester and Yardley have been vibing over crosscultural waxings inna pop stylee for years. so~, nyah to the Yankees on this.;)
i must admit, i was 10 before i'd heard the word bhangra and 11 before i heard *any* bhangra tracks, but even then...
http://www.villagevoice.com/issues/0327/chadha.php
it's a fine (scratch that, excellent) piece of writing. i didn't know 'mundian to bach ke' is only getting released round about now over there (it was Jan. 10th over here, and it's been around for years in other countries even on the continent). notice how it has to be titled 'beware of the boys'. huh (and americans have to be *told* how to ~pronounce~ punjabi)?
in Simon's recent uberhipster ballots, Sasha F-J noted that, currently, as hot as the sun (or somesuch) was : -
South Asian fusion/desi/bhangra
now, the Chadha piece deals with why this is blowing up now over there (half-assed fusioneering attempts of block-rockin' hip-hoppers plundering the rich desitunes trove, but - in a gets all we wuz here first on yo azz moment - kids in Southall and Leicester and Yardley have been vibing over crosscultural waxings inna pop stylee for years. so~, nyah to the Yankees on this.;)
i must admit, i was 10 before i'd heard the word bhangra and 11 before i heard *any* bhangra tracks, but even then...
Wednesday, 2 July 2003
Tuesday, 1 July 2003
The fundamental problem is that there’s a rothko print next to a papyrus (actual papyrus, honestly) thing of tutankhamen’s death mask, next to a poster of a CoBrA exhibition, all on the same wall. And one other abstract squiggle.
So we’ve a representative of a polytheistic society (my favourite will probably always be bes, the cheery god of the hearth, if only cause all the pictures scoped round our way resemble a dwarven character from the livingstone and jackson fighting fantasy series) next to the peaceful and meditative {and jewish, right? Emigrated from russia/ukraine right, born 1903, committed suicide 1970} (rothko is about spiritual presence basically ain’t he, to get it down to a generalised bottom line) and a load of outsider art influenced herberts.
So the problem is can this spiritual presence exist next to a bloodthirsty polytheistic society rep.
Rothko, hughes reckons, is supposed to be an american combination of turner and michelangelo; the early 50s or so saw his refinement of the colour blocks method (and the personal somedisco fave remains a big orange one, c.1950, at the art institute of chicago, which was awesome and – honestly – sublime, in all probability). Tate modern has some of the seagram murals in a light controlled room and they’re rather underwhelming frankly; also, one of the water lilies triptych (MoMA, New York has another one, if memory serves) is next, and that rather acts to dispose you towards monet and away from rothko by the time you’ve got that far. i saw one nice one at SF MoMA, do believe.
Rothko ideally needs to be appreciated – even more so than many others, who can look quite pleasant in a small postcard on your dresser, or on the corkboard – in the big flesh (BIG canvases), and it’s just a case if a big red thing can be next to a cobra poster. The answer will probably be no, to be frank, but the votes aren’t all in yet.
Look at the shifting Richter, and then look how Rothko (after much admirable and impressive research, etc., to be sure; check the NGA, D.C., website for a nice feature on him, when it’s online…) arrived at his mature style, and basically got there, and stayed put. Bridget riley at least caught the bus, if not to the next city, at least to the county line. That’s the problem and always allure of rothko. American landscape, unlike the more frantic Pollock, but look at Turner’s landscapes after reading Burkian thoughts on the terrible Sublime, and Turner just – it seems, anyway – can’t be exhausted. He’s canonically uber-strong, or –whatever-. But rothko, eventually, one suspects, will he dry up?
Robert Hughes certainly seems to think so.
So we’ve a representative of a polytheistic society (my favourite will probably always be bes, the cheery god of the hearth, if only cause all the pictures scoped round our way resemble a dwarven character from the livingstone and jackson fighting fantasy series) next to the peaceful and meditative {and jewish, right? Emigrated from russia/ukraine right, born 1903, committed suicide 1970} (rothko is about spiritual presence basically ain’t he, to get it down to a generalised bottom line) and a load of outsider art influenced herberts.
So the problem is can this spiritual presence exist next to a bloodthirsty polytheistic society rep.
Rothko, hughes reckons, is supposed to be an american combination of turner and michelangelo; the early 50s or so saw his refinement of the colour blocks method (and the personal somedisco fave remains a big orange one, c.1950, at the art institute of chicago, which was awesome and – honestly – sublime, in all probability). Tate modern has some of the seagram murals in a light controlled room and they’re rather underwhelming frankly; also, one of the water lilies triptych (MoMA, New York has another one, if memory serves) is next, and that rather acts to dispose you towards monet and away from rothko by the time you’ve got that far. i saw one nice one at SF MoMA, do believe.
Rothko ideally needs to be appreciated – even more so than many others, who can look quite pleasant in a small postcard on your dresser, or on the corkboard – in the big flesh (BIG canvases), and it’s just a case if a big red thing can be next to a cobra poster. The answer will probably be no, to be frank, but the votes aren’t all in yet.
Look at the shifting Richter, and then look how Rothko (after much admirable and impressive research, etc., to be sure; check the NGA, D.C., website for a nice feature on him, when it’s online…) arrived at his mature style, and basically got there, and stayed put. Bridget riley at least caught the bus, if not to the next city, at least to the county line. That’s the problem and always allure of rothko. American landscape, unlike the more frantic Pollock, but look at Turner’s landscapes after reading Burkian thoughts on the terrible Sublime, and Turner just – it seems, anyway – can’t be exhausted. He’s canonically uber-strong, or –whatever-. But rothko, eventually, one suspects, will he dry up?
Robert Hughes certainly seems to think so.
i spose we all await the k-punk response; the boys Ingram and Davis are on the same page, and it was an interesting one, certainly thought provoking.
are theologians and moral philosophers about to get invited into the music blogs; one does wonder...
...manson listened to 'the white album' etc. yadda yadda.
are theologians and moral philosophers about to get invited into the music blogs; one does wonder...
...manson listened to 'the white album' etc. yadda yadda.
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