Mick Talbot, later of The Style Council with Paul Weller, when he was with The Merton Parkas saw an early Dexy’s Midnight Runners gig.
Afterwards he went up to Kevin Rowland and asked if he knew (who) Geno Washington (was)?
“Who?” said Rowland…
Woke up this morning.
But enough about my latest disappointment. Tea?
I’m TV-free. Quite deliberately. I do tend to watch rented DVD sets of shows I think I’ll like and have, of late, watched old shows I missed from the past decade via the website tv-links.eu, as do many, I’m led to believe.
Had a look in today to check on something for myself and my housemate to watch this evening and - ta-da - all the reliable links have been stripped out leaving the paylinks and a few token very dodgy ones. OK, I thought, I’ll check something contemporary that’s popular with the masses now that I’m not watching. Ditto. After checking several sample episodes of varying different shows it appears all the popular free host sites have been purged from the listings. But there’s no mention of this on the site itself.
I looked online, did a few searches. There’s not mention of this anywhere. “Que?” So, I think, is this another bastardcorp Windoesn’t update stashing nannyware on my PC blocking stuff on my browser (Chrome, for ref)? Just on the offchance I roll back the PC and… same thing. Could just be some form of maintenance, but a bit suspicious.
Curious. I’m not so bothered; tv doesn’t dominate my life and things turn up somewhere eventually if I can be arsed (libraries are useful for this too, you know that place where they have books). But I’m intrigued by the lack of greater-public notation (so far) and/or the PC fiddlesomeness. We’ll see.
(a poem by John Cooper Clarke)
give him the moonlight
give him the dawn
a stove pipe hat like Frankie Vaughan
he’s off to do somebody’s lawn
who’s that then. Martin Newell
rock a doodle doodle do
the man has got two jobs to do
they call him germinator two
who. Martin Newell
it’s hard the graft
and scant ‘o play
each twenty-four hour working day
for a nine-yard poem
and a pile of hay
hey. Martin Newell
he makes me feel like an idle slob
for only having one job
he’s certainly got the gift of the gob
sod. Martin Newell
off with the duvet
under the light
from bed to verse in the dead of night
insomnia written all over his kite
spritely. Martin Newell
lady chatterly was looking for a lover
for a little bit of this that and yes some of the other
who had all three angles covered.
is your garden overgrown
a sad reflection on your home
a pestilential disaster zone
phone. Martin Newell
he’ll gladly tangle with the weeds
and meet all your herbacious needs
and then he’s got a gig in leeds
who’s that then. Martin Newell
with a shank and a shovel
the rhythm of the rake
the garden of eden without the snake
who did the business for fucks sake
fit like a fiddle
drinks like a fish
you should be so tough you wish
he’s got muscles in his piss
who’s this. Martin Newell
a shallow dish of slender gruel
and a pint of ale his only fuel
goes by the name of Martin Newell
who’s that then. Martin Newell
every seven years it’s said
Martin Newell goes to bed
that’s enough poems. ed
(a poem by Martin Newell)
David uses his spare time
For dreaming up new styles
He never spends Whit Monday
In the bathroom, grouting tiles
David’s early efforts
Often dwelt on alienation
He never noted Diesels
Or hung out on Reading station
David shaved both eyebrows
And the net effect was arty
He never had just one done
While unconscious at a party
David in his sixth decade
Still has a head of hair on
And not some strands resembling
A barcode printed thereon
David orders goodies
From an oriental teashop
He doesn’t trawl for bargains
In the pound and 50p shop
David dabbled earlier on
With Genet, Brecht and Fassbinder
He didn’t lie on sofas
Drinking “spesh” and watching Minder
David put on make-up
And a dress, in search of glamour
And unlike you, he wasn’t chased
By skinheads with a hammer
David says “Good evening.
Here’s a song of mine from Low”
And never: “Orright, Dog’s Head?
This is one by Status Quo…”
Another thing with David
Is he keeps himself in trim
But the single biggest difference
Is: your wife still fancies him.
AN IRREGULAR VERB
We have Freedom Fighters
You have Guerrillas
They have Terrorists
Before Watchmen made me quit DC because I finally understood that the comics industry is more than willing to eat its best and brightest, and to do it with a smile. Everything Alan Moore gave to DC, from the germ of an idea that led to the current Green Lantern comics to Vertigo existing thanks in no small part to Swamp Thing, counts for nothing. When you get right down to it, the response has been, “Well, Alan. Them’s the breaks, yeah? Sign a better contract next time, bro. Live and learn.” —The Ethical Rot Behind ‘Before Watchmen’ & ‘The Avengers’ [Opinion] :: David Brothers :: ComicsAlliance (via ultralaser)
And a complete lack of faith” —Michael Gira
There’s an American school textbook from the early nineties based around CALVIN & HOBBES that costs, well, THOUSANDS of dollars for any collector bibliophile with the lack of perspective and priorities to part with that many beer vouchers for one book.
Actually beyond those single-to-late-teens thousand dollar price tags there’s one avaricious muppet on ebay (hrup-spit) trying to cash-in to the extent of $34k.
And I thought
was expensive… :oP
A shame the textbook can’t(?) be republished to undermine this appalling hubris. Books are to be read and learned from, not shut away in sealed metal or glass or concrete boxes behind men with guns.
The phone number for the phone box in Heddon St, London is (+44) (0)207 7348 719.
Far be it from me to suggest that you perhaps randomly phone it and ask anyone who answers for Ziggy…
This is the red-frame/white-light box posed in by David Bowie for the back cover of the 1972 album, The Rise And Fall Of Ziggy Stardust And The Spiders From Mars. It was replaced under the terrorist Thatcher with a blue monstrosity but street renovations in 1998 saw an old style red box being restored to the site.
The photoshoot for the album was by Brian Ward and The Retronaut has a photo-feature of that very event.
I wonder if anyone has ever been arch enough to cover Wire’s Map Ref 41°N 93°W under the name of “Centerville” instead?
weather strobing through piercing sunlight and glaring heat through the big, big front window
to slate grey horizon/horizon cloud with hail and thunder
i am out the back door so fast
standing rigid, arms up, head down
laughing big as the needle-hard rain stings my neck
and ricochets off my skull like so many lost teeth all around me
to vapourise as the squall passes
and the deepest blue-halo’d 93million-mile microwave
cooks the paving slabs below the chilled fence-top breeze
..digging out my TRAP DOOR dvd.
that which we wish would change, never does
that which we wish would remain the same, flows like hot wax before the firestorm