Archive for August, 2012


Ending in reverse

So, that was a fun two weeks off work. There was Supernormal, as described in the previous post. It really was super. The Bang the Bore crew held fast and made everything ace. And boozy.

Then there was a wedding in London. Not just any wedding, but the marriage of James (and now Michelle) Shaikh. Epic dances to Talking Heads led to bruised shins, amongst other things. And a hangover, obviously. (Big thanks to Matt and Faye Adams for putting up with me for so many days, too.)

Then I went to Whitby to stay in a Bram Stoker / Dracula themed room overlooking the Abbey and the sea. That was very nice. And Sandsend is a lovely place to wander to if you’re ever in the vicinity.

Then my brother was over, so we had a family get together, which was fun. And involved more booze.

Aside from such dalliances, I managed to record about 10 new sessions. Below is a limited tape which documents a minor portion of this. There will be more though, including a collaboration with Sheepscar Light Industrial‘s main man, Daniel Thomas. This will be a 50+ minute cdr which will be available from next weekend. It is also excellent, and took literally hours to bloom from seed to fruit.

Oh, and my twitter account was attacked by some wormy, tacky crap, so if you received any DMs from me containing a link, or anything like “wtf”, “omg” etc, just delete it. I didn’t send it. Apologies, and all that.


Halfway to the start of the ending

Now, if anybody can spot the anachronsims here, I’d be appreciative of notifications. For I have been down south, to a place with green pastures, to a place that nobody knows. The locum, I forget the name of which, saps the matter from your brain.

Inculcated with their ways,  I sat by the road side and ate some bread, for I had missed the opportunity to multiply my being.

After the sun coated me in a red-tenderness, and after resting me weary ways, I did open a bag, and I did pitch a tent (and I believe this tent was mine, although I cannot confirm this at present.) I was surrounded, immediately (as it happens) by a gang called the Waitrose Warriors. They crucified gin with some rather aromatic cigarettes. They sang two songs. On loop. But they continuously morphed everything by the virtue of something called ‘Ketamin,’ (which I took to be a noun of some sort:) “I wanna be your wonderwall / After all, I’m your dog” or words to that effect.

Managing to side step these warriors through the tunnel that I’d dug underneath my tent and into the woods, I joined a group of traveling folk who were face down in the dirt. One of them (his name was Seth, or Sef, I couldn’t quite tell) was scraping a bucket and fingering the air for sounds. The birds clapped their wings to his attitude, but I just joined the remainder of the gang, face down in the dirt.

I then found myself with a cassette machine, thrashing Bees out of every corner of a barn. It was fairly scary, so I refreshed my palette with some local delight that was served in a clear plastic unit that they called a ‘pint’. I blank out here, but the  document at the bottom of this post was positioned in my top pocket when I awoke in a car with a small person to my left. She called for my death, and I waited. I waited and waited. I wriggled into another seat. I slumped again. With some bread, and I drank my own sweat as I stumbled into the abyss.

I have some small cuts on my right hand, and this is all I know.


Upcoming lives

A few assorted live shows are occurring over the next few weeks including:

04/08 Site Gallery, Sheffield

11/08 Supernormal Festival (as Petals and as part of the the electro-acoustic junk purveyors Cooke, Henry & Sanders)

08-09/09, Bar Lane Studios, York

18/09 Chameleon, Nottingham