HIROSHIMA YEAH!
ISSUE 42
august 2008

“Directory enquiries, which name, please?” If YOU had to say THAT about 550 times a day and converse with MORONS who ask questions like “What’s the dialing code if I’m ringing a mobile phone in Newcastle?” then maybe you TOO would spend your leisure hours drinking yourself to kingdom FUCK in the sexiest pubs Glasgow has to offer and trying to retain some small sense of WORTH by writing a zine like THIS. Soooo, if you like music and booze, are of unsound mind and have the attention span of a minnow then HY! is the zine for YOU! Written by Mark Ritchie, Gary Simmons and Simon Morris, it is.

YOU MAY THINK
You may think that you are one of those people
whose world is golden,
whose farts smell of roses,
whose every casual utterance is witty and wise,
whose lifestyle is envied by millions,
whose children are the handsomest ever conceived,
whose smile is the brightest,
warming the world with its perfectly polished shine.
You may think that you are one of those people
but everyone else thinks you’re a CUNT.

THE FREAKS ARE OUT IN FORCE
The sunlight creeps in through the cracks,
illuminating dusty corners and cobwebbed ghosts.
It’s like a tomb in here,
with stale, dry air sucking the life out of all who enter.
We wait in line,
eager to spend our wages and dole money
on something that kisses before it kills.
Welcome to our world,
where all the freaks are out in force,
obeying the hissing commands of opening bottles,
rejoicing in the poetry of the everyday.
Welcome to our world,
baffled millions,
welcome to our big, beautiful,
piss-stinking world.

MAYBE YOU’LL SEE
Maybe you’ll see yourself
when the mirror cracks,
when the sirens roar.
Maybe you’ll see yourself
as a dying bull
sees a matador.
Maybe you’ll see yourself
as a restless heart
wrestling free from sin.
Maybe you’ll see yourself
as another dawn
comes crawling in.

THE LIST
Over a few drinks,
we got to talking about school days
and one of our teachers
who was accused of molesting teenage boys.
This didn't happen until years after we had left
but none of us were surprised about it at all.
He had a reputation, you see,
and there were always rumours flying around
about the things he got up to on school trips.
But, as far as we knew,
it didn't amount to anything more than arse-pinching
and silly horse-play.
Maybe people take these things much more seriously these days
but the guy's teaching career was ruined
and he ended up hanging himself because of it all.
Thing is, he was a pretty decent guy
who would come and see our bands play,
even after we had left school,
and if I had to make a list of all the teachers
upon whom I would wish a lonely, wretched death,
his name wouldn't be on it.

LEISURE TIME
I'm sitting in the park,
drinking cider,
watching them run around in circles
in their green, red and blue
coloured uniforms,
orders being barked at them
by a little man in combat trousers.
They do press-ups and squats,
like puppets being yanked
by invisible chains.
Why are they doing this, I wonder,
when everyone else
is enjoying their leisure time
with frisbees and bicycles and cider.
As the clock chimes 8,
I get up and leave them to it.

13.7 BILLION YEARS OF HELL
Selected Dispatches from an Unwilling Player of God’s Little Game
By Gary Simmons

Was woken at 7.30am by some nigger Mama ringing and BANGING on the front door. She wanted a glass of WATER! I said "Wait" then shut the window and did NOTHING. She spoke to (hot) schoolgals then Alan across the road gave her water!
*
Wonder where my glow-in-the-dark Yuri Gagarin T-shirt is? I got it YEARS ago from some guy who was importing space-related stuff from Russia. Is it radioactive? I am. I'm HOT!! "They" are going on about the froggy president, SARKASTIC! Yeah, and his ex-porn "star" SLUT wife and her D.P. "artistic" photograph. Who fuckin' CARES?? What time do we land? Fuck, at least tell me THAT, Mr. Rolling News!!
*
On goes the free-coz-I-flyered-for-Justin "Skitliv" CD that I, er, got from Justin, as it happens. Very silly vocals on this first track. God! Oh, this 3rd track is good. That's coz David Tibet is singing! INIMITABLE!! But the silly vocal is the RULE, it seems. It spoils the music and is like side two of "Tubular Bells", only without any humour… at ALL!! Thank fuck this CD is finished! No WONDER Justin gave it away!
*
I REALLY can't believe Matthew Wright said "It's almost impossible to drink 2 litres of cider"!!!! And I thought I was a fuckin' southern LIGHTWEIGHT!!! What WORLD do these fuck-heads live in?? Fantasy fuckin' island?!?! It's fuckin' INSANE! And THEY'RE passing their televised opinions to all and sundry across the cuntry!! I hate THEM as much as I hate the Camden "punks"! UNBELIEVABLE IGNORANCE!!
*
Got interviewed by a hot chick from Capital Radio in George Lane about the petrol strike. Said I'm not bothered as we'll all be fossilised in 55 million years and it's not that important in the scheme of things.

GEROFANNY’S “WHERE YOU’VE COME FROM’S GONE, WHERE YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE GOIN’ TO WERN’T NEVER THERE AND WHERE YOU ARE AIN’T NO GOOD UNLESS YOU CAN GET AWAY FROM IT…” (© MINISTRY) PLAYLIST
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 3, 9TH MARCH 1982, GOSSIPS, LONDON, UK (No audio recording of this performance is available. Whitehouse were forced to abandon the show after about 15 minutes due to irate punks who turned up for the original headliners Peter and the Test Tube Babies (I never met a woman Peter and the Test Tube Babies fan… who didn’t deserve to DIE!) only to discover that Beat-her and co couldn’t make it, so Whitehouse were left to headline! Can you imagine?! HA!! Filmed on Super 8 by Paul Hurst. John Murphy replaces Steve Stapleton)
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 4, 1st MAY 1982, CENTRO IBERICO, LONDON, UK. Cassette (Superb non-linear improvisational performance originally booked for the Musicians Collective but banned shortly before the date due to complaints from members. LA 4 was released in its entirety on Whitehouse’s 7th album, Psychopathia Sexualis… if you have the belly for it. Susan Lawly)
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 5, 12th JULY 1982, CENTRO IBERICO, LONDON, UK (I turned-up for this show on Saturday 5th JUNE 1982, the original date, but Whitehouse didn’t show. That day was “absolutely baking” according to my diary. The journey wasn’t at all wasted though, for I bought an issue of Come Org’s Kata zine AND a copy of the IN-FUCKIN’-CREDIBLE Für Ilse Koch LP. Probably paid about £4 for THAT “plastic bullet”! Wish I’d also bought, at the time (via Come Org mail order): an Ian Brady badge, a Peter Kurten badge, an Ilse Koch badge, a Charles Manson badge, a “Rapemaster” T-shirt (I DID get a “New Sadist” one… still have it), a Come Organisation brass name plate and some Come Organisation matches. Well, at least I still managed to keep my ticket, number 0003. Wanna sleep with me? This gig was cancelled on the 12th July TOO, so, for LA 5, read “scrapped”)
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 6, 19th JULY 1982, CENTRO IBERICO, LONDON, UK. Cassette (Blood churning non-linear improvisational performance… WITH MERCY! Just. Susan Lawly)
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 7, 6th NOVEMBER 1982, GREYHOUND, LONDON, UK
(Whitehouse were invited to play on this bill by Annie Anxiety. The audience were also the headline group, according to my (hard) copy of the Whitehouse Live Action Dossier, them being Flux of Pink Indians. This show lasted less than 10 minutes. No audio recording available. Don’t you just LOVE all this?!)
WHITEHOUSE – LIVE ACTION 8, 25th MARCH 1983, PYRAMID CLUB, NEW YORK, USA
(First State-side show, first line-up of Bear-net, Kevin Tompkins and Peter Sotos. Hair-net touches-up female members of the audience during the song “Anal American”. Dunno WHY you can’t buy a recording of this. Well, CAN you??)
AMY WINEHOUSE – FRANK (SPECIAL EDITION). CD (Bloody GREAT stuff! My fave track is the jungle-chuggy “Amy Amy Amy”. Can THIS sow write songs or WHAT? YES! Yes she fucking CAN! She also attends my local Crown Court on a regular basis. Island. 2003)
ELLA FITZGERALD/JOE PASS – TAKE LOVE EASY. LP (The perfect rest-of-the-tape accompaniment to the above Amy CD… as Linda found out from Chuck Traynor! Er, I mean as MARKY found out from GEROGARY! Not read Mark’s Amy review yet, but I feel thee outlook is bleak. Pablo Records. 1974)
FES PARKER – SIDE ROOM. CD (Fuckin’ AWESOME compilation CD featuring songs from all of Fes’s previous 5 albums. TA Simon! Fes Parker is absolutely BRILLIANT! Check this guy out, for FUCKS sake!! Pressupable Recordings. 2008)
COLT – YOU HOLD ON TO WHAT’S NOT REAL. CD (Intriguing Cocteau-Twins-esque-cum-Nichole-Kidman-in-Eyes-Wide-Shut-drawn-out-girly-vocals with Tibet/Stapleton Musicalische Kürbs Hütte trimmings, make for as easy-a-listen as Ella and Joe up there. Classy packaging too. TA William! If THIS doesn’t grow on you, you must be a sterile toxic gamma-rayed bloody BASTARD! Fuck off!! Obvious Records. 2008)

MUSIC
EELS- SOULJACKER (DREAMWORKS)
It makes SUCH a nice change to see a CD that I want - and a DOUBLE one at THAT - going cheap (this one was £3 in Fopp). What usually happens is, I’ll buy something at full price then see it for about 99p a week or two later. So it came to pass that, on a weekend of dreary TV coverage from the Glastonbury festival (where ALL the good acts were old timers. Neil Diamond, Leonard Cohen, Seasick Steve… how could talent-free whippersnappers like the fucking Wombats even HOPE to compete? And don’t get me STARTED on Duffy… FAR from being “the new Dusty Springfield” as everyone claims (JUST ‘cos her name sounds a BIT like Dusty, I think), she’s more like the new Dusty Bin), I consoled myself with the delights of this 2001 Eels release. How I LAUGHED at the sleeve-notes (surely penned by head-Eel guy E, but credited to DJ Killingspree), entitled “Do You Like Rock Music?” How I GASPED at the pics of E all dressed-up for the terrorist/GG Allin lookalike party in big beard, shades and hooded top (WELL edgy considering this LP came out just after 9/11). How I MARVELLED at the tales of “Dog Faced Boy”, “Woman Driving, Man Sleeping” and “Bus Stop Boxer”, SWOONED at the delirious, warm-hearted joys of “Fresh Feeling”, “World of Shit” and “I Write the B-Sides”. A ZILLION times better than a weekend of limp, oomph-free Fratellis/Kings of Leon/Zutons choruses.

EMILY PICHA – WESTERLY (SELF-RELEASED) www.emilypicha.net
It’s been a long, long time since I’ve fallen so completely in love with a songwriter that seemed to appear from out of nowhere. No glowing magazine articles or reviews prepared me for the Kenyata Sullivan cassette that landed through my 1993 letterbox, just like nothing prepared me for the Conor Oberst cassette that Kenyata himself taped me a year or two later. Similarly, I couldn’t have expected to be so TOTALLY blown away by this 2007 Emily Picha CD, which is nothing short of REMARKABLE. Her wordy, beautiful songs about living and loving are like travelogues through various geographical states as well as states of mind. A windswept romance SHINES out of all 10 of these songs, as Emily sings of rivers, “Little Fires” and the irresistible lure of the open road.

NEON RAIN – DIRTIER THAN THE DIRT (STEELWORK MASCHINE)
This CD from froggy-land, where tracks with titles like “Obliterate, Exterminate, Exhumate” mingle casually with ones called “Unleash the Plague”, starts off all new agey and peaceful, a calm, de-frocked clergyman gnoshing on a choirboy’s cock, before mutating into a messy Depeche Mode duelling with the dark side. There are occasional moments of arresting ambience and some lyrics but THEY are in French so who CARES about THEM? All the songs are too long (even the short ones) and the mind soon begins to wander to other crucial matters, such as hoovering, cider and the slow, steady decay of friendship. The album is “dedicated to the victims of Hiroshima and Nagasaki”, which is a nice gesture but do you think they’d REALLY give a fuck?

ROBIN O’BRIEN AND DON CAMPAU – THE WAY YOU FALL
DON CAMPAU – SILO / PESTS
ANDREW MAURER – THERE IS A WINDOW (LONELY WHISTLE) www.doncampau.com
Here we have a whole HOST of delightful treats from those Lonely Whistlers of California and, first up, is Robin O’Brien (whose “Eye and Storm” disc I praised last issue). On this release, Robin is accompanied by hubby/underground music legend Don Campau and, on the evidence of opener “I Am Changing”, we have to wonder if he’s slipped something into her tea because, with its semi-orgasmic/screamy vocals and low down ‘n’ dirty guitars, it’s not unlike Diamanda Galas having an orgy with the Stooges. We’re on more familiar territory with the minimal, pastoral tastiness of “Cherry” but Robin reintroduces the vocal hysterics on “61306” and all the OTHER songs, too, especially on the totally BONKERS title track and “Open the Door”, which both sound like someone speaking in tongues and having a full-blown nervous breakdown in a recording studio. What’s Robin SAYING? What’s she TRYING to say? Is this an experimental one-off or a new direction? I’m really not sure WHAT I make of this, to be honest. Her version of “Our Father” is STILL better than Cliff Richard’s, though… Don Campau’s “Silo” promises “solo acoustic guitar improvisations” and that’s EXACTLY what it delivers! 11 of them! As you can imagine from a CD “dedicated to the spirit and memory of Derek Bailey and John Fahey”, these pieces sound folky and bluesy and charming. On “Pests”, he’s in more of an “alternative” (whatever THAT means nowadays) pop/rock kinda mood and is joined by various other home-tapers to craft a diverse and genre-hopping 9-tracker of chunky delight. Particularly fine moments (and, therefore, ones to download, if you’re that way inclined... and is it even POSSIBLE to download a moment ANYWAY?) are “Ride the Night”, the squally-guitared title track and the calming synths of “The Best I Can Do”. Also scoring high in the enjoyability stakes is Andrew Maurer’s “There is a Window”, with its slight Nick Drake-isms and pleasing bongos/violin/cello action. Robin O’Brien produces and contributes backing vocals on several tracks too. And the songs? Well, they all have a rather lovely affairs-of-the-heart kinda vibe and Andrew’s voice is fragile and tender and reminds me of someone I can’t quite put my finger on, which keeps me coming back for more and more of this perfectly-formed release. 

ICONS OF FILTH – THE MORTARHATE PROJECTS (MORTARHATE)
The heart sinks when you see the crappy, amateurish cover with its Anarchy/CND sign/NASTY copper’s baton and you brace yourself for the most clichéd, generic, brainless pub punk ever. BUT… isn’t that name familiar? Weren’t Icons of Filth one of the more interesting sounding bands in the anarcho-punk book “The Day the Country Died” (reviewed in issue 33 of this VERY rag)? YES! Yes they fucking WERE! There’s some genuinely stirring stuff here, from spiky anthems like “They’ve Taken Everything” and “Fucked Up State” to intense power ballads where gospel choirs sing their hearts out against backdrops of angelic MOR strings. Nah, I was JOKING about that last bit. You know EXACTLY what you’re going to get with this sort of stuff and, while it doesn’t SURPRISE, it doesn’t DISAPPOINT either. That cover’s STILL shit, though.

BEN FOLDS – SONGS FOR SILVERMAN (EPIC)
Like a swearier version of Randy Newman, Mr. Folds delivers pure, joyous piano pop thrills on this 2005 album which contains lyrical gems like “Pretty soon, you’ll be an old bastard too” and “Kids today are getting old too fast/They can’t wait to grow up so they can kiss some ass” and THAT’S just on the FIRST SONG! The melancholic charms of “Landed” and “Give Judy My Notice” (featuring the pedal steel of Bucky Baxter) will leave you panting while the BEAUTIFUL Elliott Smith tribute “Late” and sweet “Gracie” will have even the hardest bastard reaching for the Kleenex (writing songs about your kids really SHOULDN’T be allowed unless it’s done as brilliantly as THIS).

THE HOLD STEADY – STAY POSITIVE (ROUGH TRADE)
Being rewarded with £200 worth of gift vouchers JUST for staying in a job for three months sounds too good to be true, right? Well, that’s EXACTLY what happened to me recently and this CD was my first purchase (well, after a pair of sensible Hush Puppies… SO comfy, don’t you know. You can shove your Converse All Stars up your ARSE!) and, ooh, it’s THRILLINGLY great, packed to bursting point with pace-quickening tunes with BIG guitars and astonishing short-story-like lyrics which reference not only Iggy Pop but also genius film-maker John Cassavetes (and, specifically, his weird/wonderful “Opening Night”. Gena Rowlands must be the proudest actress ALIVE, having songs written about her by both Mark Eitzel AND Craig Finn, even if Finny baby DOES mispronounce her name here). “Constructive Summer”, “Sequestered in Memphis”, “Magazines” and the title track are all shaping up to be THE songs of the summer for me, while “One for the Cutters”, “Lord, I’m Discouraged” and “Both Crosses” are dark, brilliant mini-epics. The three extra songs tacked onto the end (bizarrely, as one single track) are glorious too AND Patterson Hood (from Drive-By Truckers) and J. Mascis make guest appearances, proving that the Hold Steady are a band who just like to give and give.

KRAFTWERK – RADIO-ACTIVITY (CAPITOL)
Never was much of a fan of this lot’s cold, clinical Euro-electro but this is actually a pretty good LP and you can TOTALLY hear the influence they’ve had on modern (ish) acts like Stereolab, etc. A bit of a pleasant surprise, then. Thanks, Simon!

NEIL DIAMOND – HOME BEFORE DARK (COLUMBIA)
As mentioned previously, Neil’s set at Glastonbury was one of the few highlights screened by good old Auntie Beeb and, when the title track of THIS album was played, it was just STUNNING. Here it’s joined by OTHER brand new classics like “If I Don’t See You Again”, “Pretty Amazing Grace” and a GREAT duet with Natalie Maines called “Another Day (That Time Forgot)”. Some people DESERVE their “legendary” status.

WILD BEASTS – LIMBO, PANTO (DOMINO)
When I heard this new Lake District band being compared to “early Smiths”, I was naturally intrigued (“Hatful of Hollow” being one of my very fave albums of all time). Well, obviously there’s no way they can live up to THAT, though the singer DOES have that falsetto thing going on. But does he HAVE to use it nearly ALL THE FUCKING TIME? It takes a bit of getting used to and the most repeatable, stand-out track, “His Grinning Skull”, is the song where he utilizes his puberty-defying gift more sparingly. There are actually some spine-tingling moments here, some of which sound like a cross between Sparks and the Woodentops/very early James (as opposed to early Smiths). Also, any band who can write a line like “Take these chips with cheese as an offering of peace” demand the nation’s rapt attention.

FOR HARLOW’S MONKEYS - #3 (MISSPAWN)
Here’s the latest release from an ultra-odd side project of Ceramic Hobbler and internationally acclaimed HY! contributor Simon Morris. “Recorded at dawn in Teal Wood” again, this is six short tracks of weird shit. Not noise exactly, but not ambient either. “The Bone Thick Clatter Between Two Worlds” is the first track and that title saves me having to describe it, as that’s JUST what it sounds like. “When the Spirit of Play Dies There is Only Murder” is the eerie moans of tortured spirits trapped in an echo chamber, while “Blood Like That Never Won an Inch of Star” sounds vaguely like people playing musical instruments on the bottom of the ocean. The final three tracks are more of the same, really. Someone you don't know is going to somewhere you've never been. What can it all mean?

BILL FAY – TIME OF THE LAST PERSECUTION (ESOTERIC)
This is the 1971 follow-up to the reviewed-in-issue-36-of-this-zine’s imaginatively-monikered “Bill Fay” debut and if the cover pic of Bill looking like a meths-guzzling tramp doesn’t alert you to the eccentricity of the CD’s content then song titles like “Don’t Let My Marigolds Die” and “Let All the Other Teddies Know” most certainly WILL. If you’re looking for easy-on-the-ear English folk-pop with a twist (the twist being lyrics like “Satan’s in the garden shed, he’d like to screw you all” and “Be ready… for when the cupboard explodes”) then you could do a lot worse than seek this album out ‘cos it’s really rather lovely.

GIGS
MY BLOODY VALENTINE/THE PASTELS – BARROWLAND, GLASGOW, 2ND JULY 2008
Sat next to Lola and across from Alan and Chris so it felt like the OLD DAYS. We looked up celebrity names. An “A. Winehouse, Camden Town” is listed, as is Alan Bennett in the same location – but the Data Protection Act prevents me from revealing more! Some guy who rang up was going on to me about his Viking heritage and someone else said that his dentists had just been firebombed! Lunchtime, I spent down by the river, then I got Magic Mark up in the lift. Luckily, he didn’t have time to show me a card trick. Phew! Got a voicemail from Andrew. We had a bit of musical chairs going on due to technical SHIT and I got Business Excellence Andy DOWN in the lift on my last break… the first time I’ve ever spoken to him properly. Walked and talked with Lauren after work and we were RIGHT behind Drunken Eyes! He went to the ‘Shoe, of course, as did I. Had a few with James and his soon-to-be-80 mate Andy. We watched the THRILLING tennis on TV. Met Grant in Mono at 7pm. We looked at some discs then had a drink in the Gate before going to the Barras, where they were handing out free earplugs! We watched the Pastels, whose gentle whimsy charmed us into submission. Norman and Gerry from Teenage Fanclub were in the line-up and they had some trumpets and shit, too. I had a few £2.20 cans of Miller from the special Miller bar. My Bloody Valentine were MIGHTY FINE with their strobes and back projections and renderings of “Loveless” and “Isn’t Anything” tracks and they had a 20-minute noise section during closer ‘You Made Me Realise” which was like being on E without ACTUALLY being on it, warmth spreading from the toes upwards, great big beautiful blissful noise. I was rocking back and forth, taking it all in, trance-like. It was ear-shattering (but I still didn’t put any earplugs in) and people were holding their ears and walking out. PUSSIES! Bootleg T-shirts were being sold outside the venue (not often you see THAT anymore. At least, not at the gigs I go to) and we saw Duglas BMX Bandit hanging about. Walked back to the St Enoch subway where I said goodnight to Grant and got my train. Some guy was wearing a Hüsker Dü T-shirt! Was back at 11.35pm.

DANIEL JOHNSTON AND FRIENDS - OLD FRUITMARKET, GLASGOW, 23RD JULY 2008
Got up at 6am, got a bus into town (a free ride, ‘cos I’ve still got lots of bus tokens to use). Had a laugh with Natalie, Lola and Lauren. SOME lucky fucker, somewhere in the UK, has been BLESSED with the surname Pornbandit and there’s a Mr. Wanker too, who’s ex-directory, strangely enough! Had my usual cheese salad roll from Crumbs on my first break. Still felt weird having my lunch-break at 10.30am, but that’s what happens when you start work at 7, I suppose. Went through my stats with Lee. They’re impressive, apparently. Samuel rang. After work, I had a look in Missing then went to the Crystal Palace for a veggie burger and pint of lager. Read the Metro. Then I went and hung around with all the Horseshoe HUNKS. James was in, so I sat with him and had a couple of pints of Carling, though I couldn’t finish my second one. I was more in the mood for cider. Drunken Eyes was in too, as was Business Excellence Andy, who I said hello to. Left just before 6pm and made my way, in the sun, to Mono to meet Grant. I bought a promo CD from Stephen Pastel and we had a drink, sitting outside in the courtyard. I had cider, Grant had ginger beer. I gave him a tape, he gave me a CD-R. Rang Samuel, as he was going to come and meet us but had left it too late. We went to the Old Fruitmarket, where I’d not been in (I think) 10 years. Were a bit confused as to why NOBODY else was there, as we sat in the empty bar. I bought a Magners for £3.95(!!) and eavesdropped on part of the soundcheck when I went to the toilet. We made our way onto the balcony and spied a merch stall downstairs, so went to investigate. Duglas BMX Bandit was talking to one of Daniel’s “people” about giving him some singles or something. He’d been in Mono earlier, too. They were selling “Hi, How Are You” T-shirts but we’ve already GOT one of THOSE (one each!) so we didn’t buy anything (although I found the green Jad Fair T quite attractive). Back up on the balcony, I treated myself to several more too-expensive ciders and Grant put on his brand new specs. We were trying to spot the “celebs” in the audience but could only see Duglas, Stephen Pastel and Gerry Love from Teenage Fanclub (in a rather fetching red jacket). First onstage was an unrecognisable-at-first Jad Fair (who, with his teensy guitar and long hair, looked like Tiny Tim! He was spectacle-less, too). He played with Norman Blake (Teenage Fanclub), James McNew (Yo La Tengo) and a female drummer and treated us to a GREAT, short set which included the classic “I’ll Change My Style”. Next up was Scout Niblett, who played with a (male, this time) drummer and did the title-track to her recent album as well as a couple of other songs (including the great “We’re All Gonna Die”). Then it was the turn of Norman Blake to brighten our hearts with some solo acoustic fabbiness. He was joined at the end by McNew on “Everything Flows” (!!) and a Bevis Frond song called “He’d Be A Diamond”. Grant described his set as “casual genius” and I had to agree. Then Mark “Sparklehorse” Linkous came on and did a few songs, joined by Norman for a couple, and joined by DANIEL JOHNSTON HIMSELF on “The Most Beautiful Widow in Town”. The crowd went MAD! Then Daniel came back on himself and did some solo songs on ANOTHER tiny guitar, before announcing that the band would be on, after a short break. I got myself one more cider and then the, already-fucking-amazing, night became even BETTER when Daniel was joined by all the other artists (minus the female drummer... dunno what happened to HER) in performing a set containing SO many WONDERFUL songs, that I was almost struck dumb… “Speeding Motorcycle”, “Go”, “Love Enchanted”, “Fish”, “Casper the Friendly Ghost”, “Rock This Town”, “Portrait of an Artist”, “Rock’n’Roll/EGA”… UNBELIEVABLE! The encore was Daniel and Linkous doing “True Love Will Find You in the End” and then a solo/singalong “Devil Town” and that was IT. Truly, one of the best gigs I have EVER seen. We hung around outside for a while, hoping to catch a glimpse of our hero, but he didn’t appear, so we walked towards the station and Grant went for his train and I got a subway back. Was in around 10.50-ish.

VIDEO
ENDLESS LOVE: PETE SHAUGHNESSY – THE VIDEO (MAD PRIDE)
I’m WAY cynical, so I was all set to HATE this “tribute to Pete Shaughnessy, co-founder of Mad Pride” but, instead, I found myself close-to-blubbing at this moving doc about one man’s battle with mental illness, especially as he comes across as a really lovely, sweet-natured guy. But Pete is no longer with us, for he took his own life, yet TOTAL CUNTS like Brown, Bush and Salmond (Scotland’s glorious leader, who’s doing a GREAT job of TOTALLY FUCKING UP the country… don’t be fooled – EVERYONE involved in “politricks” (© Icons of Filth) is a cunt) STILL walk the smug earth. Also, the clips of various bands (including Ceramic Hobs and Apeshit) performing at a Mad Pride fest made me wish that I too could join the “mad” party (well, I HAVE been on Prozac several times AND tried to top myself and shit. Do I qualify?) Mad Pride seems like a great organisation and I’d like to suggest a new slogan for them – “Making Madness Sexy”. USE it, ABUSE it, just send me some badges, okay?

NO SAGE WORDS OR TEA FOR ALICE –
Ceramic Hobs tour diary, March 2008 (by Ceramic Simon… continued from last issue)

Leeds Common Place
A right-on anarchist centre where I’ve played before in Smell + Quim. The PA is about three hours late. Nigel Joseph (Heffalump Trap guitarist and occasional Hob) is having his 99th nervous breakdown and refusing to do the show. Two hilariously posh barmaids (who are actually doing their art dissertations on squatted art spaces, actually) get us to do postcards for them to pass the time. In contrast, there’s a table of rock hard butch lesbians just here cos it is their local – when I’m putting stage gear on one of ‘em says “Eh, d’you need any help putting your bra on? First time I’ve ever said THAT – ha haha ha!” Enthusiastic response from truly deranged crowd, nicely shambolic performance from us with smoke machine and strobe light damage to the max.

Bacup Football Club
Bacup is probably best known now as the town where some poor Goth lass got kicked to death by chavs in the park. Bacup also has the most thriving, surreal and genuine music scene in the north of England. You don’t know what styles of music you’re gonna get at Bacup FC Social Club but you do know that some of it will be great, some will be totally bizarre, and there’ll be an audience there who will be lively and dance. Mrs Cakehead who play with us tonight do East Lancs-specific rap/reggae/dub. They seem to be in a perverted mood tonight and keep yelling “I’m coming in yer face, coming in yer mouth!” I love this band dearly, they are easily as eccentric as the Hobs. Lots of folk dancing. Joe Bidoche does a great set and gets chatted up by middle-aged hippy chicks afterwards. Our show was OK, I improvised a rap section… we even get paid some money. Bury my heart at Bacup FC Social Club!

Manchester Klondyke Bowls Club
Last of a four-nights-on-the-run stint stint and oh, I’m starting to feel tired now. Another eerie too-large room in a weirdly located WMC with cheap bar. Duo of Stuart (Smear Campaign) and Gary (Bess Geloid) doing improvised bass/trumpet/screaming free jazz silliness also on bill, most entertaining. Lots of friendly familiar faces there, in fact we personally know just about everyone who turns up. Night gets better as people get more drunk, predictably. Hobs play a blinder I reckon, succinct and varied set. Fall asleep seeing white lines of the road!

Blackpool Riffs
Final gig and, as we’re sharing bill with lots of young metallers, we were gonna do a techno set to annoy them, but didn’t get it sorted in time. We’re the last of seven bands, some of whom (Red XIII, Ravenface) are seriously underage, in some cases closer to twelve than eighteen… venue owner is not looking happy at times, especially not when a lass with them pukes cider and alcopops all over herself before the bands have even started! Punk Rock!! So it is hour after hour of mostly harsh metal, some generic and some of it breathtaking (Blackpool’s technical grindcore specialists When People Become Numbers). Artist fella we know called Dr Steg is doing action pictures again tonight (as he did at the Raikes) but over the very long evening gets really wasted and destroys all his paintings violently as he’s doing them… Hobs do a fairly full-on set with me at the furthest reaches of drunkenness, some 14 year old minds get blown. Nice end to the tour anyway. Hell yes, I’d do this sort of thing again!

NAGASAKI POO STORY by Gary Simmons
I spent August and September 1994 in Japan. My Japanese girlfriend had an exhibition of her photographs in a Tokyo gallery during August. When the exhibition was over, we took the opportunity to travel around Japan. On September 10th we arrived in Nagasaki. All I could think of was: Nagasaki… atomic bomb… this is where “it” happened. I was also badly in need of a poop and, as we walked out of Nagasaki train station, we saw a public toilet. In I go. This was a Japanese traditional type loo. Up until now I had only ever seen and used “Western” style toilets in Japan and not a single Japanese one, even though I had heard about them from a little “Guide to Japan” booklet I’d read whilst still in London. So, here in front of me was the mythical Japanese loo. It’s shaped similar to a bidet, which we have at home, only it’s sunk into the floor with the “controls” low down on the wall. I’d forgotten what I had read in the guide to Japan and wasn’t sure which way I should squat, facing the wall/controls or with my back to them. I guess I’m sooo used to sitting on a toilet facing away from the wall and flusher that this is what made me do the same here. It was very strange to be squatting down like that and then to see my poo just laying there, high and dry. There’s no water in these ones. I don’t like to see my poo exposed in this way. I wiped, then had to turn around to operate the flush. It was then that I realised I’d been sitting, or rather squatting, the wrong way around after all. I watched my poo disappear (in Nagasaki, no less!) down the hole. I was still amazed that I was really in Nagasaki (I’d not travelled before, you see). When I told my waiting girlfriend that I’d used the toilet the wrong way around, we both had a little laugh, ha ha ha, and then started our exploration of this famous city. For a long time afterward, whenever I thought of Nagasaki, I’d think “the first thing I did on arriving in Nagasaki was take a poo”. But, as time passed, I don’t think of that part so much, just the atomic bombing as before. A year later, my girlfriend and I married but now we’re divorced. I’d like to go back to Japan one day and to that Nagasaki toilet so as to put the record straight and poo the right way around but, with no Japanese girlfriend waiting for me outside, it just wouldn’t be the same.

BRUCE
Bruce was a strange kid. He appeared in our class, as if from nowhere, right in the middle of term and had soon found his way into our gang. Not that it was much of a gang. All we really did was ride about on our bikes, climb trees and throw stones at each other.
Bruce told us his dad was in the army and that they moved around a lot. He was into a band called the Sex Pistols, who none of us had heard of before (we liked the Who and Adam and the Ants). He would write their name on his pencil case and tell us the words to their songs, some of which were rude and made us giggle.
One evening during the summer holidays, after we had exhausted ourselves playing a particularly invigorating game of Chap Door Run (the idea of which was to knock, or “chap”, on someone’s front door and then run away), we were all hanging around in the local swing park, doing nothing in particular.
“I killed somebody once,” Bruce said.
He wasn’t looking at any of us, just lying on his back, staring up at the darkening sky. A couple of my friends laughed and carried on with whatever they were doing, but me and Stuart both went over to where Bruce was and lay down on the grass beside him.
“When was this?” I asked.
“When we were living in Germany.”
“Don’t believe you,” Stuart said, although the look on his face suggested otherwise.
“Believe it or don’t,” Bruce said. “I still did it.”
We fell silent for a while. Our other two friends ran off into a field, leaving the three of us lying there, watching a plane making fragmented white patterns in the sky.
“What was it like?” Stuart asked.
“Eh?”
“What did it feel like? Killing somebody?”
“Thought you said you never believed me?”
“Well, maybe I do…”
He thought for a while, then Bruce told us.
“Well, it’s like when you’re playing about with a beetle or something. You know, pulling its legs off and that. It’s a bit like that. Or it’s like chucking a stone at a dog. Doesn’t feel like anything much. Just something to do. I wanted to do it, so I did. To see what it was like…”
“Who was it?” I asked. “Who was it you killed?”
“There was this family of gypsies that lived near the army camp. They were always sneaking in and nicking stuff. Clothes off the washing-line, food. My dad said they’d nick the fillings out of your teeth if you weren’t careful. So, one night, they had this big party. They were all drinking and dancing and they had a band playing, a really big band. It was mental. My dad told me not to go but he’d gone out to the pictures with this woman he knew. His girlfriend. She’s not his girlfriend anymore, though. Anyway, I thought I’d go and have a look and I saw this wee boy standing next to a big pile of fireworks. They were going to let them off later on, to end the party, I think. So, I thought, I’ll have some of these. I like fireworks and they’d probably nicked them anyway, so I asked the wee boy if they were his and he just shook his head, no… So, I made him help me carry a few of them back to the camp and we hid them in a bush. Then I realised he’d tell on me, so I thought I’d better shut him up.”
“Come on!” Stuart snorted. “You’re trying to tell us you KILLED a kid just for THAT?”
“Not JUST ‘cos of that. Like I said, it was more to see what it felt like…”
“So, how did you do it, then?” I asked.
“Well, first I asked him if he wanted some lemonade, then I told him to follow me back to my house, but I never TOOK him to my house, I took him to this bit in the woods where I used to play sometimes. Nobody ever went there, so I thought it’d be a good place to do it. There was an old mine shaft there. It was dead deep. I used to chuck stones down it and it’d be ages before you heard them hit the bottom.”
“So, you threw the kid down it?” Stuart inquired.
“Aye, I did, after a bit. I messed about with him for a while before I did it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cut him and that. I used to have this hunting knife. It had an ivory handle. But my dad took it off me.”
I looked over at the field our friends had disappeared into but could see no sign of them, only tall forests of grass swaying in the breeze. It was growing dark very rapidly now.
“I should be getting home,” I said, standing up, but Stuart and Bruce didn’t offer anything in reply.
“See you tomorrow,” I told them. They nodded their acknowledgment and I walked home alone.
Bruce didn’t return to school after the summer. He said his dad was taking him away on holiday and they never came back. Me and Stuart would sometimes talk about him and wonder where he was living but we never mentioned it again, the story he had told us that night. I didn’t ever really, truly believe it had happened but you never know, do you? Like I said, Bruce was a strange kid.