malcom x

i walked over to MX with Team Brick. He told me about his new instrument- a metal CD rack that he has bent all about to get it into tune. He’s going to play tomorrow at MX at 7pm. as we walked along Brick embraced various people we came across. he seemed to know all of them. one of them, Ben, looked like he had come through the time tunnel to this century. i mentioned this to Team and he said that their friends thought he’d come from the ’90s; Team likes that decade.

when i arrived the Aliens were on. i don’t enjoy bass being so bassey that it makes the page i’m writing on vibrate. to me it is an invasion of personal space. i could’ve left but then i would have had to move and besides a fraction of me (probably the piece that was resonating most violently) was curious to see whether the bass could make me throw up.

as i stood with my notebook in hand pondering such questions the man who i had stood next to struck up a converation, asking what i was writing. i’m afraid i gave him the wrong impression and for a while he thought i was a member of the Venn team, one of the big players, a mover and shaker. he writes for lots of music magazines i’ve not heard of ( god, most of the bands are new to me) . but i relaly liked talking to this guy, John Fletcher and his friend/photographer Stuart Green. Both were very friendly and even offered me a drink when they went to the bar. i thought that beautiful behaviour. they are from manchester and when i realised this i was reminded of something two friends of mine had said when i visited them in Liverpool last week. ‘Mancurians are a melancholy breed. they are poetic and tragic.’ for some reason this correlates with gentleness in my mind. and these two men had a gentleness about them.

having said that John seemed to be balancing on a cheesewire of tense excitement that might raise him to epiphanic ectasies or drive him to rampages born of horror and disappointment. he spoke of Ariel Pink and Kode 9 with an enthusiasm that electrified his body. i think this must contribute to his wiry suppleness.

stuart is a bear-tall man. i think he would be good at protecting cubs and catching fish from wild running rivers while remaining a very approachable bear. when we parted company he said of John, ‘i’d drag him away if he hadn’t run off.’

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at St. George’s, Bristol

I walked over from the cube to st. george’s and spent the first few steps with a man called Tim who is in a band whose picture is in the program. he was a friendly chap who was a bit tired having jusy flown in from Rome and a gig. anyway. i ended up at st. g’s and had a chat with steve, who was my manager when i worked there. (lyric- “don’t like mondays”). i sat in the crypt bar at a table holding two empty bottles of beer i hadn’t emptied. In St g’s crypt you can hear the show in the hall upstairs through speakers dotted about. i think it was Crescent who was playing when iwas there; they were probably about 10 feet to the left above the table where i as sitting. the music from the speakers was sailing upon the choppy waters of chatter that filled the little bar. every so often a significant roar of applause silenced both. the sound of this applause was similar to that a wave makes when being pulled back from a pebbly beach: lots of small things knocking against one another at the same time. Very Venn.

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song lyrics

i’ve started to ask people to tell me a song lyric. strangers mostly. so far i have had a phil collins, joni mitchell, coupla hip hops and one i couldn’t make out the second time it was repeated to me and i felt it was too discourteous to ask a third time. Zahid, one of the techs and a friend from work, asked me the same question. it’s pretty hard. i came up with “ol lady you mashin’ me toe”, a line from a caribbean number i played on my show earlier today.

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malcom x centre around 6.30 pm

the place was full of men in shorts and t shirts. many had things clipped to their belts. not much chat but quite a bit of lifting. they were man-ants, lifting equipment at least three times their own weight, all working towards a purpose they didnt need to verbalise. i thnk this is due to them all having a role, knowing their place in the scheme, knowing the value of their work and having a unified aim.

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write then

if you see any chalking on the roads and pavements and walls around stokes croft, then more than likely it’ll be ol’ Godfrey here. i’m listening then chalking- lyrics, conversations, venn or un-venn alike. don’t get upset the chalk won’t last. my first chalk was outside the lovely Cafe Kino. lady and i were sitting together having a chat and i wrote down a coupla things she said. the great thing about lucy is that she is completely unphased by me writing as she’s talking. i wondered whether she realised i was actually writing. sometimes lady is talkng about things in the present but her mind is far, far away, you can tell how far by following her eyes, the further they wander the further she is away. if she turns her head as well then she’s nearly gone for good. anyway, amy feneck came in and i decided to chalk while her and lady had a chat about the documenatry filming they are doing along with Mr. Hopkinson. as i chalke di heard a kurfuffle and then amy was by me with her camera. a man aske dme what iwa s doing. he was very polite. i told him and old him about venn cos it seemed like he hadn’t heard of it. i got him a programme and shook his hand. his name is Nick and he lives in the flats nearby. the thing is although i was really enjoying talking to him i was trying very ahrd not to make any spelling mistakes. i don’t think i did. which brings me to my typing prowess. or lack of. i get a bit distracted by capitalising after a full stop, so please indulge me. also, you’ll be able to tell how tired or excited i am by the typos- the more the merrier or nearly asleep.

besides the chalking i am going to be writing about the gigs i get to and anything on the way. if you have any suggestions for me then mail me at lingourd @ yahoo . com

chalking can be a risky business. passing by some house on ashley hill i heard the beginning of an altercation. a woman had just found a bloke pissing in the entrance to her basement flat.
‘Excuse m, this isn’t appropriate to use my garden like this…’
He grunted. i scribbled. best not to chalk it there and then, i thought. a bit later perhaps.

another bit of chalking ‘eat too much’ a big mama was walking down Richmond Road, that’s DOWN the road, and she was puffing and huffing and talking to herself. i smiled and she smiled back and then she said to no one in particular, ‘Eat too much!’ we laughed and passed. and then she passed some squelchy wind. ‘Pardon,’ i heard her say, again to no one in particular.

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bash bash bashout

yes here i am reporting from the darkness that is the Bashout on Radio Venn (87.7 FM) where dance is forever deconstructed into rock.

So Venn Radio has begun and the festival itself sets of with a bang tomorrow so come check it out and see something you may not have seen before…

The circus is calling once again and the clown is only eating spiders for the ones not here.

a man at the Cube

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Beauty awaits . . .

From the vols list :

Howdy y’all

The brand spanking new Cube programme will be showing up at the Cube sometime tomorrow morning – and a very handsome devil it is too thanks to the hard-working talents of messrs timmi and adam. If any keyholders are available and free in the morning, could they let me know so we can arrange for someone to be in the building when the printers show up.

Thanx!

Hog xx

Heard promising whispers from several sources on this one . . .

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Movieoke Versus the World 8

COMING SOON IT’S:

MOVIEOKE

BE THERE OR BE SQUARE.

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Art + Orchestra = Fuzz Against Junk?

ART

+

Cube Orchestra types

=

fuzz against junk?

No of course not, the equation would be to the power squared, depending on if the stars were in alignment with Daddy Ya Ya’s fingers

Daddy Ya Ya aka Ian Green

Anyhow I’m jumping ahead of meself.

Now if you read my last Post you’d of seen that Unai

Unai

had bought a raggle tangle bunch of Spanish Artists to Bristol and The Cube Orchestra played the opening. Well there was quite a mix there,
a lot of Spanish Diaspora a few old faces, a guy claiming to be Linda Barker

Not Linda Barker

and possibly Cherie Blair.

Cherie Blair?

Well I missed the first performance of the Orchestra (which to be fair was only Hugh, Unai and Belinda though Leo and Barry both blamed Firstbus for their absence) as I was playing The Beautiful Game (We Won and we’re top of the league).

Anyhow we started playing again

Dabuka

were filmed and with a few extra accompanists

join in

THE GANG

Unai on Bass

bel shakes it

DID THEIR THING.

Well I don’t know, maybe the Arabic Rhythms I was playing and the vibe just took some of my Espanol amigos off somewhere as pretty soon there was dancing and a whirling going on

far out AND groovy!
Dance!

Good times for all, my hands were raw, and Bel had a skinful.

So then I headed off to The Cube to see friends Fuzz Against Junk and to help out behind what I thought would be a busy old bar, and my Paradise sense was right, for the gig had sold out. Deservedly too for Fuzz were on fire.

Billy on Fire

Steve Dew AKA King Chimp

Paul

John

Though I know most of Fuzz I’m very impartial (a few years ago at Ashton Court they were awful, the next year pretty good) and this was the best I’d seen them, I enjoyed the new lass singer (sorry no pic) and the mix of Coltrane sax and psychedelic rock was top draw.

Also a big shout for the Visuals (problem with getting drunk is you forget peoples and things names)
Basically a crazee film, illuminati? Anyhow here it is behind everyone’s friend and the bestest hugger in the world, Steve Dew.

Odd film behind Steve Dew

Another great Cube Night.

Well done people. Till next time, your friend,

The Crotch of Richie Paradise Richie Paradise.

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Jandek Doc cont

This comes via Chiz, a very accurate description of the performances by someone named Gavin on the Jandek email list:

[Jandek] Bristol gig report
Gavin gavin at ********.co.uk
Thu May 18 10:15:56 PDT 2006

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The two sets were with a trio of Chris Corsano (as announced), playing a nice shiny Pearl kit (rather than his usual ‘total Frankenstein model’), and Mick Flower (instead of Matt Heyner), playing a black Telecaster in the first set, and then his Japanese banjo for the second; both sets were about 70 minutes each, and consisted of long songs, the opener of the first set being almost 20 minutes, and most averaging 15 minutes minimum. The overall tone of the first set was pretty brutal, and ‘typical’ inasmuch as there was a similarity with the sound of ‘Glasgow Sunday’ and ‘Newcastle Sunday’, but Chris Corsano’s playing felt different to Alex Neilson’s on these occasions…having seen Chris playing solo and in various combinations prior to this, and being partly familiar with some aspects of his playing, this was a surprise inasmuch as his responses to the guitar were similar to the drumming on the mid-period records: heavy pulsing and pounding rhythms that followed the rhythms of the guitar (Corsano/Flower duo performances I’ve seen have a ‘pulse’ that they both seem to lock into at certain points, but this was different again).

The Corwood Representative played in his usual style of stabbing, heavily strummed guitar work, whilst Mick added a more droning guitar style – seemed like his open tuning included some strings tuned to the same note, and others a fifth above, creating a ‘chorus’-like effect of dissonance. His playing allowed notes to ring out more, at some points using a slide, and providing a contrast to the other guitar. At times it seemed to almost provide a droning ‘pedal note’ which underlayed the pieces, something which Flower uses reguarly in the Corsano/Flower duo with the Japanese banjo (thanks to Danny Saul for the above observations).

The second set seemed to have a different ‘character’ to the first, but it was only different by degrees, although Mick Flower’s Japanese banjo (either bowed, or strummed and plucked) did add something to the sound that I’ve not heard in any of the recent live performances or recordings, especially in combination with Chris’ bowing of parts of his kit – and where the first set started full-on, the second began in a much more subdued way, and I could have listened to that combination of scratching and scraping and muttering for a very long time indeed…

The venue was perfect, being a 110-seat cinema, and a surprisingly loud PA (I’d imagined it to sound less overwhelmingly oppressive than it did – felt like my teeth were vibrating through the first song, and I had a killing headache after the first set – but I was front row, pretty much in front of the left side speakers), and the place seemed pretty full, at least for the first set; some people seemed to leave about half way through the second, and one wag in the audience complained that it was ‘too loud’, and that it was hurting his ears when there was a lull prompted by a fire alarm bell – The Corwood Representative (there needs to be an easier way of saying this…as far as I’m concerned Jandek is the collective onstage rather than any individual) seemed amused at this point, whether prompted by the audience comment or by the interjection of the alarm.

Observations: the way the lyrics were selected (from the usual ringbound book on a music stand) seemed haphazard, with a lot of flicking back and forth, and then a kind of nodding of confirmation to himself before turning towards Chris and cranking out the opening chord; the first song’s lyrics were a variation on the ATP opener, only this time it was ‘You’re only 22…’ rather than ‘I’; one song’s only lyrics were ‘Wrap it up/Give me your presents’ (or something like that – didn’t make notes unfortunately), echoing the ‘On The Way’ song title; when the musicians came on, the black hat was put on once onstage (the same thing happened at Gateshead), as if the wearing of the hat was part of the ritual and the ‘persona’; and, as per usual, there was no acknowledgement or eye contact with the audience, although Chris grinned at the obvious audience appreciation; both sets were recorded and filmed, and a person sat next to the cameraman at the end of the second set clapped and clapped and whooped, and I couldn’t decide whether this was drunken enthusiasm or the ‘rabble-rousing’described at the end of the Austin gig…it seemed a bit disingenuous (and quite obviously didn’t prompt an encore).

I was that cameraman, and too was confused by the possibly disingenuous enthusiasm from the man beside me, but given his other reactions through the shows I think he was genuinely (over) enthusiastic.

The person who complained about the sound levels was projections volunteer Tom Taylor – he explained after he is very careful with his hearing, having suffered some hearing damage before, and certain higher frequencies at a loud volume are incredibly painful for him. After leaving he actually listened to, and enjoyed, the set from outside – though others did leave presumably because they couldn’t take the performance at all.

Jandek on flickr (photos of recent shows)

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