Listening To - Bloc Party's Silent Alarm
The Bleedin Bleedins, nice Boston/Irish boys who rock. I'll be pushing their album to Irish press this summer, trying to get distribution etc etc. They're doing a soft release at the SXSW festival in Texas. Listen to em!
http://www.musicfromireland.org/band_thebleedinbleedins.html
Actually, there's a fair few good Irish bands playing SXSW. Namely, The Immediate who I've been following ever since a couple of years ago when I saw them play a shitty support gig in The Hub and the kid in the band gave me their EP, 'Don't Get Lost'. I was blown away by their live show and mostly by the EP.
I'm downloading a new track now 'Aspects'. They've released a single on Fierce Panda which I must pick up. But, they've never got their foothold in Dublin. According to a pretty substantial article on them today in the Sunday Times culture section, they've played more gigs in London than they have here.
Who else is playing, mmm, Jessie and Layla. Guitar chicks, I interviewed Layla the otehr day actually, so here ya goes:
SISTERS DOING IT FOR THEMSELVES
Jessie and Layla live by the phrase ‘Be brave and mighty forces will come to your aid’. Blazing a gutsy trail on the Dublin gig circuit and determined to keep it different, Una Mullally caught up with Layla.
There’s always a temptation, when talking to a Dublin-based artist to rant about the scene. And why not? There’s nothing more enjoyable then talking about oneself and one’s own situation, it’s a national pastime. The rants range from ‘Dublin rawks’ to ‘Dublin sux’ and I personally, I can jump from fence to fence depending on many variables; did I miss the bus? Is it raining? Good gig last night? What is more important than my opinion is, of course, the musician I happen to be talking to. They usually take one side or the other.
Jessie and Layla in many ways, have their heads on a big, fat Dublin block. What they offer is not a category that bound to succeed; bloke + guitar, metal, funk, indie, rock. There is no scene for them and the only niche is their own quality. “If you don’t fit into a category, there’s not much for you to do,” begins Layla, “this town is difficult if you’re trying to do something different. Singer/songwriters were on the fringes, now they’re the mainstream. You know if that’s your thing, you’ll get a gig and fall into a pattern that’s already there because somebody has blazed that trail.” Jessie and Layla are therefore treading through unchartered waters, kept afloat by a positive live reputation, an innovative debut album and a lot of hard work.
The result of this slog, is ‘Kinetic’, a vindication of their ability and which they thoroughly enjoyed creating, “we loved recording and really got stuck into it,” Layla enthuses, “we’re both meticulous people and enjoy that nerdy process of getting particular sounds together. We played a lot of the instruments ourselves because we didn’t have a band when we went into record. Picking up whatever was around kind of pushed us to play instruments you otherwise wouldn’t play.” The seamless collaboration of Jessie and Layla is most probably largely down to their relationship as sisters. For them, music was so integrated in their behaviour, Layla doesn’t even remember the first time that sat down to pool their resources, so to speak.
And who better to make music with than a family member (ask Kings Of Leon or Fiery Furnaces)? “It was easier to get together considering we’re related,” chuckles Layla, then more seriously, “there was a connection that when we started to sing, it was so easy to do. We get each other’s songs. We get each other’s way.”
Jessie and Layla are about to embark on another set of gigs, another step on the path they started off on with weekly sessions in The International. Layla says that they now have a responsibility to spread the album that they’ve cut, and their worth ethic remains the same, “I suppose being true to yourself is a big philosophy for us. We’re honest and straightforward people. It takes guts to stand on your own; you’re putting yourself on the line and being courageous. There aren’t enough people out there taking risks.” Add Jessie and Layla to the list of the few who do.
Anywhoo, Listening to that 'Aspects' single now, not as good as the stuff on the EP, it's kind of stagnant, bit ploddy. I liked them more trashy and kind of shambolic.
Yeah, Bell X1 are playing that festival too, they've got some good tunes and OBVIOUSLY, two coming up on The OC this series. Score. Stef is playing too, or should I say 'The Might Stef'. Stef brings back memories of me and Burco and Lili in The Hub taking photos of him when he was in The Subtonics. That band is still going, but they're fuck all without Stef.
Iain Archer is playing too, check out an interview on www.funkymofo.net.
Who else? The Things who are punky and a bit annoying. Good haircuts though. The Chalets. They're fun. Had a nice pop song on an MTV ad, but their 'Theme' is better, cracking if you will.
So, what else musicwise is coming up. Well, I'm going to see Low tomorrow night in the Village with Sarah, and then The Devlins on Saturday with Lili at some new place in Rathmines http://www.thevenue.ie/, then next Monday (the day before my birthday), it shall be off to Mercury Rev in Vicar Street with Jenna. Fun by za tonne.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
HUNTER AGAIN: obituary time
This is an obituary I wrote today for our college newspaper.
HUNTER S. THOMPSON: “It never got fast enough for me.”
Hunter S. Thompson (67) took his own life on Sunday after years of assaulting American life through random and rebellious acts of journalism. Thompson was the most energetic of the ‘new journalists’, a form he termed ‘gonzo’, in which the writer became an essential part of the story. According to his son, Juan, the cult writer shot himself in the head with a .45 calibre handgun.
A cantankerous recluse, Thompson took great pride in his ‘fortified compound’ in Aspen, Colorado where he eventually took his life. Thompson was a well-know character in Aspen. In 1970, he was almost elected sheriff, running on the Freak Power Party ticket. Right up to his death, trademark unusual stories about his everyday life were reported. These included Thompson accidentally shooting his assistant while chasing a bear off his property and an attack by a dog on one of his prized peacocks. More recently, he was made virtually immobile from hip and leg surgery.
A proud member of the National Rifle Association, Thompson had an impressive weapon collection once remarking, “A lot of people shouldn't own guns. I should. I have a safety record.”
Most of Thompson’s early work was published in Rolling Stone magazine. His first book, Hell’s Angels, was a groundbreaking account of a biker convention. An extract was later included in Tom Wolfe’s collection of the most influential New Journalism articles.
His most famous work, ‘Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas’ was the result of an alcohol and drug fuelled assignment in Las Vegas when Thompson, facing a deadline, decided to write about his experience as met by his drug addled self, rather than the facts of the reporting assignment. This approach of placing himself at the centre of the story was copied by many, although Thompson’s own manic verbal dexterity was rarely equalled.
His political commentary was famously irreverent, labelling George W. Bush a “treacherous little freak” during the 2004 presidential campaign. Thompson’s most celebrated political work, ‘Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72’, tracked the election of Richard Nixon who Thompson despised and believed represented “that dark, venal and incurably violent side of the American character”. The book was included on the Colombia School of Journalism’s top 100 journalistic works of the 20th Century.
Thompson was also a huge music fan, and long time admirer of Bob Dylan. He penned the song ‘You’re A Whole Different Person When You’re Scared’ with Warren Zevon, which contained the ‘Kingdom Of Fear’ lyric, later used as the title of his autobiography. A long time critic of the music industry, he famously labelled it, “a cruel and shallow trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men lie like dogs. There is also a negative side”.
Thompson’s violent death is an end to an enthralling, excessive and debauched life during which he became the iconic hysterical voice of generations from the 1960’s to the present day. He leaves behind an iconic status and a delightfully destructive mantra, “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me.”
HUNTER S. THOMPSON: “It never got fast enough for me.”
Hunter S. Thompson (67) took his own life on Sunday after years of assaulting American life through random and rebellious acts of journalism. Thompson was the most energetic of the ‘new journalists’, a form he termed ‘gonzo’, in which the writer became an essential part of the story. According to his son, Juan, the cult writer shot himself in the head with a .45 calibre handgun.
A cantankerous recluse, Thompson took great pride in his ‘fortified compound’ in Aspen, Colorado where he eventually took his life. Thompson was a well-know character in Aspen. In 1970, he was almost elected sheriff, running on the Freak Power Party ticket. Right up to his death, trademark unusual stories about his everyday life were reported. These included Thompson accidentally shooting his assistant while chasing a bear off his property and an attack by a dog on one of his prized peacocks. More recently, he was made virtually immobile from hip and leg surgery.
A proud member of the National Rifle Association, Thompson had an impressive weapon collection once remarking, “A lot of people shouldn't own guns. I should. I have a safety record.”
Most of Thompson’s early work was published in Rolling Stone magazine. His first book, Hell’s Angels, was a groundbreaking account of a biker convention. An extract was later included in Tom Wolfe’s collection of the most influential New Journalism articles.
His most famous work, ‘Fear And Loathing in Las Vegas’ was the result of an alcohol and drug fuelled assignment in Las Vegas when Thompson, facing a deadline, decided to write about his experience as met by his drug addled self, rather than the facts of the reporting assignment. This approach of placing himself at the centre of the story was copied by many, although Thompson’s own manic verbal dexterity was rarely equalled.
His political commentary was famously irreverent, labelling George W. Bush a “treacherous little freak” during the 2004 presidential campaign. Thompson’s most celebrated political work, ‘Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail ‘72’, tracked the election of Richard Nixon who Thompson despised and believed represented “that dark, venal and incurably violent side of the American character”. The book was included on the Colombia School of Journalism’s top 100 journalistic works of the 20th Century.
Thompson was also a huge music fan, and long time admirer of Bob Dylan. He penned the song ‘You’re A Whole Different Person When You’re Scared’ with Warren Zevon, which contained the ‘Kingdom Of Fear’ lyric, later used as the title of his autobiography. A long time critic of the music industry, he famously labelled it, “a cruel and shallow trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men lie like dogs. There is also a negative side”.
Thompson’s violent death is an end to an enthralling, excessive and debauched life during which he became the iconic hysterical voice of generations from the 1960’s to the present day. He leaves behind an iconic status and a delightfully destructive mantra, “I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me.”
Hunter In His Own Words
I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me.
I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side.
When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.
"I have always loved marijuana. It has been a source of joy and comfort to me for many years. And I still think of it as a basic staple of life, along with beer and ice and grapefruits - and millions of Americans agree with me."
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive. . . ." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. - Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
We are, after all, professionals.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.
The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side.
When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.
"I have always loved marijuana. It has been a source of joy and comfort to me for many years. And I still think of it as a basic staple of life, along with beer and ice and grapefruits - and millions of Americans agree with me."
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold. I remember saying something like "I feel a bit lightheaded; maybe you should drive. . . ." And suddenly there was a terrible roar all around us and the sky was full of what looked like huge bats, all swooping and screeching and diving around the car, which was going about a hundred miles an hour with the top down to Las Vegas. - Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas
We are, after all, professionals.
We had two bags of grass, seventy-five pellets of mescaline, five sheets of high-powered blotter acid, a saltshaker half-full of cocaine, and a whole galaxy of uppers, downers, laughers, screamers... Also, a quart of tequila, a quart of rum, a case of beer, a pint of raw ether, and two dozen amyls. Not that we needed all that for the trip, but once you get into a serious drug collection, the tendency is to push it as far as you can. The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge, and I knew we'd get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.
Monday, February 21, 2005
HUNTER S. THOMPSON RIP
I'm devastated. Really and truly. Time for reflection will come soon.
"It never got fast enough for me"
Una
Listening to: JJ72 - Brother Sleep (live)
"It never got fast enough for me"
Una
Listening to: JJ72 - Brother Sleep (live)
Juliette and The Licks
Cracking gig, Juliette Lewis storming the place at Voodoo in Dublin. Pity about the poncey support act.
She has energy. She's honest. She put on a good rock show. And she was a complete sweetheart when I interviewed her recently. When she nervously asked my age (and I replied '21') she said "oh my god, I have a whole new love for you!" Then she started saying stuff like, "well, try to find happiness, don't get too cynical." I thought, jesus, if I start taking lifestyle tips from Juliette Lewis, I'll be pretty fucked...
LICK IT AND SEE
Juliette And The Licks are, as Paris Hilton would put it, HOT. She may be more famous for Natural Born Killers, Kalifornia, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, Cape Fear and Old School, but now, Juliette Lewis is earning a reputation as one of the most kickass rock stars around. Some people have all the luck. Una Mullally listens up.
It is not every morning that I am awoken by Juliette Lewis. She has called early, long before my trusty alarm clock was to warn me five minutes before the scheduled time of 8.30am (yes, AM). As it dawns on me that Lewis herself has made the call, (“um, hey, is that Ewe-Na?”) instead of the usual ‘warning’ call from a PA, my brain roars ‘action!’ and we settle down for a right old natter.
What’s your favourite lick? She pauses and then lets out a long dirty laugh. “That’s cute, I like that.” Juliette Lewis is speechless. I win. “Um, like in the band? Oh, hehe. Em. Man, AC/DC have some good licks!” she blurts desperately. “The Stones, yeah.” She finds her groove eventually, “You know, there’s this new song we have called ‘Speaking Your Mouth’. That’s got some cool riffs in it. Hehe.” For someone so notorious, it’s strange to almost feel her blushing down the phone line. Moving swiftly on.
Juliette Lewis is generally portrayed as an erratic and eccentric character. Trivia about her occasionally outrageous life is plentiful. She dropped out of high school after a few weeks. The mug shot from her first arrest when she was fifteen years old, now hangs poster-size in her home. Aged sixteen, she began dating Brad Pitt – a relationship that spanned four years. And professionally, she has opted to take up some of the most controversial roles in cinema, namely her portrayal of a murderer opposite Woody Harrelson in 1994’s ‘Natural Born Killers’, directed by Oliver Stone. Lewis, now 32, is used to speculation on her own mental health thanks to her choice of roles, announcing at a recent gig in the ‘Knitting Factory’, Los Angeles, “I was in this little movie called ‘Natural Born Killers’. Well, everyone's always asking my parents if I'm really that crazy. They never ask if Woody is that crazy. Well, I've got the answer for you now – I’m just that fucking good!”
Right now, she’s tired. She has just driven home from the studio in LA, where The Licks’ debut album - the follow-up to last year’s riotous ‘Like A Bolt Of Lightening’ EP - is nearing completion. “The new album is really exciting,” she gushes, “this has been so enjoyable because we have a little more time to do it. The EP we did in one week and that raw kind of limitation became part of the sound.” Indeed it did. ‘Like A Bolt Of Lightening’ hits you just like that. As delightfully crude and writhing as Lewis is on stage, it’s a flashback to an age when sweat was the uniform and stage diving the accessory. The EP was an intense punch in last year’s rock market, bullying other debuts off the shelves. The album, however, may be a little less rough around the edges, “this album is much more developed,” Lewis purrs. “The songs are more developed lyrically. There’s some piano, and s’more rockers in there.”
Lewis’ on-stage antics have been met with mixed responses. Mostly, reviewers and audience members alike are initially taken aback with her High Energy Ô approach (“I dunno, I take vitamins”), but the entertainment value has been fully endorsed. At this stage, a Licks gig guarantees a good time. Stateside, the gigs have gone down a storm, and the band has tightened along the road. Unfortunately, that hasn’t stopped the music press this side of the pond making disparaging noises regarding her live performances. Most comments usually include the words ‘spastic’, ‘epileptic’ or ‘mental’. Well, if Iggy Pop can act like a contestant riding an invisible bucking bronco, then Lewis should get away with whatever she wants. Right now, Lewis is about to face the less than friendly European music tabloids with a tour of Britain and Ireland. Still, she seems determined to go further afield, “we have so much more to do. I wanna get out of America and see and play other places. The musicians in my band, this is their livelihood.” She is a musician herself of course, but her modesty and lack of musical training makes her feel unworthy of claiming the same title she gives her band mates. She sounds nervous and doesn’t flatly deny it, “well, I try not to let nervousness drive me.”
Now, a self-proclaimed “clean livin’” woman, Lewis moved to Florida to be with her mother in 1996. Lewis was drained and fighting a drug habit that very nearly claimed her life. She checked into a rehabilitation centre run by the Church of Scientology to which she subscribes and was back on movie sets a couple years later. Touring is not the sanest of atmospheres. Living out of a bus, performing every night followed by the obligatory partying provides an atmosphere where drugs are practically a must; to bring you down after a gig, or rev you up for the next one. However, Lewis’ on the road antics revolve around bad jokes and cartoons on DVD. “It’s really ridiculous,” she enthuses, “it’s all about finding a bathroom, heheh, just poop humour, man. Because it’s me and all the dudes, so it’s just non-stop toilet humour. And I’m as bad as all of ‘em. I guess you could say it’s really, um, intimate! Generally, we sweat our asses off at the show, then kick back, make popcorn and watch ‘Family Guy’. ‘Family Guy’ is the best.” Hear hear.
Lewis, for her part is full of questions. She wants to know if people in Ireland know about her, and if so, what do they think. When I tell her that she’s on the cover of a Dublin magazine, I’m met with “oh shit!” She’s worried that people here won’t see her as a musician, but just as an actress. I offer comfort in the form of positive comments I’ve heard about her live show, “well, that’s what I tell people, y’know?” she says earnestly. “To know me, it, you gotta see the live show. My heart is in it. I always knew the live show had to be exciting. I’m just trying to give people what I would want to get.”
Tiredness takes its toll towards the end of the interview. I may be up early, but Lewis is into the early hours of the morning in her part of the world. Nevertheless she is still friendly, funny and interested. She goes off on self-deprecating mini-rants when I ask her some slightly deeper questions, like describing The Licks’ philosophy, “Man! You’re really letting me have it, aren’tcha? Fuck, normally I’m ready to go make a speech on that. Hmm, we want to release people from everyday troubles. We want to entertain, and make you think a little, but for that, I guess you have to read the liner notes. Heheh.”
She has energy. She's honest. She put on a good rock show. And she was a complete sweetheart when I interviewed her recently. When she nervously asked my age (and I replied '21') she said "oh my god, I have a whole new love for you!" Then she started saying stuff like, "well, try to find happiness, don't get too cynical." I thought, jesus, if I start taking lifestyle tips from Juliette Lewis, I'll be pretty fucked...
LICK IT AND SEE
Juliette And The Licks are, as Paris Hilton would put it, HOT. She may be more famous for Natural Born Killers, Kalifornia, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, Cape Fear and Old School, but now, Juliette Lewis is earning a reputation as one of the most kickass rock stars around. Some people have all the luck. Una Mullally listens up.
It is not every morning that I am awoken by Juliette Lewis. She has called early, long before my trusty alarm clock was to warn me five minutes before the scheduled time of 8.30am (yes, AM). As it dawns on me that Lewis herself has made the call, (“um, hey, is that Ewe-Na?”) instead of the usual ‘warning’ call from a PA, my brain roars ‘action!’ and we settle down for a right old natter.
What’s your favourite lick? She pauses and then lets out a long dirty laugh. “That’s cute, I like that.” Juliette Lewis is speechless. I win. “Um, like in the band? Oh, hehe. Em. Man, AC/DC have some good licks!” she blurts desperately. “The Stones, yeah.” She finds her groove eventually, “You know, there’s this new song we have called ‘Speaking Your Mouth’. That’s got some cool riffs in it. Hehe.” For someone so notorious, it’s strange to almost feel her blushing down the phone line. Moving swiftly on.
Juliette Lewis is generally portrayed as an erratic and eccentric character. Trivia about her occasionally outrageous life is plentiful. She dropped out of high school after a few weeks. The mug shot from her first arrest when she was fifteen years old, now hangs poster-size in her home. Aged sixteen, she began dating Brad Pitt – a relationship that spanned four years. And professionally, she has opted to take up some of the most controversial roles in cinema, namely her portrayal of a murderer opposite Woody Harrelson in 1994’s ‘Natural Born Killers’, directed by Oliver Stone. Lewis, now 32, is used to speculation on her own mental health thanks to her choice of roles, announcing at a recent gig in the ‘Knitting Factory’, Los Angeles, “I was in this little movie called ‘Natural Born Killers’. Well, everyone's always asking my parents if I'm really that crazy. They never ask if Woody is that crazy. Well, I've got the answer for you now – I’m just that fucking good!”
Right now, she’s tired. She has just driven home from the studio in LA, where The Licks’ debut album - the follow-up to last year’s riotous ‘Like A Bolt Of Lightening’ EP - is nearing completion. “The new album is really exciting,” she gushes, “this has been so enjoyable because we have a little more time to do it. The EP we did in one week and that raw kind of limitation became part of the sound.” Indeed it did. ‘Like A Bolt Of Lightening’ hits you just like that. As delightfully crude and writhing as Lewis is on stage, it’s a flashback to an age when sweat was the uniform and stage diving the accessory. The EP was an intense punch in last year’s rock market, bullying other debuts off the shelves. The album, however, may be a little less rough around the edges, “this album is much more developed,” Lewis purrs. “The songs are more developed lyrically. There’s some piano, and s’more rockers in there.”
Lewis’ on-stage antics have been met with mixed responses. Mostly, reviewers and audience members alike are initially taken aback with her High Energy Ô approach (“I dunno, I take vitamins”), but the entertainment value has been fully endorsed. At this stage, a Licks gig guarantees a good time. Stateside, the gigs have gone down a storm, and the band has tightened along the road. Unfortunately, that hasn’t stopped the music press this side of the pond making disparaging noises regarding her live performances. Most comments usually include the words ‘spastic’, ‘epileptic’ or ‘mental’. Well, if Iggy Pop can act like a contestant riding an invisible bucking bronco, then Lewis should get away with whatever she wants. Right now, Lewis is about to face the less than friendly European music tabloids with a tour of Britain and Ireland. Still, she seems determined to go further afield, “we have so much more to do. I wanna get out of America and see and play other places. The musicians in my band, this is their livelihood.” She is a musician herself of course, but her modesty and lack of musical training makes her feel unworthy of claiming the same title she gives her band mates. She sounds nervous and doesn’t flatly deny it, “well, I try not to let nervousness drive me.”
Now, a self-proclaimed “clean livin’” woman, Lewis moved to Florida to be with her mother in 1996. Lewis was drained and fighting a drug habit that very nearly claimed her life. She checked into a rehabilitation centre run by the Church of Scientology to which she subscribes and was back on movie sets a couple years later. Touring is not the sanest of atmospheres. Living out of a bus, performing every night followed by the obligatory partying provides an atmosphere where drugs are practically a must; to bring you down after a gig, or rev you up for the next one. However, Lewis’ on the road antics revolve around bad jokes and cartoons on DVD. “It’s really ridiculous,” she enthuses, “it’s all about finding a bathroom, heheh, just poop humour, man. Because it’s me and all the dudes, so it’s just non-stop toilet humour. And I’m as bad as all of ‘em. I guess you could say it’s really, um, intimate! Generally, we sweat our asses off at the show, then kick back, make popcorn and watch ‘Family Guy’. ‘Family Guy’ is the best.” Hear hear.
Lewis, for her part is full of questions. She wants to know if people in Ireland know about her, and if so, what do they think. When I tell her that she’s on the cover of a Dublin magazine, I’m met with “oh shit!” She’s worried that people here won’t see her as a musician, but just as an actress. I offer comfort in the form of positive comments I’ve heard about her live show, “well, that’s what I tell people, y’know?” she says earnestly. “To know me, it, you gotta see the live show. My heart is in it. I always knew the live show had to be exciting. I’m just trying to give people what I would want to get.”
Tiredness takes its toll towards the end of the interview. I may be up early, but Lewis is into the early hours of the morning in her part of the world. Nevertheless she is still friendly, funny and interested. She goes off on self-deprecating mini-rants when I ask her some slightly deeper questions, like describing The Licks’ philosophy, “Man! You’re really letting me have it, aren’tcha? Fuck, normally I’m ready to go make a speech on that. Hmm, we want to release people from everyday troubles. We want to entertain, and make you think a little, but for that, I guess you have to read the liner notes. Heheh.”
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Bloc Party Interview
BLOC PARTY, SO HERE THEY ARE (an interview with Gordy)
Now, at the beginning of 2005, it’s hard to determine what the most exiting thing about Bloc Party. On one side, you have a band as fresh, sharp and raw as a smack across the face from a hefty salmon, who, despite the assertive lyrical statements of “I’m on Fire!” and “I can give you life/I can take it away” appear utterly vulnerable. The other side in this unequal equation is the cause of that vulnerability, an unprecedented amount of attention from press, TV, radio and the public. So here they are, and there’s nothing much they can to about it but hold it down. Grabbing a lamppost in the gale force shouting of a media determined to transplant boys with guitars out of the basement clubs and on to the pages of ‘Heat’.
This new age of celebrity perhaps comes from the evolution of the traditional celeb, whose every action is run through a succession of PR filters before it reaches the hungry press. Rock stars in their twenties are a whole different thing altogether. There have very few minders to stop them going out getting bolloxed and throwing kebabs at photographers. Their drug use is displayed openly and almost with humour, not like the murky cover-ups of Hollywood starlets. The link between media-management-band is blurred. In fact, for this very article, I was tossed Gordy’s cell phone number to call whenever I liked on a given day. That doesn’t happen with even the most unheard of boy band.
The outcome of this may be a media losing interest with the antics of smack-taking, guitar-smashing, gorilla-gigging and model-fucking twenty-two year olds. Or, it maybe the advent of a PR bastion usually reserved for pop artist and the rest of the celebrity ladder, A to D list.
It was The Libertines who slowly kick-started this public relations revolution, along with the phenomenon of guerrilla gigging. The attention given to this band and their affiliates has been so intense that some have begun to even question their very existence, relating their presence to a Baudrillard media simulation in the meta-narrative of rock and roll. They are, of course real in flesh and blood, but now, not in many other terms.
Fortunately for Bloc Party, they have one advantage for their survival in the near future. Their music screams louder and with more clarity than any battle cry of ‘THE NEXT FRANZ FERDINAND’. A beautifully curious collection of rhythms, riffs and yelps, Bloc Party, despite what you may read, are not particularly in tune with the Zeitgeist of The Killers and The Bravery (notice the very American obviousness of trend hijacking). Their noise is quieter than Kaiser Chiefs, far more constructed than The Libertines and with none of Franz Ferdinand’s irony. What emerges is a purity, perhaps not seen with such impact since Oasis. I for one certainly do not remember a band whose very existence (along, of course with their music) is having such an impact on the music media.
Most importantly, it remains still remains a joy and on some level, a relief to discover that behind all the shit, Bloc Party make fucking beautiful music.
It must be a busy day for you (today, the album, Silent Alarm is released)
Yeah. We’ve done a couple of radio things, and a TV piece, which goes out tonight. I think this will be the last thing we do today.
Are you worried about where the album will chart?
Not worried, I never was particularly worried. We’ve done what we hoped to do, but I heard that maybe it’s heading for top three, which is, well, y’know.
This last short while of your gigs, single releases, album recording, interviews and never-ending press. You’ve come under such scrutiny. Why do you think all of that happened?
I don’t know. It’s a bit scary when you put it like that. I could understand it if it happened before. I think the press kind of seize on things when there’s something in the air. I think the Franz Ferdinand thing has something to do with it. Like, I think Franz Ferdinand came as a surprise to people. Now people say it could happen again. I’m not the best person to speculate on the reasons. The more we’re asked to speculate, the less real it becomes, and the less control we will have over what happens.
People talk about the cycle of music, and how guitar music is in resurgence again. It’s difficult to say. Then, you begin to wonder, are we actually a product of a trend or not? My opinion is there’s probably been a gap for a band to really be taken to heart. That hasn’t happened of late, they’ve been more throwaway.
Are you frightened of a backlash?
It’s more a question of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. The most important opinion of us is the people who listen to our music and buy our music. I suppose, it will be interesting to see what, creatively the outcome will be. None of us want to come under pressure and make an angry record. At the same time, we want to be kept on our toes.
Could you sum up your personal experience of being in your position at this moment?
What you’re really asking is what it’s like. What is it like? Em, it’s kind of a bit, well, for want of avoiding cliché, the rollercoaster. You find moments of complete rush. Like, last night, at the NME awards. The night was a bit of the scene congratulating itself but playing the song we did in front of such influential people, I came off stage and my heart was really pumping. Excitement like that is scary.
What is your best memory from the NME tour?
I think what I came out of that tour with was making a bunch of friends. My new best friend is Ricky from Kaiser Chiefs. We had to share a dressing room. We were the bottom two bands so, there wasn’t always a room for everyone. We found we got quite used to it. I think when you’re in a band, the more success you get, the more you’re handled with kid gloves, so it was nice to have those moments of camaraderie I suppose.
When everyone wants a piece of you, how do you make sure there is something left for yourself?
That’s a really good question. I think you purposely keep something back. We talk about what we’ve done, we don’t talk in great detail about stuff we do away from it. We are really busy with it, and you keep it in perspective. We aren’t the kind of band who will be falling out of trendy bars, because then, you’re life becomes public property. We see that it’s important to see that distinction.
We’re mostly concerned with getting on with what we’ve been doing and creating music free of distraction. You can do it, sustain a personal life and family. Any artist should be able to work and relax and carry on a normal existence. I think like, you know, if you take modern artists and painters, these aren’t people that are followed around. The ideal is to be judged on your work and nothing else, not on the parties you go to or the people you hang out with it.
I suppose Pete Doherty is a good example of how that can be screwed up…
It’s a real shame, depending on who much you think of The Libertines as a band. The sad thing is, he potentially was one of the more human faces of the rock scene. He was looking to make it more honest and raw. But, maybe he got to close to that, maybe that was his problem. I think he got to exposed to it. He has become a shadow of what a musician should be celebrated for. It’s a real shame. Somebody is to blame. I’m going to say any names, but someone is, including himself. It’s quite sad really.
What’s your favourite song on the album?
It tends to change, which I suppose is a good thing. It used to be ‘Positive Tension’, but I always come back to ‘This Modern Love’. It seems to be one of the purest. We all love playing that song.
If it all ended tomorrow, what memory from this experience would you take with you?
I think there’s a lot. I remember how it feels to get played on radio, the real schoolboy excitement. I think going on stage at the Reading festival in front of 5,000 people…I suppose you’ll have to wait for the autobiography.
Now, at the beginning of 2005, it’s hard to determine what the most exiting thing about Bloc Party. On one side, you have a band as fresh, sharp and raw as a smack across the face from a hefty salmon, who, despite the assertive lyrical statements of “I’m on Fire!” and “I can give you life/I can take it away” appear utterly vulnerable. The other side in this unequal equation is the cause of that vulnerability, an unprecedented amount of attention from press, TV, radio and the public. So here they are, and there’s nothing much they can to about it but hold it down. Grabbing a lamppost in the gale force shouting of a media determined to transplant boys with guitars out of the basement clubs and on to the pages of ‘Heat’.
This new age of celebrity perhaps comes from the evolution of the traditional celeb, whose every action is run through a succession of PR filters before it reaches the hungry press. Rock stars in their twenties are a whole different thing altogether. There have very few minders to stop them going out getting bolloxed and throwing kebabs at photographers. Their drug use is displayed openly and almost with humour, not like the murky cover-ups of Hollywood starlets. The link between media-management-band is blurred. In fact, for this very article, I was tossed Gordy’s cell phone number to call whenever I liked on a given day. That doesn’t happen with even the most unheard of boy band.
The outcome of this may be a media losing interest with the antics of smack-taking, guitar-smashing, gorilla-gigging and model-fucking twenty-two year olds. Or, it maybe the advent of a PR bastion usually reserved for pop artist and the rest of the celebrity ladder, A to D list.
It was The Libertines who slowly kick-started this public relations revolution, along with the phenomenon of guerrilla gigging. The attention given to this band and their affiliates has been so intense that some have begun to even question their very existence, relating their presence to a Baudrillard media simulation in the meta-narrative of rock and roll. They are, of course real in flesh and blood, but now, not in many other terms.
Fortunately for Bloc Party, they have one advantage for their survival in the near future. Their music screams louder and with more clarity than any battle cry of ‘THE NEXT FRANZ FERDINAND’. A beautifully curious collection of rhythms, riffs and yelps, Bloc Party, despite what you may read, are not particularly in tune with the Zeitgeist of The Killers and The Bravery (notice the very American obviousness of trend hijacking). Their noise is quieter than Kaiser Chiefs, far more constructed than The Libertines and with none of Franz Ferdinand’s irony. What emerges is a purity, perhaps not seen with such impact since Oasis. I for one certainly do not remember a band whose very existence (along, of course with their music) is having such an impact on the music media.
Most importantly, it remains still remains a joy and on some level, a relief to discover that behind all the shit, Bloc Party make fucking beautiful music.
It must be a busy day for you (today, the album, Silent Alarm is released)
Yeah. We’ve done a couple of radio things, and a TV piece, which goes out tonight. I think this will be the last thing we do today.
Are you worried about where the album will chart?
Not worried, I never was particularly worried. We’ve done what we hoped to do, but I heard that maybe it’s heading for top three, which is, well, y’know.
This last short while of your gigs, single releases, album recording, interviews and never-ending press. You’ve come under such scrutiny. Why do you think all of that happened?
I don’t know. It’s a bit scary when you put it like that. I could understand it if it happened before. I think the press kind of seize on things when there’s something in the air. I think the Franz Ferdinand thing has something to do with it. Like, I think Franz Ferdinand came as a surprise to people. Now people say it could happen again. I’m not the best person to speculate on the reasons. The more we’re asked to speculate, the less real it becomes, and the less control we will have over what happens.
People talk about the cycle of music, and how guitar music is in resurgence again. It’s difficult to say. Then, you begin to wonder, are we actually a product of a trend or not? My opinion is there’s probably been a gap for a band to really be taken to heart. That hasn’t happened of late, they’ve been more throwaway.
Are you frightened of a backlash?
It’s more a question of ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. The most important opinion of us is the people who listen to our music and buy our music. I suppose, it will be interesting to see what, creatively the outcome will be. None of us want to come under pressure and make an angry record. At the same time, we want to be kept on our toes.
Could you sum up your personal experience of being in your position at this moment?
What you’re really asking is what it’s like. What is it like? Em, it’s kind of a bit, well, for want of avoiding cliché, the rollercoaster. You find moments of complete rush. Like, last night, at the NME awards. The night was a bit of the scene congratulating itself but playing the song we did in front of such influential people, I came off stage and my heart was really pumping. Excitement like that is scary.
What is your best memory from the NME tour?
I think what I came out of that tour with was making a bunch of friends. My new best friend is Ricky from Kaiser Chiefs. We had to share a dressing room. We were the bottom two bands so, there wasn’t always a room for everyone. We found we got quite used to it. I think when you’re in a band, the more success you get, the more you’re handled with kid gloves, so it was nice to have those moments of camaraderie I suppose.
When everyone wants a piece of you, how do you make sure there is something left for yourself?
That’s a really good question. I think you purposely keep something back. We talk about what we’ve done, we don’t talk in great detail about stuff we do away from it. We are really busy with it, and you keep it in perspective. We aren’t the kind of band who will be falling out of trendy bars, because then, you’re life becomes public property. We see that it’s important to see that distinction.
We’re mostly concerned with getting on with what we’ve been doing and creating music free of distraction. You can do it, sustain a personal life and family. Any artist should be able to work and relax and carry on a normal existence. I think like, you know, if you take modern artists and painters, these aren’t people that are followed around. The ideal is to be judged on your work and nothing else, not on the parties you go to or the people you hang out with it.
I suppose Pete Doherty is a good example of how that can be screwed up…
It’s a real shame, depending on who much you think of The Libertines as a band. The sad thing is, he potentially was one of the more human faces of the rock scene. He was looking to make it more honest and raw. But, maybe he got to close to that, maybe that was his problem. I think he got to exposed to it. He has become a shadow of what a musician should be celebrated for. It’s a real shame. Somebody is to blame. I’m going to say any names, but someone is, including himself. It’s quite sad really.
What’s your favourite song on the album?
It tends to change, which I suppose is a good thing. It used to be ‘Positive Tension’, but I always come back to ‘This Modern Love’. It seems to be one of the purest. We all love playing that song.
If it all ended tomorrow, what memory from this experience would you take with you?
I think there’s a lot. I remember how it feels to get played on radio, the real schoolboy excitement. I think going on stage at the Reading festival in front of 5,000 people…I suppose you’ll have to wait for the autobiography.
Friday, February 18, 2005
2 Days
Thursday
Ah, newsdays, the friendly thorn in the side of a last semester of DCU. We worked on stories, told bad jokes and when it was done, went home.
I went back into town and met Lili to go see Electric Six in The Village. The crowd was too much. Way too packed, crowd surfing, moshing, stage diving, the works. Lili and I were snug in the VIP area upstairs gazing down at the madness and sipping on Coronas with lime. That's how we roll.
After the gig, on to Kev's surprise (and very late) birthday party in Flannery's across the road. Many class members, family, other friends all that. Lili lost her pink hat.
Friday
Staying in Lili's and sleeping on a chair left much tiredness the next morning. First things first, interviewing Peter Devlin from The Devlins. He was pleased at having Natalie Portman strip off to his song in 'Closer'. Ha. Later, hangin out with Burco and Lili at their college, before going home to interview Gordy from Bloc Party who was more than a sweetheart. A tired sweetheart. I'll post the interview soon, maybe the link.
Listening to: The Harvest Ministers - Surrendering My Heart
Ah, newsdays, the friendly thorn in the side of a last semester of DCU. We worked on stories, told bad jokes and when it was done, went home.
I went back into town and met Lili to go see Electric Six in The Village. The crowd was too much. Way too packed, crowd surfing, moshing, stage diving, the works. Lili and I were snug in the VIP area upstairs gazing down at the madness and sipping on Coronas with lime. That's how we roll.
After the gig, on to Kev's surprise (and very late) birthday party in Flannery's across the road. Many class members, family, other friends all that. Lili lost her pink hat.
Friday
Staying in Lili's and sleeping on a chair left much tiredness the next morning. First things first, interviewing Peter Devlin from The Devlins. He was pleased at having Natalie Portman strip off to his song in 'Closer'. Ha. Later, hangin out with Burco and Lili at their college, before going home to interview Gordy from Bloc Party who was more than a sweetheart. A tired sweetheart. I'll post the interview soon, maybe the link.
Listening to: The Harvest Ministers - Surrendering My Heart
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
It’s nice when those you admire remember you
Tonight, after much cancellation last week, I had a phone interview with Mark Kozelek. He doesn’t do much press. I had done a phone interview with him last year before I really got into any of his stuff. I didn’t go to the gig though. But, at some stage, probably in early January, I started to listen to Sun Kil Moon, the Ghosts Of The Great Highway album. Something really stuck out. Track two, Carry Me Ohio. It’s so sad and beautiful. CLICHEville, population me, but I don’t care it is. Pretentiousness is emotional dishonesty and I am being honest. This is a perfect loophole I have found to avoid the pitfall of pretentiousness. Goal. Anyway, MCD who are promoting his next solo gig were getting pissed off because he kept changing the interview time. So, I rang him this evening and before I got through my generic introduction, he stopped me saying “Hey, I know, I remember you, how are you?” Which was nice. He was asking why I wasn’t at the gig the last time. I didn’t have a proper excuse, other than to forgo and explanation completely by promising my attendance at the next gig. He said he read my article. Kozelek is an honest guy, and his voice didn’t resonate with disapproval. I must dig up the article and see if I sounded, gulp, pretentious. This one will be better. We talked and he asked me where is a good place to eat. I recommended the only place I could think of at the time.
Listening to - Sun Kil Moon - Glenn Tipton
Listening to - Sun Kil Moon - Glenn Tipton
Monday, February 07, 2005
I'm obscure, according to some
Yeah, I kinda knew there was no way I'd get that review printed!
Read Message - Inbox
From :Lili ForbergAdd to Addressbook
To : MOOLLALLY
Sent :07 Feb 2005 18:03:25
Subject :stereophonics
check this out.
----- Original Message -----
From: Louisa Houghton
To: Sent: Monday, February 07, 2005 4:21 PM
Hi Lili,
Could you send the pics to indoents@campus.ie instead of independent@ditsu? I dont think I'll be putting the accompanying article in the paper. I'm not sure if you've read it, but it's just a little too obscure for the DIT Independent. Looking forward to seeing the pics!
Regards,
Louisa
Read Message - Inbox
From :Lili Forberg
To : MOOLLALLY
Sent :07 Feb 2005 18:03:25
Subject :stereophonics
check this out.
----- Original Message -----
From: Louisa Houghton
To: Sent: Monday, February 07, 2005 4:21 PM
Hi Lili,
Could you send the pics to indoents@campus.ie instead of independent@ditsu? I dont think I'll be putting the accompanying article in the paper. I'm not sure if you've read it, but it's just a little too obscure for the DIT Independent. Looking forward to seeing the pics!
Regards,
Louisa
Sunday, February 06, 2005
This is our group photo from Brussels. As Elaine says, I look 'smug'. It was taken in the Residential Palace, where loads of the journalists in Brussels have their offices. When Belgium was in control of the Congo, this is the building that control operated from weird. We were in the boardroom on the 3rd floor most of the time.
Saturday, February 05, 2005
A mean review, will I get away with this?
I'll update this question when I see the printed version. I can't imagine they won't edit it.
THE MOST IMPORTANT BAND OF OUR GENERATION
The Last Of The Summer Wine. There is a bored familiarity. It is comfortably familiar to those who require very little from rock music. Then, at one end of the spectrum it flows unnoticed, as invisible as the sound wave upon which the notes marshal. And at the other end lie pissed off cells. An appreciation of the indie to which the mainstream is now accustomed is battering against the middle of the road, which the Stereophonics paint the white lines down. Not a hard shoulder. And so, album after album, the Stereophonics occupied a slot in UKTV Gold as regular as four more-than-middle-aged men sitting on a pub’s picnic table, every episode culminating in the construction of a worthless contraption and one cast member rolling down a hill. Amusing. Well, amusement used as a device to distract oneself from travel sickness. Think of something funny.
There are too many jokes to hurl at the concept of a ‘secret gig’. I remember, once, attending a ‘low key’ Revs gig, when the jaded Donegal threesome were reaching the closing stages of even their modest failings. About five people attended. And the lead singer announced, “so low key I suppose we forgot to tell anyone.” But, secret, this was, apart from all those who knew.
Whelan’s is depressing at the best of times. Once, I was in control of lighting and I had to turn them all up because the lead singer’s contact lens fell out. It is with this watery semi-blindness the fan’s formation panned out in front of the stage. Now, given the context; a new album, a ‘different’ single, an Argentinean drummer and an altered voice. The single is different, so a murderer pleads insanity and is gifted a period of incarceration in a secure hospital. However, the victim will never breathe.
Kelly Jones squirms, not visibly. But, you can tell. In his voice change, in the refusal to play their most popular - and, predictably, most trite - offerings. Bands often confuse a rebirth as a method of erasing their now embarrassing offerings. Throwing out teenage poetry at 22. But there is a stone in a stomach refusing to forget it was still written. With glee and neglect of karmic law I report that the ‘fresh’ material, is a sufficient departure as a Thanksgiving episode of Friends is to an episode of Friends.
As I watched, my main priority was attracting the photographer to give her the pint I bought. Anyway, my companion remarked, “I know what this is. It’s like a gig in Hollyoaks.” It made sense to emit such a self-important statement in a self-important manner, in an atmosphere that pretended relevance. We had spent the previous five minutes trading tsunami jokes.
And so, this review is complete in a manner so pretentious and expectant as the Stereophonics hypothesise. Kelly Jones expects his music to be bought. Fuck right off chap. By the way, this article has probably been heavily edited, which lends itself to the banality that is left over. ‘Phonics anyone? My round. One more of the same.
THE MOST IMPORTANT BAND OF OUR GENERATION
The Last Of The Summer Wine. There is a bored familiarity. It is comfortably familiar to those who require very little from rock music. Then, at one end of the spectrum it flows unnoticed, as invisible as the sound wave upon which the notes marshal. And at the other end lie pissed off cells. An appreciation of the indie to which the mainstream is now accustomed is battering against the middle of the road, which the Stereophonics paint the white lines down. Not a hard shoulder. And so, album after album, the Stereophonics occupied a slot in UKTV Gold as regular as four more-than-middle-aged men sitting on a pub’s picnic table, every episode culminating in the construction of a worthless contraption and one cast member rolling down a hill. Amusing. Well, amusement used as a device to distract oneself from travel sickness. Think of something funny.
There are too many jokes to hurl at the concept of a ‘secret gig’. I remember, once, attending a ‘low key’ Revs gig, when the jaded Donegal threesome were reaching the closing stages of even their modest failings. About five people attended. And the lead singer announced, “so low key I suppose we forgot to tell anyone.” But, secret, this was, apart from all those who knew.
Whelan’s is depressing at the best of times. Once, I was in control of lighting and I had to turn them all up because the lead singer’s contact lens fell out. It is with this watery semi-blindness the fan’s formation panned out in front of the stage. Now, given the context; a new album, a ‘different’ single, an Argentinean drummer and an altered voice. The single is different, so a murderer pleads insanity and is gifted a period of incarceration in a secure hospital. However, the victim will never breathe.
Kelly Jones squirms, not visibly. But, you can tell. In his voice change, in the refusal to play their most popular - and, predictably, most trite - offerings. Bands often confuse a rebirth as a method of erasing their now embarrassing offerings. Throwing out teenage poetry at 22. But there is a stone in a stomach refusing to forget it was still written. With glee and neglect of karmic law I report that the ‘fresh’ material, is a sufficient departure as a Thanksgiving episode of Friends is to an episode of Friends.
As I watched, my main priority was attracting the photographer to give her the pint I bought. Anyway, my companion remarked, “I know what this is. It’s like a gig in Hollyoaks.” It made sense to emit such a self-important statement in a self-important manner, in an atmosphere that pretended relevance. We had spent the previous five minutes trading tsunami jokes.
And so, this review is complete in a manner so pretentious and expectant as the Stereophonics hypothesise. Kelly Jones expects his music to be bought. Fuck right off chap. By the way, this article has probably been heavily edited, which lends itself to the banality that is left over. ‘Phonics anyone? My round. One more of the same.
Me Read Good
Books I'm reading at the moment (and how I gotted them coz ya gotsta have the backstory, momma)
The Live Of John Lennon - Albert Goldman
Because I have this fucking annoying habit of reading a book, putting one down and picking up another, only to find the original under a couch/in a seal's intestine/siezed by narcs a few months later, it is taking me twenty billion years to fucking finish this amazing. Bearing in mind, I have virtually no interest in JL, I love this book so much. It is a true work of journalism. Jenna gave it to me one day in my apartment in Boston, pouring praise on its pages. It's by my bed beside my dream dictionary (very 90s), and I'm nearly finished. Rock.
Girlfriend In A Coma - Douglas Coupland
Finished this a couple of weeks ago. I love DC (Generation X fabulosoness), and I finished reading it on the way into town on the bus one day. ItThen I met Sarah and gave it to her. It's about the end of the world, and as always with Coupland, how we're all a bunch of losers. The descriptions are amazing though, really stealable. When I gave it to Sarah she said "I've met him", and I couldn't swea at her too loudly because Mercury Rev were sitting beside us. Zing.
The Rum Diary - Hunter S Thompson
Obviously one of my favourite writers and journos of ALL time. This is 'fiction', but not really, about his time working on a paper in San Juan. Not as mental as the usual Hunter stuff, but cool all the same. I started reading it on the plane home from Brussels.
A Joseph Roth book Niamh gave me before I went to Boston. I started reading it there, but once again, my put one down, pick one up disease has got me.
OTHER STUFF I'M READING TODAY
Jenna's final Manoff Paper - 'do you have jesus in your heart'
My shit features for college
http://galdwell.com
the Sarah Cox interview in the Guardian
Listening - Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine - The Killers
Peace
Una
The Live Of John Lennon - Albert Goldman
Because I have this fucking annoying habit of reading a book, putting one down and picking up another, only to find the original under a couch/in a seal's intestine/siezed by narcs a few months later, it is taking me twenty billion years to fucking finish this amazing. Bearing in mind, I have virtually no interest in JL, I love this book so much. It is a true work of journalism. Jenna gave it to me one day in my apartment in Boston, pouring praise on its pages. It's by my bed beside my dream dictionary (very 90s), and I'm nearly finished. Rock.
Girlfriend In A Coma - Douglas Coupland
Finished this a couple of weeks ago. I love DC (Generation X fabulosoness), and I finished reading it on the way into town on the bus one day. ItThen I met Sarah and gave it to her. It's about the end of the world, and as always with Coupland, how we're all a bunch of losers. The descriptions are amazing though, really stealable. When I gave it to Sarah she said "I've met him", and I couldn't swea at her too loudly because Mercury Rev were sitting beside us. Zing.
The Rum Diary - Hunter S Thompson
Obviously one of my favourite writers and journos of ALL time. This is 'fiction', but not really, about his time working on a paper in San Juan. Not as mental as the usual Hunter stuff, but cool all the same. I started reading it on the plane home from Brussels.
A Joseph Roth book Niamh gave me before I went to Boston. I started reading it there, but once again, my put one down, pick one up disease has got me.
OTHER STUFF I'M READING TODAY
Jenna's final Manoff Paper - 'do you have jesus in your heart'
My shit features for college
http://galdwell.com
the Sarah Cox interview in the Guardian
Listening - Jenny Was A Friend Of Mine - The Killers
Peace
Una
Stereophonics, Brussels and overdrafts
Listening - Song Cry - Jay Z
Last Saturday night (as in a week ago), off Lili and I popped to a 'secret' (obviously not very) Stereophonics gig. Hmm. My last memories of the Phonics was waiting backstage with Sarah and Jenny when the JJs supported them in the Point. That night, the fuckers (phonics) played for two and a half hours. Lord, save us. So, I wasn't particularily enthusiastic about this, but Lili wanted to take photos, PLUS Sarah, Jenny, Corina, Anto and Adrian would be there.
So fun, drinking Corona (too much) At Lili's, then pints in Whelans. Adrian said the show reminded him of a gig in Hollyoaks. Thats about right. But rockier. No more haaaandbaaags and glaaadraaaags. ugh.
Then to Jenny's apartment (sorry for puking in your bin, dude).
Listening - Pancho Villa - Sun Kil Moon
A new day a'dawned and on to Brussels for an EU journo summit. I know, confusing. It mainly involved
- boardroom talks with our Welsh 'group leader'
- Elaine slagging our SLovenian welcome chick's name (Tsveti)
- Hotel carnage and tolerant staff
- arguing with MEP Mary Lou 'Big Mac' MacDonald
- Hoegarden
- A club called 'rock classic' that stayed open til 6am
- spotting Charlie McCreevey in a cheap pizzeria.
God bless the EU
Listening - What The World Is Waiting For - Stone Roses
On return, my loan account is eating all of my money. I hate banks SO much. Am concocting a revenge plan at this very moment.
Peace
Last Saturday night (as in a week ago), off Lili and I popped to a 'secret' (obviously not very) Stereophonics gig. Hmm. My last memories of the Phonics was waiting backstage with Sarah and Jenny when the JJs supported them in the Point. That night, the fuckers (phonics) played for two and a half hours. Lord, save us. So, I wasn't particularily enthusiastic about this, but Lili wanted to take photos, PLUS Sarah, Jenny, Corina, Anto and Adrian would be there.
So fun, drinking Corona (too much) At Lili's, then pints in Whelans. Adrian said the show reminded him of a gig in Hollyoaks. Thats about right. But rockier. No more haaaandbaaags and glaaadraaaags. ugh.
Then to Jenny's apartment (sorry for puking in your bin, dude).
Listening - Pancho Villa - Sun Kil Moon
A new day a'dawned and on to Brussels for an EU journo summit. I know, confusing. It mainly involved
- boardroom talks with our Welsh 'group leader'
- Elaine slagging our SLovenian welcome chick's name (Tsveti)
- Hotel carnage and tolerant staff
- arguing with MEP Mary Lou 'Big Mac' MacDonald
- Hoegarden
- A club called 'rock classic' that stayed open til 6am
- spotting Charlie McCreevey in a cheap pizzeria.
God bless the EU
Listening - What The World Is Waiting For - Stone Roses
On return, my loan account is eating all of my money. I hate banks SO much. Am concocting a revenge plan at this very moment.
Peace
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