What a Swell Guy..

Steven Wells 1960-2009

Here’s some sad new Steven Wells of NME fame has died. As a teenage from a quiet corner of a quiet town Swells' writing every Wednesday was like bomb going off . Swells writing was a joy being both politically switched on and slightly foul mouthed, buzzing with ideas and opinions.

I always read his pieces even when it was about bands I didn’t care for; I even liked his work when he slagged off the bands I loved. His writing along with David Quantitck was full of fantastic crazed descriptions prefigures the likes of Charlie Brooker particularly in his easy access to his bile gland. But although his reviews where extreme they were always done with a smile and good joke. There was also a glee and joy in the use of words and the search for more and more arcane ways to describe the particular focus of his scorn.

I think his brand of partisanship is missing in pop music nowadays when everyone seems to like everything. Maybe it’s just us cold war kids who still enjoy some “black and white them and us” opinions. I’m sure the wishy washy likes of Keane and all the “The” bands wouldn’t have lasted two minutes if Swells had turned his torch on them. Oh and what was I thinking I forgot the most important bit he used to make me laugh out loud.

Monkee Business

London lunch time stuff

I Saw Mickey Dolenz just off Bedford square he was dressed for a day at Lords, smart panama, suit flannel trousers; it’s always nice to know these people really exist and no I didn’t mention Metal Mickey.

I’d just been shorn under the sign of the posh frog, all to the tune of Bonkers Dizzie oh and 7 quid plus tip. I was snipped by a taciturn Asian lass, who said nary a word all the way through my trim but then gave me the biggest smile when she’d finished, it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

After that while I munched my lunch in Bedford square some AA students where working on their latest project it’s all wavy sheets of ply and hardboard, here’s me waffling on about last years effort.

After that it was a case of avoiding buying anything in Gosh and a bit of lens envy in the camera shops and then back to work.

Here's the Monkees in rather wonderful clip of girl I new somewhere, the man has got to youtube so you can't imbed them :(

Only the guilty have anything to hide

joan ruddock or is it?
Originally uploaded by bltphoto

Have you had look at how little they have published and in a really cumbersome format too?
Funny how the party that wants to bring ID cards suddenly gets coy about information.

I hate those Mices to Pieces

The wide awake club:

Well that's torn it, a perfect storm of irritants have forced me awake : the mid summer sun, general life nonsense and now the mouse.

The combined pipe work of our flats make a perfect stairwell for mice and presumably there's plenty of food and warm pipes for the blighters to thrive on.

Don't get me wrong we are not overrun, our little friend only appears every few months . Obviously in reality it's a series of mice rather than just one but well it's nicer to think we have a resident Jerry who sleeps in a match box bed and who can carry off whole hams and chicken legs (complete with tiny chefs hats on the legs) rather than the reality of brood of the perishers.

The little blighter just crept into the rubbish sack I'd left next to the door and then made rustling noises that once heard were difficult to ignore and then there was the window that during yesterday seems to have swelled bigger than it's frame and had to be tied shut, so I'm sat here with my patchy broadband listening to not very morning music that I downloaded last night. I quite like it (the Joy formidable) but maybe not a 5.30 am.

Sorry for all this, like listening to other peoples dreams (think on MLK) "I can't sleep" talk is not that gripping. It does look like a lovely day though and our little friend seems to headed off for his kip and now Dusty's singing about Tupelo Honey which is better. Anyway hope your day is starting well it is after all a new day.

Tanks for the memory

Chariot: My new film or more accurately moving picture . Putting aside any obession with rusty russian technology this old T-34 standing on hillside in peak district is strangely imposing. It's hard not be influenced by Ian Hamilton Finlay on this one and his playing off of martial imagery with nature. Enjoy!

Peak of perfection

Back from Yorkshire:Had an excellent time in the company of A & B and of course S.W.A.M!

Some minor revelations: we may have found a contender for Birkinshaw’s (of Map) King of Pies Crown with Hinchcliffe’s coming up on the rails (believe me these things are important).

Stating the obvious award 2009: The Peak district is quite pretty. I know hardly contentious but the sunset on Saturday evening was truly magical “you’d never know you were 5 miles from industrial Barnsley.....”

Larkin’ about: Oh and if you stare out of the train window on a summer’s evening watching the English countryside go by listening to “the lark arising” by Vaughan Williams you are in danger of having a good time. It was ridiculous almost clichéd scene with at least three cricket matches, the pointiest church steeples, ribbons of bobbing daisies and poppies, 2 hot air balloons and a pair of excited children waving at the train (yes, I did wave back).

Blot on the landscape: oh and to the grumpy older couple across the aisle (no it was no problem lifting your case on to the rack no need to thank me and yes we were all in the wrong seats get over it) some of us thought the cooling towers near East midlands airport were one of the highlights of journey and I fear if we “blew the bloody lot of them up” we might not be able to boil a kettle on evening oh and I hope your sarnies didn’t taste as bad as they smelt.

Ronald NO!

690 things to do with 80 Million pounds.

I know life doesn’t work like this but you know for once couldn’t 10% of this huge sum go to those who really need it rather than to some anonymous middle man.