dumb that damn tv down, you

In one corner a family from the bayou with an interest in Cajun deep frying and wall-mounted alligators, in the other, a family of self-professed ballet enthusiasts with a passion for the arts. Did you get that, siblings ? ARTS, brothers and sisters, although I suspect the 'T' is optional; certainly it might involve dressing down a rung too far.

Lest we don't grasp just how a trip to a hanging - a picture hanging mind you, not a lynching - might add some civil colour to our charbroiled palette, our pirhouetting patriach is keen to demonstrate. Gesturing at a particularly hellish piece of figurative airbrushing, he invites teenage son #1 to corroborate his sense of elevated wonder from mere close proximity. The distressed youth is so clearly traumatised by repeated exposure to one exhibition after another that his tongue is stilled entirely.

"Look. A woman and an animal. And they're getting along. Even though she's partially nude."

F@ck me. Bestiality with a unicorn. A unicorn with the horn, no less. And as if this is not enough, we are than informed how much our renaissance family has benefitted from its recent excursion to Paris.

Paris, France, naturally. A glimpse around mom's living room is sufficient to tell us they have been to Europe. Every mirror polished surface boasts a scaled down replica of the Eiffel Tower. Most gold-plated as if by Jeff Koons. Or KMart.

No, definitely Jeff Koons. Mom would never stoop to shopping in KMart, although she quite obviously aspires to the late Michael Jackson's taste in frightfully expensive nick nacks and would quite comfortably leave her children in the safekeeping of Neverland while she hits the craft fair in Santa Barbera. And on to a private tasting at the winery.

Now. All this might be moderately funny if fronted by the Griswalds, with Randy Quaid in a minor role as the Cajun inbreed canoing through the swamps with tobacco wasted front teeth. But this is Wife Swap USA, the reality show inspired by its dreadful British counterpart. And as such it is hilarious. Hideously so.

Throw them to the alligators.

▼ THE RESIDENTS: JAMBALAYA (ON THE BAYOU) from "Stars & Hank Forever: The American Composers Series, vol. II" LP (Ralph) 1986 (US)

PREVIOUSLY ON SIBLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS: ME & HANK & FUN ON THE BAYOU

reup: from the gorbals to stonehenge

roger kynard erickson's
all-seeing eye, or some outlandishly fiendish occult plot ?

This song was recorded in Roky's manager's office in Marin County, California during an acoustic solo performance in which the Aliens were notable by their absence.

"from the gargoyles to stone henge
from the sphynx to the pyramids
religious temples praising the devil right
to the devils club as it strikes midnight..."

Hear that first line quoted above ? I'm still not convinced.

Ever since my friend, Gus - an Erickson aficionado - first brought this song to my attention a couple of years after its original release, I have been stone cold certain Roky actually sings "From The Gorbals to Stone Henge"...despite the odds. Even listening to it now, having finally sourced the lyric on the web somewhere in a bid to lay old ghosts to rest, I continue to harbour grave doubts.

Gargoyles just don't do it for me.

▼ ROKY ERICKSON: I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE BEFORE from "Gremlins Have Pictures" LP (Pink Dust) 1986 (US)

hello and hasta la vista and a glasgow kiss

Just this morning after dropping my son off at school I witnessed a fight. That it was immediately preceded by much shouting and hurling of threats is usually enough to convince me that such an event will probably not escalate into serious violence.

It was too public, in addition. Scores of people looked on impatiently to see if anything juicy might materialize out of it. An entertaining scrap of a story to later trade with work colleagues over lunch. I met Rosa coming in the opposite direction and, since she had to queue to withdraw money from a cash dispenser, it provided me with the perfect pretext to stop, look and listen.

The confrontation appeared to be prompted by an incident involving both parties' children. Neither of whom were present by this point. Possibly, those kids had exchanged blows earlier. Or one of their parents had said something out of turn.

This in itself is sometimes enough to ignite a major incident. A couple of months ago a child's father was concussed with a claw-hammer outside his daughter's school. The young man wielding the offending instrument - a parent himself - did not pause in cycling past the playground to reassure himself that serious injury had been done. Vengeance was dispensed. The hoods were up and identities protected.

After a fashion.

Anyway, the exchange of insults this morning reached a more dramatic conclusion than I expected. One woman kneed the other into the street and fell on her with fists and feet. Somebody in the queue for cash behind me laughed. The victorious woman's partner stood above the bloodied party and jabbed his finger at her lying prone in the road. His face was marked with intersecting lines of scar tissue.

Open razors are still very popular in Glasgow, although carpet knives are more frequently the weapons of choice. They can easily be folded away, of course, and are less awkward to attempt to explain away.

I know him and his wife vaguely. To nod to at least. He walks a pit-bull regularly, and his wife sometimes says hello. Despite appearances, neither of them have struck me as being unpleasant in the past. Or best avoided. There are far worse out there. More indiscriminate offenders.

The fracas drew to a close without a blade being drawn. That much was evident, and I dare say some people were disappointed.

There will be repercussions, though. No doubt.

"Tell your man I'm goin' to fuckin' do him an' a'!"

And turning to his wife. "And don't fuckin' get me out my bed for fuckin' pish like that again."

My apologies if I've labored the event. Maybe you too were hoping for a more visceral denouement.

I'd like to say hi to Frankie C. in passing, now back in business and regaling the world with much sober restraint and aplomb. Let's end this with something upbeat.

Written by Randy Bachman; Burton Cummings; Jim Kale; and Garry Peterson. The Guess Who.

▼ BUTTHOLE SURFERS: AMERICAN WOMAN from "Rembrandt Pussyhorse" LP (Touch & Go) 1986 (US)

PURCHASE BUTTHOLE SURFERS DRY GOODS

home on the range: the way it is

bread line after the 1937 louisville flood. photograph by margaret bourke-white.

Forget Tupac Shakur's shameless (as ever) cash-in. This original slice
of FM AOR from 1986 is a lot more beguiling than Virginia born pianist, Bruce Hornsby - one time musician with the Grateful Dead - had any credible right to expect.



welfare line, 1975. photograph from "the new york times".

If you're in any way determined to purchase a copy, go buy this one.
Do your level best to ensure Marion "Suge" Knight doesn't get a dime.

▼ BRUCE HORNSBY & THE RANGE: THE WAY IT IS from "The Way It Is" LP (RCA) 1986 (US)

THE WAY IT IS

i have always been here before

roger kynard erickson's
all-seeing eye, or some outlandishly fiendish occult plot ?

This song was recorded in Roky's manager's office in Marin County, California during an acoustic solo performance in which the Aliens were notable by their absence.

"from the gargoyles to stone henge from the sphynx to the pyramids
religious temples praising the devil right
to the devils club as it strikes midnight..."

Hear that first line quoted above ? I'm still not convinced.

Ever since my friend, Gus - an Erickson aficionado - first brought this song to my attention a couple of years after its original release, I have been stone cold certain Roky actually sings "From The Gorbals to Stone Henge"...despite the odds. Even listening to it now, having finally sourced the lyric on the web somewhere in a bid to lay old ghosts to rest, I continue to harbour grave doubts.

Gargoyles just don't do it for me.

Call me crazy, but I have always been here before.

As for Roky, well; he uncovered more plots than in 'The Da Vinci Code', and I still think he's more sane than those people who rushed out to purchase Dan Brown's doorstop of a book.

▼ ROKY ERICKSON: I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE BEFORE from "Gremlins Have Pictures" LP (Pink Dust) 1986 (US)

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE BEFORE:
THE ROKY ERICKSON ANTHOLOGY

andy warhol: silks for druella

cowboys & indians: john wayne by andy warhol. silk screen, 1986.

I was never a big fan of Marion - let it be said - but at least Andy done good with the Velvet Underground. Credit where credit's due, motherf@ckers.

gabriel yared

voodoo chili.

Superior soundtrack fare from Jean-Jacques Beineix's smash 80's hit starring Jean-Hugues Anglade and the charmingly photogenic Béatrice Dalle. With Cinematography by Jean-François Robin making every image on the screen a potential bedsit poster, this film undoubtably did more for the French tourist industry than a thousand market research campaigns.

Written and performed by Lebanese composer Gabriel Yared. Not so hot until you consider that 37.2°C = 99°F.

▼ GABRIEL YARED: CHILI CON CARNE from "Betty Blue (37°2 Le Matin)" LP (Virgin) 1986 (France)

BETTY BLUE