the prisoner of zen

Sheesh. I just received another guest list invitation for an event at the Bowery Poetry Club between Bleecker and Houston Street, NYC. Sadly frustrating when the primary consideration is not whether I can afford the subway ticket but whether they might grant me a visa.

My passport, even, has long expired.

It is my cross to bear that I was born on a more remote - though scarcely smaller - island. Where the winds blow ill and hard. An island creaking under the weight of a snivelling, shortbread making civil service in those 200 years since the Highland Clearances.

I missed the boat. I harvest the scars.

If any Fools are listening in, I am still awaiting a harder copy, though truth be told am in no position to contest the higher ground; negligent and corrupt, I have abseiled my bank account only to squander those remaining coins on counterfeit tobacco and Chilean wines. I sit surrounded by unmailed packages.

I have a weakness especially for Chilean wines.

Hold the sea bass. Or maybe not; I am ensnared in autumn and all out of teeth.

The rains are always just around the next corner, and there is no bomb in Mumbai.

I am unmoved by poetry. Poetry is for assholes. Or rum Canadians walking hammers on rollerskates. I cannot decide. I walked a dog habitually a long time ago. It strained at the leash and I discovered cats; a cruel and dysfunctional punishment with much to recommend it. Connoisseurs of passive smoking and displaced aggression. All claw and stiffened fur.

So. I am no mood to bandy words.

I am knock-kneed and dishevelled, gladly immune to ill-considered thwarts.

I might merely resurrect what has gone before without embellishment or fear of disgrace. And wish all my siblings well.

Charity ? She was a justifiable f@ckin' lay.

illustration by ib.

▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: MORE NOISE PLEASE from "Prison" LP (Sub Pop) 1992 (US)
▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: NO NO MAN (PART I) from "Prison" LP (Sub Pop) 1992 (US)

happy monday

A madchester swan song. Sewn out of a pig's ear.

Produced by Chris Frantz and Tina Weymouth.

▼ HAPPY MONDAYS: STINKIN' THINKIN' from "Yes, Please!" LP (Factory) 1992 (UK)

albert with an 'e'

Albert Speer ; before and after an 'e'.
photographs by david lees, 1970.

ec•sta•sy |ˌɛkstəsi|
noun ( pl. -sies)
1 an overwhelming feeling of great happiness or joyful excitement : there was a look of ecstasy on his face | they went into ecstasies over the view. See note at rapture .
2 chiefly archaic an emotional or religious frenzy or trancelike state, originally one involving an experience of mystic self-transcendence.
3 ( Ecstasy) an illegal amphetamine-based synthetic drug with euphoric and hallucinatory effects, originally promoted as an adjunct to psychotherapy. (abbr.: MDMA) .

ORIGIN late Middle English (sense 2 ): from Old French extasie, via late Latin from Greek ekstasis ‘standing outside oneself,’ based on ek- ‘out’ + histanai ‘to place.’

Had only they been able to introduce some MDMA into der Führer's tea... we all might have been able to make sense of his vegetarianism.

"Now they know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall..."

Apologies to anyone arriving here seeking out the Shamen. Think on it as a strictly limited edition; hardly fair, but no more than one might legitimately expect. We live in a constantly changing paradigm...

"if you can see I'm not advertising..."

now that's what i call product placement!, vol. ix

Like Cricketclaps, I can't seem to shake the cold. I managed to briefly rid myself of one horrible viral infection at the very beginning of the year, only to succumb to yet another mutation.

This Co-Codamol shit seems to help. The Codeine in it is clearly the active ingredient, but of course the bastards lace it with Paracetamol in order that one doesn't "abuse" it. Paracetamol wreaks havoc on the liver. I detest it. In Holland in the early nineties, any idiot could purchase an over the counter syrup which was heavy on the codeine with none of that vital organ wasting crap. Such pharmaceutical liberalism is a good indicator of any civilized bureaucracy, I feel.

If this shit keeps on happening, I may well have to elbow my way into the waiting lists of the elderly and vulnerable queuing up for their annual flu jabs. That, or look forward to premature chronic liver failure.

I really do wish the imbeciles would desist from publicly expectorating in our apartment block's lifts. They would do better to read Bill Burroughs and brush up on their manners in addition to exhibiting a semblance of personal hygiene. And if you're still incapable of grasping the rudiments of airborne infection ?

Just gaze at your shoes and kindly refrain from spitting.

▼ CODEINE: BARELY REAL from "Barely Real" 7" EP (Sub Pop) 1993 (US)

no, not root damage

Recorded sometime between January 13th-20th, 1991 in Stockton, California.

Steve Malkmus: guitar, vocals; Scott Kannberg: guitar, vocals; Gary Young: drums; Bob Nastanovich: percussion; Mark Ibold: bass.

Produced by Pavement.

The dishevelled Gary Young was renowned for making gifts of cabbage and other assorted vegetables to fans in a state of profound inebriation. When I was introduced to him at a venue in Belgium, 1992 - where Pavement were supporting Sonic Youth on their international "Dirty" tour - he handed me a box of spent matches.

Maybe he thought I was intent on razing the hall to the ground. Well. The firebug in me has shrivelled and withered with age.

Then again, perhaps he was just encouraging me to give up smoking.

▼ PAVEMENT: ZURICH IS STAINED from "Slanted And Enchanted" LP (Matador / Big Cat) 1992 (US)

PURCHASE SLANTED & ENCHANTED: LUXE & REDUXE

sand

photograph by ken heyman.

A huge vote of thanks to Wim for responding to my plea regarding any info on Dutch group, Alabama Kids, a band whose sonic narratives I was fleetingly exposed to while living in Holland in 1992/3.

I should remember more, but - sadly - I don't.

"Schemer operated out of Schagen and was one of the labels from a distribution company called Semaphore, now long defunct."

Written by D. Thung. Recorded live at the Slash Club, Berlin on 26th March, 1992.

▼ ALABAMA KIDS: SAND from "The Lid" EP (Schemer) 1992 (NL)

OUT OF PRINT

ghosts: hi-tungsten filament

a ghost in the field of nephallim ? no. it's a charcoal berner.

Begg and MacDonald. Chancers. Soap-dodgers. Ghosts of the Rolling Stones ? Or gibbering in the drool of Jack Daniels and pulling on a neck of Wild Turkey. Dust.

▼ THE GHOSTS: HI-TUNGSTEN FILAMENT from "Hitler's Watercolours: 56 Gower Street (1989-1993)" Teac Demos (Maryjane) 1993 (UK)

GHOSTS: THE FABLED LOST ALBUM (MARYJANE)

a drunk embrace

detail from "a drunk embrace".
illustration by ib, 1992.

It struck me a good while back - I can't remember precisely when - that I've yet to feature anything by Tom Waits. That in itself could be deemed unforgivable.

I intend to remedy that right fucking here and now. Especially in light of those references to adenoidal mules and Lee Marvin a post back.

Written by Tom with a little help from Kathleen Brennan. Produced by Joe Marquez.

I may even have been listening to this the night I splashed out some ink for the above illustration. I do recall with a certain fuzzy intimacy that I was drunk as a skunk. The first song is as fittingly maudlin as anything Waits had done previously, and really only works if the listener has walked into a door.

It's a bit like the ink sketch itself. I think I'd been flicking through a magazine on contemporary photography at the time, so it really only works on the level that it was incredibly quick to knock off. The marks are interesting but I can't claim credit for the pose.

Sometimes I like it, and other times I think it's shit.

This morning when I logged in to remind myself on what I'd posted last night it was the latter. Blame it on the cold virus, not Cain.

▼ TOM WAITS: LITTLE RAIN (FOR CLYDE) from "Bone Machine" LP (Island) 1992 (US)

▼ TOM WAITS: IN THE COLOSSEUM from "Bone Machine" LP (Island) 1992 (US)

BUY BONE MACHINE

steven jesse bernstein: this clouded heart

▼ JACOB MILLS PRESENTS STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN 1950 - 1991

A video first on SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS. Created by
Jacob Mills. From the album "Prison", 1992 on Sub Pop Records.

Caution: viewer discretion advised.

steven jesse bernstein: postcard from the edge

a los angeles flop-house during the Great Depression, 1938.
photographer uncredited. looks fine to me.

More from long-term Seattle resident and 'underground' writer, L.A. born, Steven Jesse Bernstein. I must confess, I am constantly saddened by his suicide and the ferocity of it whenever I play this album. His self-contempt seems so utterly groundless.

From Wiki:

"The concept for the Bernstein album Prison was for Jesse to do a raw, live performance at Monroe, Washington State Penitentiary Special Offenders unit in 1991. Jesse went with his manager Barbara Buckland, Bruce Pavitt from Sub Pop Records, Grant Alden (then with Seattle's Rocket Magazine, now known as the co-founder of No Depression Magazine), photographer Arthur S. Aubry, and various tech people. None of the session except for the photos taken by Aubry was usable. SubPop later contracted Steve Fisk to finish the project. The album was intended to be produced along the same lines as Johnny Cash's At Folsom Prison, but Fisk later decided to score the recordings with jazz and ambient music. The album was only partially completed when Bernstein committed suicide by stabbing himself in the throat three times with a knife. He was 40 years old when he died - about a month and a half before his 41st birthday."



postcard of downtown seattle, 1912.
"nightlife at 2nd ave looking north".

I would be especially interested to hear from anybody who knew Bernstein personally, or who witnessed his performance at Monroe Penitentiary.

Emerald City. Are we talking 'Oz' ?

▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: MORE NOISE PLEASE from "Prison" CD (Sub Pop) 1992 (US)
▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: NO NO MAN (PART 2) from "Prison" CD (Sub Pop) 1992 (US)

UNLOCK IT ON CD, TWICE

stop press: radiohead

astronomer extraordinaire, sir patrick moore.

Tonight is a minor cause for celebration for many Glaswegian citizens, namely Radiohead's "Gig On The Green". Even my son's mother is hosting a special party in honor of the festivities, given that her new flat's location overlooks the very park hosting this wonderful live event.

There is only one small problem, so far as I am concerned. I am not inordinately fond of this group.

Many hold them if not in awe, certainly in great esteem. For a lot of those persons, Radiohead are the new Pink Floyd. I ask myself why this is the case. If Largactyl is your cup of tea, then it is highly possible you might be predisposed to their unearthly dullness. Yes, their oeuvre is painstakingly produced and crafted. The word dishwater immediately springs to mind. I just can't find it in my heart to like them, and in the words of my Californian dwelling friend, Jon - with regards Big Star - I've tried.

So be it. I was seriously thinking of posting at least one track from this hugely popular band, but in the end I decided it would be a completely empty gesture. An upright finger is infinitely more my style.

And so, in the immortal - if not altogether hilarious - words of Monty Python's Flying Circus : "and now for something completely different".

Me, I'd rather watch the Sky At Night.

▼ ANOUAR BRAHEM (WITH JAN GARBAREK ; SHAUKAT HUSSEIN): JORON from "Madar" CD (ECM) 1992 (Tunisia)

ORDER UP SOME OUD

teenage fanclub

school's out.

It's Friday. The weekend looms large. And here in Scotland, school's out for the summer holidays. Hooray ! So here's two from Glasgow's finest.

Listen out for the twisted Big Staresque guitar solo that closes "The Concept", with echoes too of The Beatles' "All You Need Is Love". Beautiful. This is for Art Decade's Big B, who seems to have slipped off the face of the planet recently. Where are you, dude ?

If you don't already own this album, I would seriously consider rectifying that sad situation.

▼ TEENAGE FANCLUB: THE CONCEPT from "Bandwagonesque" LP/CD (Creation) 1992 (UK)

▼ TEENAGE FANCLUB: STAR SIGN from "Bandwagonesque" LP/CD (Creation) 1992 (UK)

BUY IT

steven "jesse" bernstein

THERE'S GONNA BE A BORSTAL BREAKOUT...



Steven "Jesse" Bernstein: December 4, 1950 – October 22, 1991.

L.A. born homeboy and Seattle resident, Steven Jesse Bernstein, was a poet who literally put his skin on the line and turned an anglepoise torch on his eviscerated soul. There was nothing heroic in his demise, but a good deal to be admired in his tenacity to hold onto life so long. Unlike Charles Bukowski, there was no happy financial pay-off to ultimately facilitate social rehabilitation. His self disgust was tangibly carniverous, and therein lies the rub.

No reluctantly resigned self-depracating black streak of humour to enlighten Monday morning's hungover slumber.

The rip of the following tracks I originally "found" on the now defunct Post-Punk Junk. Bret now curates a spot on Egg City Radio.

Prior to stumbling on it, I had "Prison" - appropriately released on April Fool's Day - on a disintegrating C-90 cassette ; a gift from a friend. A pirated confession, crumbling into premature decrepitude with much audio infedelity. And prior to its CD reissue it really mattered little that it was falling apart.

Painful, but essential listening, and harrowingly funny too - compare the laugh on "Face" to Wilson Simonal's from a couple of posts back to have Robert Crumb's snoid well and truly hammered home. Go on, break your face. See the hands on your analogue watch jump like sticks.

I tried like a motherf*@!er to get Kelsey Grammer to sign off this post with a hearty "Good night, Seattle!" but fortunately for everybody he was otherwise engaged.

 
▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: NO NO MAN (PART I) from "Prison" CD (Sub Pop) 1992 (US) 
▼ STEVEN JESSE BERNSTEIN: FACE from "Prison" CD (Sub Pop) 1992 (US)

UNLOCK IT ON CD