luv & piece

A juvenile, and often awry, take on 1960's idealism or liberalism - that's hippies to you and me - and all the better for it, I feel.

If it rankles, you might want to get in touch with your inner child.

'Written' and performed by Eater: Andy Blade; Ian Woodcock; Phil Rowland; and Brian Chevette.

Does Andy Blade unwittingly confuse Enrico Caruso with Benito Mussolini at one point in the lyric ? Your guess is as good as mine.

▼ EATER: LOVE AND PEACE (H-BOMB) from "The Album" LP (The Label) 1977 (UK)

PURCHASE THE COMPLEAT EATER (CHERRY RED/ANAGRAM)

on the road to damascus

Overheard from a ten year old girl at the Primary School which my son attends:

"I hate the jews. They have destroyed my country."

That not enough is done in European schools to educate the young with regard to the Holocaust is regrettable. As a child myself, this was not so much the case. The sectarian indoctrination behind the quote is all the more disturbing considering that this young girl is from Egypt; her parents are economic migrants* and relocated here after her father had an affair with another Egyptian woman, as her mother is fond of confiding in strangers.

* Contrary to popular misconception, the term "economic migrant" is not pejorative but describes:

"Someone who has moved to another country to find work. While much media focus has been on economic migration to the UK, few are aware that there are several million Britons living abroad today, most having migrated for economic betterment; no-one disputes their right to do so."

Postscript:

Further to an e-mail I just received, let me expand: the purpose of this post was not to blur or contradict the sad reality of the current plight of wholly innocent Gazan citizens; the intention was to express my own disconcertion that there is a growing prejudice which seeks to deny the Holocaust as undisputed historical fact. That, to me, is alarming. Let me also add that this same girl has been led by her parents to attest that the Holocaust was a myth. Rest assured, if any child at my son's school were to have voiced a similar opinion with respect to Muslims, the repercussions would be palpable. I would also advise the sender of the aforementioned e-mail to please refer to previous posts on the subject of the situation in Gaza.

In addition, the fact that nobody has commented suggests to me that people are wary of voicing an opinion which, one way or another, might be deemed as objectionable. That is understandable. As many individuals are seemingly crippled by political correctness as children are, undoubtedly, by bombs and contempt.

▼ BIG STAR: HOLOCAUST from "Third: Sister Lovers" (PVC) 1975 (US)

PURCHASE THIRD / SISTER LOVERS

plastic jesus on a naugahyde cross

▼ PRETTY THINGS: SICKLE CLOWNS from "Parachute" LP (Harvest EMI) 1970 (UK)

PURCHASE PARACHUTE

the last picture show

collage by patrick keenan: pilfered from perceptions.delusions.

The Philly in Memphis soul.

Written by Kenny Butler, Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff. Originally recorded by Jerry "The Iceman" Butler; recorded at American Studios, Memphis, Tennessee in January & February 1969.

"The meek shall inherit the earth [wind (and fire)]..."

This is for Matt's friend, Patrick.

▼ ELVIS PRESLEY: ONLY THE STRONG SURVIVE from "From Elvis In Memphis" LP (RCA Victor) 1969 (US)

PURRCHASE ELVIS IN MEMPHIS REMASTERED

free-fall interrupted

Harvest SHVL 774.

One of my favourite albums ever - Rolling Stone's album of 1970 - and the perfect companion piece to the Beatles' own underrated masterpiece, "Abbey Road". Unfortunately, the critical acclaim it gathered never did convert into commercial sales, and as a result this LP has lingered in warehouse recycling bins or dusty store shelves for far too long. As I waxed (pontificated) in a much earlier piece:

"As smokey brown as the Beatles' "Abbey Road" in places, but shimmering and translucent too as the best of Chilton & Bell's Big Star. A perfect pop masterpiece painted from a well rehearsed palette of limited colour, a perfect teenage summer's trip."

Phil May: vocals; Victor Unitt: lead guitar; John Povey: keyboards, sitar, vocals; Wally Allen (aka Waller): bass, guitar, vocals; Skip Alan: drums.
Produced by Norman Smith.
Engineered by Tony Clark.

▼ PRETTY THINGS: THE GOOD MR. SQUARE / SHE WAS TALL, SHE WAS HIGH from "Parachute" LP (Harvest EMI) 1970 (UK)

PURCHASE PARACHUTE

shoulder to the wheel

"The end of our exploring will be to arrive at where we started,
and to know the place for the first time."

TS Eliot
(1888-1965)


"Madame Sosostris, famous clairvoyante,
Had a bad cold, nevertheless
Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe,
With a wicked pack of cards. Here, said she,
Is your card, the drowned Phoenician Sailor,
(Those are pearls that were his eyes. Look!)
Here is Belladonna, The Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card,
Which is blank, is something he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself:
One must be so careful these days."

I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD
from
"The Wasteland"

1922

pissing in the wind

a rant, or just a little necessary agitation ? :

"Somethingis rotten in the state of *@!!... downright fishy even.

Someone has stopped taking their medication, and that someone isn't me.

Well. Let's up the ante a little. Several months back, some chickenshit anoraknoid was all a quiver at the prospect of debate on what exactly constituted file-sharing and whether he actually gave a fuck. Very proud. And then he found himself in the same position as a whole bunch of others - including me - and promptly changed his tune. So much so, he snivelled that he was not in the business of giving away songs "for free" and threatened to "quit" his non-existent job as industry insider. Big tears.

Well. Let me tell you this, cowboy. If you have a problem with me, bring it on. Come on over here and I'll jam my foot right up your motherf@cking ass, you pansy jackass Roy Rogers wannabe.

Got something to say ? No? Well, shut your fuckin' mouth. You'll get some fucking respect right after you earn some.

Oh. I feel a whole lot better getting that shit off my chest."

Of course, it's perfectly plausible I just grabbed hold of the wrong end of the stick. Next stop the sanitorium; assuming they haven't closed it down.

▼ THE CLASH: DENY from "The Clash" LP (CBS) 1977 (UK)

PURCHASE THE CLASH REMASTERED

down on the farm

▼ GRINDERSWITCH: PICKIN' THE BLUES from "Macon Tracks" LP (Capricorn) 1975 (US)

OUT OF PRINT

communiqué #20: more server issues

what the f@ck...

Technical issues, it seems, continue to persist; a myriad plague of "invalid key" errors; incomplete (or non transferring) downloads; and sundry assorted glitches.

I am uncertain whether this is exclusively the fault of MediaFire, which appeared to have sustained a "temporary outage" yesterday. Allegedly, the official line is that those problems have since been resolved, but my own experiences today would seem to indicate otherwise. Apologies, brothers and sisters.

Oh. In addition to all this, you may notice an odd white keyline which has mysteriously appeared in the lower right corner of the pictorial banner above. Two horizontal lines between the 'O' and 'T' of SibLINGSHOT. This would seem to have something to do with "Signatunes"; if you hover a mouse over it you summon up an "Insert current track Signatune" message - something to do with FoxyTunes, I would hazard, but I'm at a loss as to how to toggle the keyline on or off - or even if that is possible. If anybody there has any ideas, I'd welcome your advice.

All very strange and vaguely conspirational. On the other hand, I'm an old fart and much more of a technophobe than you might imagine. I am easily rattled. Better make that "measly". Today I feel tempted to press the "delete blog" button and start over anew.

Fuck it. In the meantime, I've switched back to a previous file hosting service as a temporary measure. You have been warned, in a manner of speaking.

I am beginning to tire even myself with this incessant whingeing.

an eye for an eye

"Pedantic ;

boring; self-centred; lazy; a cheeky self-righteous f@cking bastard"

Just a few choice epithets thrown in my direction over the years. Of course, none of that would sting remotely if there weren't a grain of truth in it. And I have been more than guilty myself of hurling colourful abuse at others; usually in a state of profound inebriation.

Sticks and stones.

At least, though, I have never stooped so low as to propel explosive packed rockets through the windows of my perceived enemies. Or opened fire on my neighbour's children with an IWI Galil as they exit their home on route for school. This much is inarguable. On a more prosaic level, if somebody were to beat my dog - assuming I cared to own one - I would not feel compelled to dispatch their own with a blow to the head by way of retaliation.

Perhaps that's just it. I am a cheeky self-righteous f@cking bastard, after all.

Written by Martin Bramah and Mark E. Smith. Produced by Bob Sargeant.

If this song were my child, he'd be thirty years old. Older than Pavement's first.

illustration (detail) by piffard: "signors of the night", "pearson's magazine", 1898.

▼ THE FALL: TWO STEPS BACK from "Live At The Witch Trials" LP (Step Forward) 1979 (UK)

PURCHASE LIVE AT THE WITCH TRIALS (2 x CD)

interlude: bull by the horns

Sandy Bull:
January 1st, 1941 - April 11th, 2001.

After hearing New Yorker, Sandy Bull for the first time over on Art Decade in April last year, I decided to use his unique take on exploratory fusion to illustrate one of the first ever posts here on SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS.

The following cut, from Sandy's second LP release for Vanguard in 1964 wings it's way directly from Any Major Dude With Half A Heart, who was good enough to bestow "A Major Dude Award" on this blog in the countdown to 2009.

Thanks, dude. Chuck Berry has seldom sounded so good.

Even when laid straight down the line by Charles Edward Anderson.

Sandy Bull: acoustic and electric guitar; banjo; oud; bass.
Billy Higgins: drums.
Produced by Sandy Bull and Maynard Solomon.

▼ SANDY BULL: MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE from "Inventions" LP (Vanguard) 1964 (US)

PURCHASE SANDY BULL @ CD UNIVERSE

communiqué #19: server issues

"mother of mercy! is this the end of Rico ?"

MediaFire, this blog's usual server, was down for maintenance for a good part of yesterday. As you may have noticed, normal service has not as yet been resumed; although technical issues did appear to have been resolved earlier this morning GMT.

Unfortunately, I am currently unable to login to my account, and existing files are currently inaccessable for mediaplayer usage or direct download. The worse case scenario is that my account has been deleted, inadvertantly or otherwise.

In the meantime, I will shortly post an interlude independent of the aforementioned service.

teddybears and polydactyls

Polydactyly:

a six finger guitar thing.
theodore roosevelt "hound dog" taylor: april 12th, 1915 - december 17th, 1975.

pol•y•dac•ty•ly |ˈpɒlɪˌdaktɪli|
noun
a condition in which a person or animal has more than five fingers or toes on one, or on each, hand or foot.
DERIVATIVES
pol•y•dac•tyl adjective & noun

ORIGIN late 19th cent.: from Greek poludaktulos (from polu- ‘many’ + daktulos ‘finger’ ) + -y 3 .

Much thanks to Roy Belmont for switching me on to this in the first place.

From Wiki:

"As well as being Taylor's debut album, Hound Dog Taylor and the HouseRockers was the first release on the Alligator label. The label was founded by Bruce Iglauer for the specific purpose of releasing an album of Taylor's music after he had been unable to persuade Bob Koester, then his boss at Delmark, to record Taylor."

Theodore Roosevelt "Hound Dog" Taylor: vocals; slide guitar;
Brewer Phillips: guitar; Ted Harvey: drums.

▼ HOUND DOG TAYLOR & THE HOUSEROCKERS: GIVE ME BACK MY WIG from "Hound Dog Taylor And The Houserockers" LP (Alligator) 1971 (US)

PURCHASE HOUND DOG TAYLOR @ ALLIGATOR RECORDS
KENO'S HOUND DOG TAYLOR WEB SITE

our friends electric

Who's gonna make toast when the power runs out ?

In the meantime, let's all hope the judge and jury aren't out to lunch.

Given the widespread magnitude of wrongful and overturned convictions given media coverage here in the UK - a country which abolished the death penalty in 1965 - there is surely sufficient evidence by now to persuade even the keenest advocate of "a life for a life" to exhibit restraint. Often, I am infuriated at the leniency of custodial sentencing and the obvious disparity from case to case. My concern does not spring necessarily from personal moral considerations or religious conviction; I am simply wary of mob rule, and the very real possibility for the miscarriage of justice in the light of incontrovertible facts.

Judge ib rests his case.

Rough Leg.

From a History of Capital Punishment:

"The last executions in Britain were of two men on 13 August 1964. Peter Anthony Allen, aged 21, was hanged in Walton gaol, Liverpool and Gwynne Owen Evans, aged 24, was hanged in Strangeways, Manchester. They were both convicted of the murder of John Alan West, while robbing him in his house on 7 April 1964."

Illustration by Edd Cartier.
Don Evan's "The Summons", "Unknown Fantasy Fiction" comic, 1939-1943: 39 issues.

SEE EXECUTED TODAY @ POETRY IS FOR ASSHOLES

a queda

on the beach:
fishing boats in Gaza, 1948. ever the tourist hot spot.

Today I unfurled my living room blinds entirely for the first time in weeks. Actually, I went so far as to remove one completely. I have assumed the pallor of a catfish basking blind in the filth of a blighted riverbed.

This is unusual because normally I like to let
as much sun stream in as possible.

Then again, there has been a surfeit of natural light of late. Makes me aware of how much I yearn to sweat it out on a beach somewhere, even if it means blistering like a rasher of thinly sliced bacon.



Anywhere right now but the Gaza Strip.

This instrumental - written by Tom Jobim and stolen from Loronix - has absolutely no connection whatsoever to Chemical Allie (sun factor x) or Al-Qaeda.

▼ ANTONIO CARLOS JOBIM E ORQUESTRA: A QUEDA from "Garôta De Ipanema: Trilha Sonora Original Do Filme" LP (Philips) 1967 (Brazil)

complimentary: spitting feathers

King K4089.

Spitting feathers. In between wads of hardened yellow phlegm, that is. This morning I had to stop at the side of the road and cough into a pile of dead leaves. Like Johnny Pneumonic. Without a car for cover, one's antisocial behaviour is alarmingly exposed.

pneu•mo•nia |njuːˌməʊnɪə|
noun
lung inflammation caused by bacterial or viral infection, in which the air sacs fill with pus and may become solid. Inflammation may affect both lungs (double pneumonia), one lung (single pneumonia), or only certain lobes (lobar pneumonia).

DERIVATIVES
pneumon•ic |njuːˌmɒnɪk| adjective

ORIGIN early 17th cent.: via Latin from Greek, from pneumōn ‘lung.’

From the promotional label (because I'm such a lazy bastard):

"Charlie Feathers was encouraged by his friends and family to record because of his different style of singing. At the age of 21, in 1954, he made his first professional appearance in Florence, Alabama. Beside being co-writer on these two sides, Charlie has also written some fine songs, including the hit "I forgot to Remember to Forget". Charlie is married and has two children; a boy and a girl."

Written by Feathers, Chastain and Huffman. And famously covered by Lux Interior and Poison Ivy.

Charlie Feathers was born in Holly Springs, Mississippi in 1932. He died in 1998.

▼ CHARLIE FEATHERS: CAN'T HARDLY STAND IT from "Everybody's Loving My Baby b/w Can't Hardly Stand It" Promo 45 (King) 1956 (US)

OUT OF PRINT

C-30; C-60; C-90...

Managed by Malcolm McLaren, and fronted by a fourteen year-old Anabella Lwin, Bow Wow Wow was essentially the great rhythm section behind the original Adam + The Ants; drum and bass with a pan African slant. A distant precursor to the controversial nature of blogging and the internet, this piratical celebration of "home-taping" caused considerable consternation and bankrolled outrage within the rank and file of the BPI - British Phonographic Industry - which led to it being effectively black-listed on the UK chart. Once again, too, EMI unwittingly found themselves at the centre of McLaren's machinations.

Anabella Lwin: vocals; Matthew Ashman: guitar;
Leigh Gorman: bass; Dave Barborossa: drums and percussion.

▼ BOW WOW WOW: C-30; C-60; C-90; GO! from "C-30; C-60; C-90; Go! b/w Sun, Sea And Piracy" 45 + Cassette (EMI) 1980 (UK)

PURCHASE I WANT CANDY

sibling whispers #20: bocca di lupo

in the maw of the wolf.

Well. You might want to check out Bocca Di Lupo, home to The Wolfmen; a pack animal born of Marco Pirroni and Chris Constantinou in 2005 after decades of flirting with rock n' roll excess and the spoils of the kill on the margins of the wilderness. Their new site officially launches today, and after leaving their pawprint in the comments section to yesterday's post on Ian Hunter and Mott, it would be remiss of me to let the occasion pass by without honorable mention.

Illustration by Berni Wrightson, DC's "Weird Mystery" #21, August 1975.

random quote of the week #1

My son has a street racing simulation called "Midnight Cub: Los Angeles". I like the concept of being able to whizz around sprawling neon-lit urban spaces while inflicting massive collateral damage with no actual risk to life or limb. In terms of 21st century escapism, it's on a par with those EC comics of old.

Here is a quote from a particularly snide AI opponent as one's finely tuned vehicle spins out of control and disintegrates in a fusillade of hard-won modifications:

"See that light up ahead ? That's failure beginning to dawn on you, dude."

Life lesson.

the ballad of mott

photograph by robert altman, 1970, san francisco.

After just catching up with the sad news of Dave Dee's demise at age 65 over on How Marvellous - and listening to Mott The Hoople's superb 45, "Saturday's Gigs", there too - I felt compelled to dig out something by Ian Hunter in a similarly less raucous vein. It's a Sunday thing.

The open(ing) cut is written by Verden Allen and Hunter, a reprise of sorts to their 1972 Bowie penned smash, and the second is a group composition with Allen again making his contribution...

Ian Hunter: vocals, piano, guitar; Mick Ralphs: vocals, guitar;
Pete "Overend" Watts; bass guitar, vocals; Dave "Buffin" Griffin: drums, vocals.

▼ MOTT THE HOOPLE: HYMN FOR THE DUDES from "Mott" LP (CBS) 1973 (UK)

▼ MOTT THE HOOPLE: THE BALLAD OF MOTT (26th March, Zürich) from "Mott" LP (CBS) 1973 (UK)

PURCHASE MOTT REMASTERED

"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)

connecticut via sacramento, ca

HOT AIR MAIL:



As mentioned some months back on SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS, one of the highlights of last year was Mammoth Hunter's beautifully packaged 7" on Hot Air Press. Teased mercilessly by Nathan Nothin' regards my not receiving a pin with my own shipped copy, I can now lay that ghost to rest.

Not only was Nate kind enough to email me a digital version of the flip side -
in light of the fact that my ability to listen to vinyl these days is pathetically compromised - but thanks to his selflessness, I now have the above badge permanently pinned to my jacket. The proof is in the scan.

Allegedly, if you are extremely fortunate, there are one or two copies of this staggeringly good 45 still up for grabs. Get online now. Not only does it look great, but it will melt your f@cking ears off into the bargain.

mr. benjamin levesque: guitars;
mr. mark sziabowski: drums.

Recorded 17th August, 2007.
Produced by Justin Pizzoferrate at Bankfield Recording,
Greenfield, Massachusetts.

I notice that Luc Rioual and Hot Air Press have been quiet of late. I hope that situation is promptly remedied in the coming year.

▼ MAMMOTH HUNTER: "NEW TRACK 1 b/w 7"* 45 (Hot Air Press) 2008 (US)
* Clicking on this link will redirect you to Mammoth Hunter's MySpace site.

PREVIOUSLY
MAMMOTH HUNTER @ MYSPACE
HOT AIR PRESS
MAMMOTH HUNTER @ ONE BASE ON AN OVERTHROW

spam again

mo and family. photograph by daniel peebles.

No, not unsolicited electronic mail.

While Lou got busy serenading needles and necking brandy alexanders in royal company with messieurs David Bowie and James Osterburg, Maureen Tucker was struggling just to put food on the table.

In the aftermath of the Velvet Underground's implosion, Mo relocated to Texas and juggled a job at Wal-Mart in between feeding and raising her children and working to find time just to dip her toe back into the stream. The resulting "Playin' Possum" did not materialize until 1981, recorded in her family living room - "between diaper changes" - over an especially strenuous six month period. She played all instruments, painstakingly overdubbing each and every one. As one might expect, the emphasis resided within her own very unique sense of rythym; a Bo Diddley hybrid quite unlike anything else produced by her former bandmates in pursuit of solo status and acclaim, something more honest lurking perhaps only in rural or suburban backwaters with a Norman Petty heart.

pos•sum |ˌpɒsəm|
noun
1 informal an opossum.
2 a tree-dwelling Australasian marsupial that typically has a prehensile tail.
• Four families, esp. Petauridae: many species, including the ringtails.

PHRASES
play possum 1 pretend to be asleep or unconscious when threatened (in imitation of an opossum’s behavior). 2 feign ignorance.

ORIGIN early 17th cent.: shortening of opossum.

If one is searching for a role model, one could do a whole lot worse.

This song can be found on 1989's "Life in Exile After Abdication", a slightly more polished affair featuring contributions by Sonic Youth's Kim Gordon. Guitar is provided by Jed Fair, with additional percussion from Hank Beckmeyer, Kate Messer, Kim Gordon, and M.C. Kostek. A joyous thrash of complaint.

The second selction, "Chase", is altogether more familiar and dangerous, with congas contributed by Kate Messer; cymbal by Jed Fair; drums by Maureen herself; and guitar by Lee Ranaldo and Thurston Moore.

Tell 'em, Mo! I defy anybody not to get a bonafide piebald kick out of this.

This an album to be savoured over and over again in fleeting moments of reckless abandonment.

▼ MAUREEN TUCKER: SPAM AGAIN from "Life In Exile After Abdication" LP (Fifty Skidillion Watt Records) 1989 (US)

▼ MAUREEN TUCKER: CHASE from "Life In Exile After Abdication" LP (Fifty Skidillion Watt Records) 1989 (US)

PURCHASE LIFE IN EXILE AFTER ABDICATION

benediction

photograph by robert mapplethorpe, 1978.

Written by Ivan Kral and Patti Smith. Produced by Todd Rundgren, who also played bass on this one song from 1979's "Wave", with photographs by Robert Mapplethorpe.

benediction |ˈbɛnɪˌdɪkʃ(ə)n|
noun
the utterance or bestowing of a blessing, esp. at the end of a religious service.
• ( Benediction) a service in which the congregation is blessed with the Blessed Sacrament, held mainly in the Roman Catholic Church.
• devout or formal invocation of blessedness : her arms outstretched in benediction. • the state of being blessed : he eventually wins benediction.

ORIGIN late Middle English : via Old French from Latin benedictio(n-), from from benedicere ‘wish well, bless, from ’bene ‘well’ + dicere ‘say'.

If you feel unsettled by any scent of pomposity - or marginalized by the religious content - you would be advised to check out the Feelies' cover which originally featured on a flexi for 'Bob' magazine in 1988, and subsequently on a promotional 12". No burnt offerings on that one, just a string jangling distillation and pop.

▼ PATTI SMITH GROUP: DANCING BAREFOOT from "Wave" LP (Arista) 1979 (US)

PURCHASE WAVE REMASTERED

maybe call mom on the telephone...

ron asheston: july 17th, 1948 - January 1st, 2009.

My son's mother communicated this information to me by text some time last night.

That his body should have lain undiscovered for several days over the new year's period - of alleged celebration - saddens me deeply.

No fun. These days we all wait in for the bells, and toll they do.

lain
past participle of lie 1 .

lie 1 |lʌɪ|
verb ( ly•ing |ˌlʌɪɪŋ|; past lay |leɪ|; past part. lain |leɪn|) [ intrans. ]
1 (of a person or animal) be in or assume a horizontal or resting position on a supporting surface : the man lay face downward on the grass | I had to lie down for two hours because I was groggy | Lily lay back on the pillows and watched him.
• (of a thing) rest flat on a surface : a book lay open on the table.
• (of a dead person) be buried in a particular place.



ron asheton; looking oddly - with keen irrelevance - like gerry rafferty from the cover of "city to city", as painted by scottish artist, john byrne.

stooge |stuːdʒ|
noun
1 derogatory; a person who serves merely to support or assist others, particularly in doing unpleasant work : you fell for that helpless-female act and let her make you a stooge.
• a person who is employed to assume a particular role while keeping their true identity hidden : a police stooge.
2 a performer whose act involves being the butt of a comedian's jokes.

verb [ intrans. ]
1 move around aimlessly; drift or cruise : she stooged around in the bathroom for a while.
2 perform a role that involves being the butt of a comedian's jokes.

ORIGIN early 20th cent.: of unknown origin.

"The Stooges guitarist Ron Asheton has been found dead at his home in Michigan. He was 60.

Police told Ann Arbor News that the musician may have been dead for several days before he was found. Although unconfirmed, initial signs indicate that Asheton died of a heart attack.

Asheton was one of the founding members of the Stooges, along with his brother Scott, bassist Dave Alexander and their charismatic frontman Iggy Pop. With Pop, Asheton helped write songs that would set the template for punk rock, including No Fun and I Wanna Be Your Dog. As befits a band from Ann Arbor, their music distilled the experience of being a bored suburban teen and bottled it as a furious and snarling sonic assault. Their feral take on rock'n'roll, full of feedback and clatter, was the perfect backdrop for Pop's wild stage antics, another big influence for punk performers."

Tim Jonze, The Guardian, Tuesday 6 January 2009 16.12 GMT.

This song, produced by Don Gallucci, was culled from The Stooges' second album and originally released as a 45. Recorded at Elektra Sound Recorders, LA between May 10th and May 24th, 1970.

Ring out.

"C'mon an' lemme hear you tell 'em..."

▼ THE STOOGES: DOWN IN THE STREET from "Fun House" LP (Elektra) 1970 (US)

ANN ARBOR REMINISCENCES BY KIM DIJULIO, VIA POETRY IS FOR ASSHOLES

...and a happy new year!

illustration by ib.

happy new year.

And a special thank you from my son to Nathan Ø for a very appreciated Christmas gift. The route from California through Little Britain is more arduous and frought with peril than one might reasonably expect.

To kick off the new year in fine style - a tad later than I'd intended - here's a monstrous unseasonal freak out from Dashiell Hedayat; with musical accompaniment from Daevid Allen, Pip Pyle, Christian Tritsch, Didier Malherbe and Gilli Smyth. Recorded at Strawberry Studio on may, 1971.

Bang a gong.

▼ DASHIELL HEDAYAT: CIELO DRIVE/17 from "Obsolete" LP (Shandar) 1971

PURCHASE OBSOLETE

a brief word on religion

RT 015: photograph by janette beckman; rigid digits music 1979.

The Catholic Church has a saying:

"Give me a boy until the age of seven, and I will give you the man."

Well. My grandfather was taught by Jesuits, and renounced religion in order to marry my grandmother. His priest was livid.

I grew up in a family of devout agnostics - atheists even - a token Presbyterian enclave, and like my father before me I supported Celtic. Ordinarily, protestants on the west coast of Scotland support Rangers FC. Every New Years' Day there is an old firm derby to further cement the mutual contempt.

One thing. When I was a child of eight or nine, I remember being taken into town to purchase a new school bag. The vogue was for nylon in football colours. Primarily, blue or green. I remember asking for a Rangers grip - just to fit in with my schoolmates, although my school was ostensibly 'mixed' - and I'll never forget the withering look my dad gave me.

Back in those days, Rangers were famous for refusing to field a Catholic. Celtic's most famous manager, by contrast - Jock Stein - was staunchly Presbyterian by upbringing, as was their most celebrated player on the park, Kenny Dalglish. Rumour even had it that Stein had a tattoo of King Billy (of Orange) on his forearm. He went far, although he was never made a fully fledged member of the board; on account of his not being Roman Catholic, of course.

After some prompting, I finally settled on a Scotland International bag. This was a source of some minor embarrassment. Both Rangers and Celtic were respected the world over as league champions. Scotland, on the other hand, were crap.

The only person who objected was my grandfather. A notoriously lapsed Catholic, he detested Celtic with an uncomely vengeance which bordered on the ridiculous.

Things have changed a modicum on the sectarian footballing front. Rangers now routinely field Catholics, as anybody familiar with the politics of the game will surely attest. On the terraces - or stands, rather - the old discriminations continue to fester.

It's still a bag of shite, and I live right in the cancerous heart of it.

I'm thinking of this as I look at newsreel footage from Gaza. Try to remember should you feel your sympathies tilt one way or the other that there are no heroes in white hats in the midst of this bloodshed; neither side offered a referendum, and rest assured that today's orphans have already received an AK-47 as their 'Christmas' gift. Oiled, loaded and ready to spit.

▼ STIFF LITTLE FINGERS: BREAKOUT from "Inflammable Material" LP (Rough Trade) 1979 (UK)

▼ STIFF LITTLE FINGERS: GOTTA GETAWAY from "Nobody's Heroes" LP (Chrysalis) 1980 (UK)

PURCHASE INFLAMMABLE MATERIAL
PURCHASE NOBODY'S HEROES

hospitals

My grandfather went into hospital sometime before Christmas in 1999 as the result of cardiovascular issues. My son was eight months old at the time, and I did not dare take him with me. The surgery wards were - and remain - rife with a virus, MRSA, which establishes itself in open wounds and minor abrasions. The young and old are the most vulnerable. Poor hygiene on the part of nursing staff and visitors is the primary cause of introduction.

My grandfather did not make it back out. He was eighty years old, but looked fifty to sixty in a flattering light.

What initially should have been a routine recuperation was complicated when he contracted this virus. The surgeons began snipping at his feet, and soon a major amputation was the only prognosis.

On one occasion I visited him after first attending the Accident and Emergency unit as the result of a stabbing. My own wound was not serious, and I didn't mention it, but as I sat on the vinyl chair beside his bed I was unable to concentrate on small talk for worry that this insidious and invisible virus was at work under the dressing.

Later on, he was moved to another ward - elevator going down - and when I arrived as per the visiting schedule, a seventy year old patient was attempting to sit up in one of the beds in the row opposite. Late afternoon sunshine not so much poured but trickled through the high Victorian windows. The man was still groggy from the anaesthesia and a nurse hurried to find him his spectacles.

"Mum ?" he said. "Mum?"

He looked down at his missing leg and started to cry.

"Oh, no... Oh, no! "

My grandfather stared at him with seemingly dead eyes. There was compassion there, but you needed to know where to look for it.

"Oh, yes," he said. His jaw set and rigid. His own father was from the Ukraine, and he served as a Polish paratrooper in Arnhem. He had seen this type of thing before.

He turned to me and asked how I was doing. Several other patients rolled on past in wheelchairs on their way to a small zone set aside for inveterate smokers. Not so long ago, but you could still light up a cigarette if you were stubborn enough.

I sometimes feel his ghost close by my elbow when I smoke a cigarette and look out the window at people caught in traffic twenty-two floors below. Bent over and traumatized in the rain and insipid cold. Trailing shopping carts and taking their chances on the street.

I am not especially brave, but I keep on. All around this tiny globe there are people doing the same.

withnoël and i

The last gasp of Christmas present.

In memory of my cherry red stratocaster, which I sold
to pay the rent sometime in 1997.
Never did learn to play it like this, though.


Recorded live, June 18th, 1967.
Recorded live, February 24th, 1969.

i'm a man you don't meet everyday

This is quite possibly my favourite Pogues song, culled certainly from my favourite Pogues' album, a traditional arrangement delivered with stunning clarity and understatement not by Shane MacGowan on this occasion, but by the incredibly beautiful Caitlin O' Riordan. This is forever a New Year's Eve staple in my house.

Beauty, of course, will burn you eventually if you can't let go.

Henry Banagh: fiddle; Dick Cuthell: horns;
Shane MacGowan: vocals; Caitlin O' Riordan: vocals, bass;
Spider Stacey: tin whistle; James Fearnley: accordion;
Andrew Ranken: drums; Philip Chevron: guitar;
Jim Finer: banjo; Tommy Keane: uileann pipes.

Produced by Elvis Costello and Philip Chevron.
Recorded at Elephant Studios, London.

"The Raft of the Medusa" by Théodore Géricault, 1818-19.

▼ THE POGUES: I'M A MAN YOU DON'T MEET EVERYDAY from "Rum, Sodomy & The Lash" LP (Stiff) 1985 (UK)

PURCHASE RUM, SODOMY & THE LASH REMASTERD + BONUS TRACKS

i. begg your pardon ?

TRLS 189.

I am not sure on which label this early Big Youth - Manley Augustus Buchanen - production first appeared; it features prominently on several Trojan compilations chronicling the period 1972-1976, but it definitely predates 1973's "Screaming Target". It very possibly first appeared under the title "Ace 90 Skank" as a 7" on the Mafia, Down Turn label.

Written, I believe, by Manley Buchanen in collaboration with Keith Hudson, and produced by Keith Hudson.

▼ BIG YOUTH: S.90 SKANK from "Everyday Skank (Best of Big Youth: 1972-1977)" LP (Trojan) 1980 (Jamaica)

PURCHASE EVERYDAY SKANK

tales of snow and woe

With backing vocals by Orphan Annie - aka, Annie X-Mas - one may be excused for thinking this in fact none other than the Incredible String Band. Not so.

Born in Dublin as a duo comprising Tim Booth and Ivan Pawle in 1967, the good doctors soon became a fully fledged band with the addition of multi-instrumentalist, Tim Goulding and his girlfriend, Annie, signing - almost inevitably, on the enthusiastic recommendation of friend and mentor, Robin Williamson - with the String Band's manager, Joe Boyd in 1969.

Goulding was to exit after their second album in 1970, taking up residence in a Buddhist monastry, and the band soon splintered and folded under the weight of his absence. Phil Lynott would later acknowledge his debt to Booth and Goulding in 1972's "Tales of a Blue Orphanage"; named after the house owned by Goulding's girlfriend where the original collective practiced and rehearsed.

Tim Booth: vocals, guitar; Ivan Pawle: vocals, bass, keyboards;
Tim Goulding: additional instruments; Orphan Annie: backing vocals.
Produced by Joe Boyd.

▼ DR. STRANGELY STRANGE: FROSTY MORNINGS from "Kip Of The Serenes" LP (Island) 1969 (Eire)

PURCHASE KIP OF THE SERENES REMASTERED
DR. STRANGELY STRANGE REUNION GIG: FEBRUARY 21st, 2009, LONDON

sing-a-long-with-tricky-dickie

RR 1272.

It seems a tad obvious, granted.

Issued on December 20th, 1972, this was the Residents' festive ever self release on Ralph Records. 500 copies in total, deliberately misnumbered with their silk-screened sleeves hand-folded and glued flat before the varnish had the opportunity to dry.

"Santa Dog's a Jesus foetus... has no presence, has no presence in the future."

Side 1: Ivory & The Braineaters - Fire.
Side 2: The College Walkers - Explosion.
Side 3: Delta Nudes - Lightning.
Side 4: Arf & Omega featuring The Singing Lawnchairs - Aircraft Damage.

"Strange titles until you realise the whole thing is designed to look like a gift/greeting card from an insurance company. President Nixon refused his copy, confirmation of his basically evil nature if it was needed."

▼ THE RESIDENTS: FIRE from "Santa Dog" 2 x 45 (Ralph) 1972 (US)

OUT OF PRINT

love is all ib ring...

check out the bleed...

Strictly speaking, this is a Christmas 45 - a good one - and a rehash of a much older post I pulled months ago.

Produced by Joe Gibbs, and featuring the trademark killer drum & bass combination of Sly & Robbie, this 45 crept up the UK charts in February 1978 thanks to the repeated championing of veteran BBC DJ John Peel.

Recorded at Dynamic Sounds in Kingston. I have this still on Lightning Records on 7" somewhere, bought well before it reached the No. 1 spot, but I'd have dearly loved to possess the Jamaican original imprint.

▼ ALTHEA & DONNA: UPTOWN TOP RANKING from "Up Town Top Ranking/Calico Suit" 45 (Gibbs/Trojan) 1977 (Jamaica)

PURCHASE UPTOWN TOP RANKING REISSUED

a christmas card

Yes, folks! Jesus Saves!

But these are desperate times, and desperate times call for drastic measures. With everyone feeling the pinch, the temptation is surely to buckle down and save for that rainy day. But as we know, that rainy day is here, and what the economy needs right now is for all good Christians to get out on the high street and spend this Christmas. God knows, the Good Lord wouldn't have it any other way!

Get drastic with that plastic, and do your bit for America!

God bless you, one and all!







George W. Bush

illustration by ib.
inspired by this true story.

Happy Christmas to readers of SibLINGSHOT ON THE BLEACHERS everywhere.