KID SHIRT

Sunday, March 27, 2005

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If you've never been to Seymour's Family Club, Bristol, then I can guarantee you've never lived: it's like a Working Men's Club run by David Lynch, with a red velour-curtain'd stage and a fairy-light surround. Pop Parker told me that they sometimes film "Teachers" there...

Pop's off touring the Czech Republic, starting today. Good luck, old fellah.

Met some people that I haven't seen for many years (20, in one case, and about 15, in another): how weird's that? Though, after the upteenth person told me "My God, you haven't changed a bit..." I was tempted to snarl, "What, I've always looked old, have I?"

And the Rob Ellis responsible for (yawn) "Music in the Home" or whatever it's called, is not, as we thought, the same Rob Ellis who puts on Dubstep nights in Bristol. I know this because I asked him and his answer was "Uh, what's Dubstep?" No surprises there, then.

I drank a lot and ate sausages.

(And, Loki, Ruari MacTaggart says he'd love to hear from you...you can get in contact with him via his internet radio-station (Charlie Fortune, I think...). But that striped Prisoner-style Mod blazer of yours sounds a complete nightmare.)

Had to flee, though, when the DJ played fucking Goldfrapp.

Bren a total hero as usual, driving us back thru deepest 'n' darkest Arkhamesque Somerset at three in the morning with a sexy Tropicalismo soundtrack and (ulp!) Jeff Beck's spookily intuitive guitar-picking pulse-sync'd w/ the flickering dot-dash rhythm of white-lines and cat's eyes.

3 Comments:

At 1:28 am, Blogger Loki said...

ah the prisoner jacket... well; it was the heady days of 1983, 1984 was approaching and I guess I saw it as a ironic statement on the homogenisation of the populace or else i was a Mod, listened a lot to The Jam (copied Weller's shoes!! Twice!) and dreamed about being old enough to drive Lambrettas around Brighton...

Yeovil was full of Mods around then I remember and they were all over London (my Dad would take me to Carnaby St to buy my Pete Townsend Union Jack blazer...) but almost nowhere else... weird... perhaps there's an odd affinity between the two towns? Must examine.

Anyway, I think it's time to come clean Kek... what is this thing you have with dear PJ and Goldfrapp? Don't tell me it's one of those Gin-soaked crushes that went horribly long...

(seem to remember I had one of those about Ruari's sister Claire and ended up hanging off the windowsill of her bedroom after a party at Grass Royal)

Enough.

 
At 5:56 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

Yeah, brogues were mentioned too.

Now you mention it, there were a heckuva lot of Mods (and Skins) around Yeovil 'round that era. A friend of ours used to hitch up to Wigan for Northern Soul weekenders, which I wasn't into, but I thought it was a cool thing to do.

Crushes on Peej and Goldfrapp (ptui!): nevair! However, a friend of ours did go out w/ Patti....(sorry, I meant Polly) ages ago and dumped her. My wife Chris went to art school with her. I've only met her a couple times...not much to report really except she was an exceedingly dull person.

PJ and Goldfrapp represent a lot of things that I find irritating about modern music, so have become kinda symbolic to me...they're talentless and derivative...and let's be honest (non-PC alert!) if they were blokes they wouldn't be allowed to get away with the third-rate drivel they produce. Actually, I think it's insulting to women in general that this pair of useless old boilers are being held up as post-ironic cutting-edge chick-achievers whereas, in fact, they're just plain lazy. Talk about the empress' new clothing. 'Course, in Peej's case it helps to have U2's management behind you and Courtney Love (another talentless boiler) as yr token 'celebrity' cheerleader.

And did I imagine it or did Circle Brophy once go out with Claire Mac? Don't sue me, Circ!

 
At 7:55 pm, Blogger kek-w said...

(Just put the kids to bed, so brain is slowly coming back on-line)

As tiresome as my Anti-Peej jibes must sometimes be, I feel duty-bound to attack the generally-unchallenged consensus notion that she is actually any good. My 'attacks' on her should be considered as a series of cold-showers designed to shake people out of their media-induced taste torpor.

It's worth considering where this so-called 'consensus' view of Harvey's talent actually comes from (and bear in mind who her handlers, publicists and management crew are...we're not talking small fry amateurs here...there's been a very concerted public campaign (and a lot of money spent) over the last few years to convince people of Harvey's artistic 'worth'...).

It's been v. interesting to see LPs by her get 9/10 in NME.fucking.com (that, if we were to be honest, probably merit a 6) and the NME, as we well know, is a major music portal/entry-point into the UK's college/university community... now, a really cynical person might extrapolate a link between high-scoring reviews and the NME being, on occasions, granted exclusive access to U2. Of course, I don't personally believe for one moment that anything like that goes on in the music business...just the same as I don't believe that the music industry is cynical enough to promote and release certain LPs ('grant-cheque' albums) to coincide with Freshers Week.

The perception of Harvey as a Feminist icon is a result of spin-induced dizziness, surely? Having seen her driving round Halstock in a Range-Rover (ages b4 fame in the form of £%&* &^&%$*&*£!&%% sought her out) - her parents are middle-class 'hippy' farmers who are mates with memebers of the Rolling Stones - I can say without fear of contradiction that she is as much of a 'feminist' as I am. In truth, Avril Lavoigne is probably a far better role-model for young girls.

Harvey's main ally on the 'feminist' front has been Courtney Love, who has/had her own agenda to pursue. Courtney is very quick to pull out a red card and yell 'Sexism!' every time she is criticised by (it has to be admitted, the male-dominated) music press...Courtney & co. are happy to play the PC-card and be feminists when it suits their agenda, and the NME goes along with it 'cause they know she's good for a few column inches. When she gets her kit off, their response is that Courtney is a complicated, ballsy individual (who'll stop giving them 'exclusives' if they criticise her...). But let's not confuse media savvy, a drug problem, intelligence and fierce ambition with feminism, eh? It was in Courtney's interest to round up waifs and strays like Harvey, and ring-fence themselves in as neo-feministas because it then turns their future PR into an "Us Versus Them" game (oppressive music biz blokes vs. incredibly talented rock-chicks: "Nah-nah-nah-na! Can't criticise us 'cause it's sexist...!") Getting name-checked by Love certainly didn't harm Harvey's profile on the US college circuit.

Thirdly, (and there's no nice way to phrase this) Harvey (like Bjork) has been incredibly astute in her choice of boyfriends. She goes out with Nick Cave and, lo!, the (sexist) press start calling her the female Nick Cave. (Mind you, anyone of either gender who writes bad morbid 4th form poetry could be Nick Cave, I 'spose...) More recently, she's been linked with Vincent Gallo so the press start referring to her as "musician/ actress" (after she sleep-walked thru a couple of zero-budget home-movies)...I see she's now headlining one of the nights at the next (Gallo-curated) ATP.

Boy, I could happily slag her off all night...but I won't. I just have to occassionally challenge this false notion that her music is interesting in any way whatsoever. (I've already posted on her tendency to 'recycle' other people's material).

Enough, already.

 

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