VIVA NEW BEAT!
In the immortal words of Wolfgang Zeist, the notorious 17th century Bavarian alchemist and libertine: “Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy!” Yep, it’s been a bonkers week, one way or another: bashed out some articles and reviews for the paper-press, as well as pitches for some TV work, and a bit o’work on the proposal for me (eeeek!) Science-Fantasy novella (working-title: “Hack! Slash! Burn!”….oh, okay, so maybe that was just a lickle joke)…plus somehow also found time to play w/ me kids, eat food, watch Steven Seagal’s “Under Seige”, etc…not to mention travel to London to get completely hammered w/ Dom Zero, Uber-Lord of Chaotic Cocktail Sausages, in a 3-D sub-surface gin & mid-1980s’ horror-porn adventure.
Dom tells me that, as a result of our antics, the steel plate in his skull (received in a speed-related roof-diving incident in Hackney, 1987) is now playing him up (“That damn monkey music…it…it’s drivin’ me crazy!”) and he has had to hire a cadre of vinyl-clad ex-porn actresses dressed as nurses to give him hourly vitamin-B shots in the leg. Boy, us international playboy blogger-types sure know how to have fun. Read it and weep, wage-slaves.
Thought I oughta point out that the new ish of Dazed & Confused mag features a “Brief History of Belgian New Beat” article by yrs-truly. On the newsstands now, o ye salivating hordes of unwashed ne’erdowells.
Special thanks need to go to Gutterbreakz and the rest of the West-Winger/Idiots Guide crowd who, between our blogs, came perilously close to kicking off an official New Beat Revival…(heh, it may still happen!)
Indeed, I have fond memories of huddling conspiratorially at the bar at last years Plasticman/Plastician gig in Bristol w/ Nick and Psychbloke (bloody hell! I still owe you a fiver, mate!) and getting all frothy and excited about obscure benilux twelves from the fag-end of the eighties…I thought I was the only one who dug all that cheesy, low-bpm Eurosploitation nonsense. Cheers to Nick for sorting us out en masse w/ twelves of V/VM’s fabulous New Beat flava’d 12” "I Wanna Fuck Miss Nicky Trax" (If you haven’t got it, then, er, get it!)…and thanks to James for making the damn record in the first place and re-igniting my enthusiasm for New Beat…
That night at the gig kicked off a weird coincidental chain of events that ended w/ me talking on the phone w/ Maurice Engelen (aka Praga Khan and 101 and a zillion other aliases)…Maurice is a total gentleman and dude, and happily shared his anecdotes about the birth of New Beat and those crazy days of ’88-’90…Thanks also to Chrismar Chayell of A Split Second for his time and patience in sorting me out w/ some crucial info…wow, wotta blast: I’m still reelin’ from the buzz and that was weeks ago.
I’m told the piece is being reprinted in tha States in a mag called Featured for the benefit of the US varsity crowd…ha! see how the Kid Shirt Anti-Brand is slowly creeping towards global...nay, trans-temporal domination. Word up, Land o'the Free! Yr liberation is at hand, my brave and loyal American friends...b/gone, tyrants and depots! Start shakin’ in yr boots, Neo-Con knob-heads...we've got yer number (and it's 101..!!!).