Sunday, June 22, 2008
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It's all too easy to become jaded with the state of music but this is the proverbial shot of jolt cola or even mountain dew. As refreshing as it is entertaining, the Razzia hit machine will turn you on. Lang may it's lum reek!! New Hello Saferide album, title TBA on September 24th. Blimey.
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So finally, it's ready for action. Kevin Patrick's So Many Records, So Little Time is a brand new blog that'll have NBT regulars (and anybody else with the bug) burning many hours on 'ternet.
The tracks and the stories provide seamless entertainment that will thrill music nuts to the core. Prepare to discover new gems and be acquainted with old standards that you've perhaps forgotten. Might as well plonk it into your favourites right now.
Keeping and restoring faith in one fell swoop!
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Good to see Mr McKay so we retired to a local pub between screenings. By the time we left there, the heavens had opened and things got a bit damp. Patti Smith: Dream of Life is a documentary which meanders in alternative chronology but on the whole is very good if you dig Patti. I'm sure that there's a double length version someplace and that it was probably difficult to shoehorn into just over 90 minutes. I particularly liked the bits where she went to visit her parents and also when she and Flea shared peeing on the hop stories. Her son's Jackson's likeness to Fred Smith is uncanny. It also features Benjamin Smoke on stage with the PSG group just before he died. Actually I thought he was dead by that time. There was no introduction or appearance by the director or Ms Smith. That sucked. If the film maker isn't up for attending then their film shouldn't be in the programme. Simple as that. So I still don't have the answer to my Geator dilemma but the quest goes on.
From there, it was on through a horrible, drunk strewn Edinburgh which seems to be under construction. The grassmarket is something of a maze to be negotiated. Packs of stag party fuckwits roaming with their pointy faces toward Burke and Hare's strip joint. There was a pertty bad vibe in town and there were little posses of police trying to keep a lid on it. It was the polar opposite of my experience in Stockholm the previous week. And these people could drink the scumhordes from here under the table twice still there was no overbearing nastiness.
So I finally made it to the Liquid Rooms just as The Five Aces were closing their set. It was underattended to the point of Phoenix Nights. The Primevals were their usual stonking selves and it seemed to by in a heartbeat. If you can make it to the show in Stereo tonight then do so.
More packs of ugly, pished idiots were negotiated on my way to the station and sitting on the train I was thinking to myself, fuck this for a game of soldiers. Ostensibly I have another couple of films today but I'm not altogether sure that I can get it together to drag myself into town. We'll see, loathe as I am to waste the tickets - the flesh and spirit are competing for the accolade of weakest.
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