LOU WHITNEY CHANGED MY LIFE by BEN VAUGHN

In the winter of 1981, I was living a life of quiet desperation as a freelance paste-up artist in South Jersey. I was divorced with a five-year-old son and at the wise old age of twenty-five decided I would never have a career as a musician or songwriter. I liked a zillion styles of music and I was writing songs in those styles but most of the people I played music with were convinced that the only way to make it was to choose one genre and adhere to it right down to the appropriate wardrobe and musical gear. I must have believed it too because I ultimately chose to opt out altogether. To say I was discouraged would be an understatement. I wasn't even showing my songs to anybody anymore. In my mind it was over. The dream was dead. Then I met Lou Whitney...

Lou's band the Symptoms were performing in New York at the old Peppermint Lounge on 45th Street, opening for a popular new wave band. I'd driven two hours to catch their show because Lou wanted to meet me. A friend of mine had released a 45 of the Symptoms’ recording of “Double Shot (Of My Baby's Love)” and I cobbled together a picture sleeve for it that Lou really liked. It wasn't much more than a photo of the Viscounts' sax player playing a car transmission instead of a horn but Lou loved it and sent word that I would be on the guest list. Their version of the Swingin' Medallions’ tune sounded great and I had never been on a guest list before so I hopped in my heat-challenged '65 Rambler and made my way up the New Jersey Turnpike.

The place was packed with new wave hipsters. You could feel the electricity. The New York club scene was really happening in the early '80s. After a long wait, the stage lights came on and the most normal band in the world came walking out. They looked like they had just finished working on their cars. There wasn't one single trendy thing about them. These days it's hard to believe how unusual that was but back then it was astounding. Lou kicked off the first song and they were off and running. And run they did.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing. It was a revelation. They played country, blues, rockabilly, swing, garage rock, girl group stuff, surf instrumentals, you name it. And they were smiling! They were (dare I say it?) being themselves.

When I found Lou and introduced myself he shook my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, "Subaru, right?" It took me aback until I realized he was talking about the car transmission on the record sleeve. "Yep," I replied. "I knew it!" he said, and laughed out loud. I told him how much I loved their show and began rattling off my favorite moments until he stopped me and asked if I was a musician. "Actually, I'm more of a songwriter." "Really?" he said. "Send us a tape. We need songs. We're too lazy to write our own. Right, Donnie?" I looked behind him and D. Clinton Thompson nodded in the affirmative. Just as I was leaving Lou handed me a piece of paper with his address scribbled on it: "I'm serious. Send us your stuff." Wow. I had no trouble staying awake on my drive back down the turnpike that night. The next day I put together a cassette of song demos and mailed it to the address in Springfield, MO.

About a week later I got a phone call from Lou. "We just worked up five of your tunes and the audiences love them. Send more!" To say "and the rest is history" is hackneyed for sure but in my case it's true. I had touched the hem of the garment. Lou had anointed me. Everything changed for me after that. Lou told everyone he knew that I was good and because Lou told them they were ready to hear my songs -- which has led to a long career of doing exactly what I want musically. And it all started that night in 1981 when I met Lou Whitney.

Thanks, Lou, and good night. Wherever you are.

Goodbye Louis B. Whitney, So Long!

I think it was 1980 that I first heard The Skeletons. In those days, it was customary to write to an act that floored you and I duly ordered a box of 45s to spread around people that I figured would like them. This was the first time I came into contact with the force of nature that was Lou Whitney. Recipients of these 45s included Lux and Ivy who subsequently name checked the band in ZigZag as a result.

When it came to the point of getting the chance to start a label, the band was the obvious choice. To my mind they should have been bigger than something like The Eagles. A+R people loved them but they didn’t know what to do with something so pure. So somehow, Lou granted me the wish of compiling the singles plus other tracks for “Rockin’ Bones” which was later followed by their debut “proper” album, “In The Flesh”.

In August 1992 I made the pilgrimage to Column One in Springfield, Mo. I clearly recall Randy and Donna dropping me off for the adventure that would entail travelling with them to shows in the Chicago area including a memorable night in DeKalb, Illinois. I stayed with Lou and Kay during those days and enjoyed their wonderful hospitality.

The Heartbreak Hotel in Malmo played host to the Dave Alvin/Scott Kempner/Skeletons ensemble during the Skeledanavia 1992 was like a dream come true. The guys from Uncle Tupelo were there that night also and somewhere I have a tape.

We kept in touch over the years and I always hoped I’d get out to see him again. Never imagining that there would come a day when that wouldn’t be possible. Last time I spoke to Lou was when Mary McBride made a pit stop in Glasgow with the Rt. Hon Joe Terry and she graciously called him.

Then there’s the music that he and the guys made. They should have been a household name. Their chemistry made them utterly unique and that’s why other great artists gravitated toward the buckle on the bible belt.  Listening to Ben Vaughn’s “I’m Gonna Miss Me When I’m Gone” the other day, it was if he was channelling the big guy and it made me plotz.

To tell the truth, I’m finding it difficult to process the fact that he’s taken the final taxi. The music he made with the band and with others will live for all eternity. Lou’s alt-Wrecking Crew was always ready to work up their magic when the need arose.

They broke the mould after this one popped out and we’ll never see his like again. Hey may not have been rich in monetary terms but the guy was a veritable gazillionaire in terms of being a wonderful human being. It was impossible not to love Lou Whitney. Lou inspired everyone that he ever came into contact, being the archetypal gentlemen in every sense of the word.

The big fella never compromised his integrity for one second over the years and it is an utter privilege to have been able to call him my friend.  A world without Lou in it is a daunting prospect. His wisdom and forthright manner gave him a quality that made him a natural leader. He was someone you could believe in and someone you could believe. He made his mark alright.

My condolences to Kay and his immediate family, to his compadres -  Lloyd, Joe, Donnie, Dave, Andy, Scott, Eric, Amy, Ben, Robbie and Syd and everyone else that will miss the hell out of the guy.

RIP - Lou Whitney

Please consider this...

The result was disappointing, not entirely a surprise but still. At the outset I was a staunch no and I remember telling BB Quattro and whoever else that it wouldn’t happen. Then I got to thinking and after the shenanigans of how things are going within this sceptic isle, I decided it was more than worth a shot. Partly down to devilment but I felt a genuine undercurrent that might effect change eventually. Unlikely it would happen in my lifetime but maybe a generation or three down the pike.

Hearing the smug, rent-a-quote pish that's flowing from the “victors” is nauseating. Once I got to grips that this wasn't  about Wee Soapy, and especially not about wanting to disown England or 99% of the people who reside there. Maybe if there had been inclusion of Scots who were located elsewhere, those that might have returned to try and hoist the country up by its bootstraps had a yes vote been successful? Alas we’ll never know but still, there were only 400,000 votes in it, that in itself is hardly a landslide for the fearties.

Broon in particular gives me the collywobbles and he has the most to gain in the long run although I hope that Scottish labour are hobbled enough for people not to look to this shyster. He sold the family silver and as a reborn maggot, he’ll lead the charge – er, not flippin likely but he’s got a fair share of the gullible believing him. I’m hoping that his leading the death rattle will have the desired effect on what’s left of what used to be Labour.

Anyway, there’s no point in raking it over. The damage is done and there’s much limitation to consider. How it all pans out in the next season taking us to May 2015 is potentially alarming. Every figment of the lying, conniving puppets that made up the No corner are entirely guilty of sowing the seeds for something altogether more nasty, those that are working the Camerons of this world.

So it looks like it’ll take longer than was envisioned, ain’t it always the way. I just hope that what happened in George Square and the surrounding area on Friday night will not be symptomatic of the immediate to mid-future. We’ve all been cheated, both sides. The upcoming general election has to be used to even the score, to set the scene for another crack at getting the fuck out of Dodge.

The roof may well have come in by that time, this country – the UK - is bankrupt in a multitude of ways. If you thought pulling together to try and make things work might be impossible, wait ‘til you get a load of what’s in store.

I've hit a wee bit of a snag that means that I'll need to scan the old NBT pages again. Particularly on the early issues. Playing with these scans, I've been reading some of those early attempts at stringing a sentence together, It's not pretty to the point of toe-curling. Maybe a little like starting a band without being able to play. But anyway, I'll just have to suck that up and let my yeah be yeah.

So stick with us. Simon has done a great job. It's good that the process of invigorating this thing is finally underway. I feel that the word "energised" has hit the wall as a casualty of the farce that went down on Thursday. Anyway, let's not go over all that now. You're likely sick to your stomach of it. I know that I am however this time next week I shall be in a far, far better place.

NEW LOOK! WORK IN PROGRESS!!

Hey, mi amigo Simon is helping me revamp this beastie. Actually he's doing all the brain melting stuff so please bear with us. He also has to put up with my plodding so Rome is unlikely to be built in a day. This has been a public service announcement.

Evoking pulp, sparks, roxy music and the soundtrack to carnival of souls re-imagined by tangerine dream. Producer Christian Gabel used to be in Bob Hund and that’s the direction this orbits to a degree. I guess it’s what might be referred to as “minimal”. As opposed to orchestral maybe. But this quibbling never dampens the bigger cinematic picture. I used lower case on those band names back there because the evocation is spiritual rather than sonic.

“I Forgot About Songs” recalls “I Wonder Who Is Like This One”, quiet, understated and all the better for a faulty electrical connection. “The Crawler” made me wonder if Annika ever heard Ivor Cutler. Probably (possibly) but you never know, and why would she have? Anyway, the point I’m struggling to make is that this is prose as opposed to mere song. The dialect of her voice is as much an instrument as any other employed to give this material the form that we can hear. I’m not sure if that explains anything at all but I know what I mean. “Raspberry Lips” is reminiscent of Suicide’s “Surrender” and I plan to test the suitability of a segue for any future dj stint down the road.

Closing opus, “This Body” is like an astral cousin to Lou Reed’s Berlin with Christian G playing the part of Bob Ezrin. There’s a song on here called “Berlin” too but I think that’s just a coincidence. Anyway, the strings are equally as chilling as “Sad Song”, channelling a similar, spare, forlorn oddness.

No-one not nowhere is making music that is as beguiling as this. It provides an outpost in which to get gone from the mundane, far, far away from any flavour of the minute. This latest diary entry indicates that there’s no end in sight to the magic that this girl has been weaving for the best part of a decade now.  Maybe, just maybe, the world will catch on to this extraordinary catalogue that has been spooning my sad little heart over these past years.

Further direct evidence of the lady in question being “good with words” can be found in “Texter” a book of lyrics that has just come out via Teg Publishing. It resembles a bible of sorts with its red edged pages and it contains everything but the contents of på engelska for some reason. It’s mostly in Swedish with the exception of the Hello Saferide lyrics but completists will need to grab a copy anyway. 

Hearing the stream was one thing but I urge you to seek out the physical release. This is a rare occasion when rare high expectations were actually met and raised. That seldom if ever happens. At least not with me.

This is soul music. Maybe not as you know it but that's what Hello Saferide is. On the Razzia imprint where they know about such things.

Order your copy here!

RIP - Charles M. Young

Now that The Ramones are all gone – you know I don’t include Mark(y) – there’s a vacancy to be filled and there are some Spanish youngsters called Pantones that understand what makes that old punk rock ticker skip a beat or three. Their recent “¿Quién Quiere Primavera?” Is mostly in their native lingo but that doesn’t stop it hitting all the spots.

They have a grasp of what makes rock’n’roll radio great. It’s all about the tunes and these kids have those and the chops to deliver these rather tasty numbers with a gusto that suggests that all may not be lost after all. They’re making inroads at home but sooner or later, Spain won’t be able to contain them and they’ll explode worldwide. Maybe via a movie soundtrack or some such vehicle but somehow or other Pantones are just too contagious not to start a pop pandemic.

Imagine The Fastbacks having cut “Bark Like A Dog”, Paty Critter’s voice isn’t a shouty yelp. I think I mentioned before that she sounds like a smoky mix of Joey and Susannah Hoffs via Belinda Carlisle. Their take of “The Sign” by Ace of Base is a riot and it suggests that they could make a killer record in "English" should they ever care to do so.

Last year’s finest seasonal single is included and there’s always the hope that it might appear struck into 7” vinyl where it so rightly belongs. One of these days I’ll get to see them play but for now getting acquainted with their Subterfuge Records releases will have to suffice.

I should really upgrade this damn thing. In addition, it would probably be an idea to check some of these sidebar links too. Trouble is that I spend all day, every day (nearly) staring at a screen and the last thing I want to do at home is stare some more. I've semi-successfully weaned myself off TV and taken to falling asleep on the sofa but that seems like a start in not being ruled by technology.

So we'll see. If I had any patience at all, I'd work all of this out but I don't and I haven't. One of these days though it'll all fall into place. Right?

From the new album "The Fox, The Hunter and Hello Saferide" out September 3rd on Razzia.

Check what happens at 3.44...

Thanks to Nick Vahlberg for the heads up on this...

I’ve been considering making a concerted effort to post stuff here more regularly. The whys and wherefores are irrelevant to a large extent and this is me sort of typing out loud. Maybe it’s part of the process to convince myself that it could happen? Who knows? Last night I burned two hours watching the Indyref debate and  was blazing by the end of it. I’ve grown weary of living in these spoof-like times. Life imitates outlandish parody far too often these days and a refugee from Still Game and another from Yes Minister are wheeled on to attempt to convince us of the advantages of their own particular corners. I don't give a rats chuff who you think won on points, both of them blew it. Pure and simple. This was a storyline that even Armando Iannucci wouldn’t try to pull off. I believe that in the next season Boris Johnson becomes Prime Minister of this sceptic isle and much knockabout fun will ensue. Malcolm Tucker is now a Time Lord. What the heck he worry?

 

Irrespective of what happens on September 18^th, aye or nay – this is what will represent us so help us. I’m inclined toward the affirmative in idealistic terms but my died in the DNA cynicism suggests that we’ve been sold down a mighty long river. My taking a chance on the unknown is an adventure however the bigger picture, for future generations is an altogether different story. The gilt might come off the gingerbread pretty quick but it could all turn out fine, in spite of all concerned. The only sure thing is that it’s a gamble. Noble in theory, likely to be hijacked by devious bastards in reality but perhaps not, I’d genuinely like to be proven wrong on this one but it could be the reason I've been needing to  

Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose like the song says so lets break out that blue and white face paint and get this thing on the road.

From Brother BB Quattro...

At last! A dream come true. Joining 100 years of careers dedicated to crunchy pop'n'roll! Two years ago it would've been a hundred years, right now it's 100+, but who cares! Here it goes:

THE RUBINOOS (USA) 40+
THE SURFIN' LUNGS (UK) 30+
THE YUM YUMS (Norway) 20+
SUZY & LOS QUATTRO (Spain) 10+

Thursday Oct 2nd, EL SOL (Madrid)

Friday Oct 3rd, FOUR SEASONS (Castellón)

Saturday Oct 4th, La2 de APOLO (Barcelona)

Advance tickets for 18€ on sale by the end of the week (stay tuned). This whole thing is a bloody GIFT for any fan of the genre, but it's also a FINANCIAL SUICIDE for everyone involved, so we'd appreciate your presence and sharing all the news about this festival. Such a legendary bill would only happen once in a lifetime, and this deserves a sold-out on each one of the dates.

There will be the chance to buy a 40€ ticket for the 3 shows. We know there's many people who will want to follow this itinerant festival. There will also be the chance to buy a seat on a vehicle that will make the same route as the bands, so if you wanna come over, party your ass off and forget about driving, we are working on this option too.

Not a bad plan for early October, huh?!?

RIP - Dick Wagner

In case you don't know, DW played on this. The show I saw in Glasgow was burned into my noggin for all time as a nipper.

Screeching Weasel IndieGoGo Campaign

RIP - Tommy Ramone (Erdelyi)

The other day, a call came in to my work number about doing an interview for the BBC about the place of politics in music festivals. I wasn’t able to do it but it ended up with Billy Sloan and Vic Galloway doing it. It made me wonder what was news about such a topic? I almost wish I had agreed to do it just to try and find out or at least pose the question.

Personal politics pervade our everyday existence. Party politics and the bullshit that has numbed everyone into not giving a fuck is a different story altogether. And the very fabric of it all is crumbling as I tap away...

Whilst I’m generally griping, the expression of something being “interesting” rips my knitting. Maybe once in a conversation it can slide but in any given situation it’s presented as a pat on the head. A condescending remark dressed up as a statement that is set up to disarm someone that the giver wants to impress. Often someone in “authority”.

So how can it be three weeks since I was in Moss? Originally heading out for the House of Rock sequel that never happened, the advent to flights direct from Edinburgh to Rygge (and vice versa) makes it an easy destination. And besides, I have family there.

Hit the ground running by heading for the ‘slo and a Cafe Mono show by the fantabulous Los Plantronics. Saw some familiar faces but elected to sit out the Cosmonauts who were also playing in town at Revolver where I had some high end mac and cheese earlier.

The fact there was no show made it all very leisurely and Saturday started with an early morning coffee with my life coach at Mors. The Rt. Hon Pal Andreassen joined us and gave me a copy of the Jukebox Records film that just came out. Pal used to run the store in question that the film was inspired by, more about this later.

Late afternoon saw The D’s + me head back ‘slo ward where Peter Bagge was appearing at a Comics fest there. Despite many years of correspondence, I’d never met him and was pleased that this all came together. A very nice man who seems genuinely perplexed by this being what he does for a living. From there I was ferried to an outpost not too far from Oslo where a double birthday party was taking place. It was in the middle of the most amazing countryside. Not a million miles from what it looks like here in Scotland but never mind the Trossachs (ha!).

The Cavebones were playing and it was refreshing to see the kids there respond to their Cramps inspired antics with Jo Espen in full Fred Flintstone flow.  The girls were very up for the primitivism. The guys were a little more wary but what a spot. It’s situations like that which make me feel very privileged to be able to experience the real vibe of a culture. Norway is a gas, despite the fact that the exchange rate is crippling. However, I have very gracious hosts and I look forward to reciprocating over the coming weeks and months.

On Sunday, Jo took us out on his boat for a circular of the Island. It was cracking weather and a total trip. It got a wee bit choppy here and there but it was a trip. Apparently the cab driver that picked us up and deposited me at Casa D recognised my accent and wished he’d asked me about Nazareth. I wish he had.

All that fresh air wiped us out, it was a low key end to the day and all the more perfect for being such. It meant that I was up and about for an early meet with Gry and then Pål. So, the game was pretty much a bogey and my trip ended with a tranquil taco party. The flight back was a late one. This was a blessing and a curse as the trajectory to pumpkin was a straight one. Just a few hours later I was on the commute trail but as worn down and out as that felt, there was an inner glow. Moss is boss town. No dirty water around them there parts.

I hope this works... it's the Ben Vaughn doc that "aired" (is that still the right term in this cabled world?) in France this week. It does, I tried it. Just click on the arrow...

Thanks to Teenarama Powerpop for the tip-off!

Videos from Saturday night by Amy Verdon...

I wonder what either of the individuals in Roberta Bayley’s photo would have thought if you’d told the other that one day in the future that the gal would sing a song on her debut solo elpee by the guy?

Well, it’s come to pass that “Nobody’s Baby” features just that. What presumably began a mess around quickly took shape as a full album. It’s long been considered that Sam Elwitt was a genius. After all, isn’t The Nutley Brass play The Ramones Songbook one of the greatest albums of all time? I bet Herb Alpert wishes he’d come up with that. Incidentally, did that ever come out on vinyl? With all that Record Store Day landfill around you’d think such a beastie would be a shoe-in.

This one man Rockpile has cajoled Ms Linna into making an album that’s perhaps the best, most consistent example of the girl group sound since the debut Pussywillows mini-album. Did that come out on Telstar around the time Billy + Miriam got married? My recall tells me it did but that’s been misfiring of late. A few years ago, a woman by the name of Duffy scored a big seller with an approximation of this. I don’t want to call the sound here authentic. In time and space, such a description can give entirely the wrong idea. All you need to know is that this is pretty much as good as it gets in terms of timeless. All 12 cuts embody a feel and depth and sound that you seldom if ever hear anymore. What it should really be is a box of 7 inch singles. It reminds me fondly of Tracey Ullman’s tenure at Stiff and the videos where they sang into their hairbrushes.

The version of “Questioningly” sounds like a gal Joey. I have no idea what Miriam thinks of such a consideration but to my ears she truly does. I wish the big guy could have been around to hear it. If there’s any truth to this afterlife malarkey then undoubtedly he can but it might be some time until I can ask him in person. Something got in my eye when I heard it.

I’ve been eager to hear it again ever since HT and I visited Norton HQ in January and now I can. Everything about “Nobody’s Baby” is a total triumph, the sound, the sleeve and mostly the power of the music trapped on either side of the record. It is available in them modern formats the kids are said to prefer but NBT types will be favouring the vinyl methinks. That’s where it all really makes more than sense.

Mike Myers should give Sam a large wedge of cash to out shadow Shadow Morton and score the next Austin Powers movie with the proviso that Miriam makes a cameo showcasing a couple of these tunes. Meanwhile, until then, I hope to hear this blasting forth in several cool cabañas next time I’m in Spain. And that maybe a show or three on this side of the world might be in the offing?

Union Pool in "the Brooklyn" is the place to be tonight as a few of these tunes get their live premiere. Meanwhile, you can order your copy here and be all set to be tooled up with the sound of this summer and many more to come. Irrespective of the weather outside. It's magic I tells you!

Miriam and Joey pic by Roberta Bayley

Just about a fortnight away... order your copy now!

Not as good sound as the other clip but still grand...

Haven’t much felt like writing on here lately but on Saturday night, I witnessed something magical, the Wreckless Eric 60^th Birthday extravaganza at The Lexington. London was jumping this past weekend, with Barrence Whitfield and The Pink Fairies also providing an antidote to duff music across the capital. Opting for the Pentonville Road option, I got to the venue just as Scott and Charlene’s Wedding were finishing. Shame really because they sounded alright. However, having been partaking of a wee social – and rather stupidly not having anything to eat – then this is the way the cookie crumbled. Taking position in the Amy-zone (I think that’s what Gurbir called it).

And so it came to pass. The Lex – is it OK to call it that? – was a total triumph. Celebrating a man who deserves an ovation like this and way more every night. Seeing him with a “band” for the first time in a lifetime was just an utter treat. Along the way it was like The Velvet Underground jousting with The Troggs. During "Depression", Amy started to channel a Martin Rev-style intensity. The “Johnny Remember Me” percussion undertow on "Joe Meek" was nothing short of magical. “Tell Me I’m The Only One” kicked it all off and if this isn’t the best Chip Taylor song that Chip Taylor never wrote then I’m fucked if I know what is.

“Reconnez Cherie” started a singalong where if you shut your eyes you might imagine a Hammersmith Odeon full of people rhyming “zodiac” with “pacamac” and well, “Whole Wide World” brought the house down. It was very, very moving. The show was an utter victory and a vindication of Fire Records belief in a totally unique talent. And this wasn't just a band. It was a unit already. Even after so few shows. With "outfits" and everything.

Most of you know that Eric (and Amy) are like family to me but I’m not pissing up your collective backs here. Sadly the remainder of the shows won’t be with the band but please try to catch him on the coming week’s worth of solo shows if you can.

22  HUDDERSFIELD, The Vinyl Tap, in-store appearance
23  LEEDS, Belgrave Music Hall - jumborecords.co.uk/tickets - wegottickets
25  MANCHESTER, The Castle Hotel www.wegottickets.com/jezebelmusic
26  LIVERPOOL, The Lomax
27  EDINBURGH, Voodoo Rooms TICKET LINK 

He’s also doing some in the US but we’ll get to those… taking in the sodium glare with Eric Goulden is a grand experience. I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Lest we forget the privilege of such utterly captivating entertainers...

This is the reception that he should get every night...

... it's a pretty well-kept secret that Mike Watt and the Missingmen are playing Edinburgh on Monday (Sneaky Pete's) and Glasgow on Tuesday (Broadcast).

Spread the word.

My favourite new band!

Pantones

Flagged up by Long Rydin' Sidney Griffin... I do like me a good mash-up.

“It just ain’t dignified, ain’t dignified!”  So shouts ex-Coyoteman, Captain Dynamite.  “It’s a cryin’ shame to see a loved one in their Autumn years, shoe-horned into Lycra, sportin’ a thread bare mask that’s seen better days and stinkin’ to high Heaven of bath tub gin, Deep Heat ‘n’ Werthers Originals - an embarrassment to the family.  Hell, I’m not saying she wasn’t a good mom, but it just wasn’t dignified, wasn’t dignified.”

It seems with Los Coyote Men’s NARC.-sponsored retirement riot over and done with, a light bulb went on over the Captain’s ungainly head. Reborn as The UNKNOWN PRINTER, the Ladies’ Pet and the Gentlemen’s Threat sets out his stall at the World’s First Rumble Sale; hawking his shoddy goods, his child like scrawl plastered on such reduced-to-clear items as Mexican wood cuts, hand-screened t-shirts ‘n’ G.G. Allin underpants... while for the less punch drunk shoppers/gig-goers, entertainment includes: Two live bands! 
El Heft, the masked chef!  Bubblegum Vegas,  rockin’ jewellery!  Racket Clothing, Anarchist attire!

Also, new and second hand clothing, records, books, and musical instruments galore! 

“It’s what Mom would have wanted.”
RUMBLE SALE
Sun 4th May  (50p)
11am until 2pm
The Sound Room
Redheugh Studios
Gateshead NE8 1PH
To book a stall or more info go to
www.fromprintersunknown.com

RIP - Leee Black Childers

From Michael Shelley's "More Superhits of the Seventies"...

The Flamin Groovies are heading for Spain!

I had no idea...

THEN...




RIGHT NOW...

RESERVE TICKETS!

LC on CBS morning telly...

RIP – Marty Thau

While I was aware that Marty wasn’t firing on all cylinders, the news came as a shock.

I don’t or shouldn’t have to explain who he is to anyone stopping around here. Needless as it is to speculate that if it hadn’t been for him, many of our favourite acts wouldn’t have made the transition to any kind of platform. No New York Dolls pun intended. If you do need basic facts then google him or better yet, wait for his memoir to be published in order to get the finer detail from the horse’s mouth.

In addition to all of that, for me, it was Marty’s involvement in NY rock that was responsible for two enduring life-long friendships with Miriam Linna and Howard Thompson. Strangely, in a series of full circle events that have come my way recently - the 3 of us were together again during my last day in NY as January drew to a close. I liken it to a kind of “It’s A Wonderful Life” scenario in retrospect. Had Miriam not worked at Red Star and passed the Simple Minds demo to Howard then my existence would be almost certainly way different. And Jim Kerr certainly wouldn’t have been wearing the label logo badge on the rear of the “Life In A Day” album cover.

Last time I actually saw MT was in Kassel, Germany. We were attending a Punk Rock Congress (with a K) where at one point there was Marty with Teresa (Randolph Ott), Andy Shernoff, Cheetah Chrome and me watching The Boonaraaas!!! In Lolita Bar. The event was also the only place where Rocket From The Tombs ever played in Europe. Since that hootenanny in 2003, we were in regular contact.

Marty reactivated Red Star as a digital imprint and was slowly building up a wee catalogue that included recent music by Lola Dutronic and Jeremy Gluck. Another aspect of all this is that I would never have been able to supply a first generation cassette copy of the Fleshtones "Blast Off" for the Get Hip release with bonus track had it not been for HT having sent me a copy of that around the time that it really should have been released.

The Chairman was a guy that could polarise opinion, a guy who, like many of us, would cut off his nose to spite his face. The older one gets, the more likely one is to be considered contrary. We disagreed on several things now and again but we only really ever had one real falling out that was cleared up pretty quick when we agreed to differ.

So let’s wind out with those Fleshtones who not only “Remember The Ramones” in this succinct reminder of the times when MT was the king of the Lower East Side and the noise that the kids of all ages were making down there.

Raise a Rémy Martin to the guy without whom there may well have been no Ramones, no Blondie and no Suicide to actually remember.

The world will not be a better place for the loss of his cantankerous charm. It was a privilege to have been able to call him a friend and I’ll miss the e-mail chats we had in recent times when he was burning the way after midnight oil due to his condition. There was plenty for a couple of old grouches to grumble about without getting into health shortcomings.

We’ve lost another true character.

My condolences to Teresa, his family and friends at this time, another wretched reminder that time is slipping away from all of us.

The kids are tearing it up in Italy but you can get their latest hit - download only for now - penned by Kurt Baker at CD Baby now! Virtual sleeve art pic by the fab-tastic Blanca Velasco Navarro, snapped in La Alegría, Madrid last October.

RIP - The Mighty Hannibal

Typical. The Johnny Moped doc is playing the Monorail Film Club this Sunday (26th) and I'm not around.

RIP - Freddie Fingers Lee

RIP - Alexandra Bastedo

TAV FALCO'S PANTHER BURNS / THE PRIMEVALS / THE REVERSE COWGIRLS

at Broadcast in Glasgow on Sunday 9th February 2014.

New to me and damn good. Primitive Hearts... (Thanks Kjetil)

Thanks Nick. For the duration of this, I forgot about the prospect of returning to the salt mine tomorrow.

Any plans I had for activity during the stupid season were not to be. There are a number of reasons for this. In addition, I could well be over this blogging malarkey. What I need to pursue at this point is what to do with the rest of my existence. That's a much bigger question/picture/whatever you care to call it.

So I hope you survive this one and many more. The premise of the expression "happy" is all well and good but actual reality - not the scripted kind from TV - more likely has other ideas. Isn't that just the name of a dwarf anyway?

Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co., and here's hoping yours is both merry and bright.  Ho, ho, ho!

*THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD /
It's a Boxing Day special at the always festive Otto's! / 538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / 8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 / No cover charge or tithing required  

*WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 8th / RODEO BAR /
Our monthly Rodeo residency continues into 2014! / 375 Third Avenue (at the corner of 27th Street) in Manhattan / Three bell ringing sets, from 9:00 sharp 'til midnight, with no cover

Seasonally yours,
Michael, Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co.
"Ballads, Boogies & Blues"

As I may have said in the past, I have no real problem with Christmas in general. It’s just all the extraneous gubbins that it’s come to embody that I can’t abide. Each to their own, but the less I have to deal with then the better it is for everyone. I’m luckier than most in that respect because I just retire to the bunker and that’s pretty much what is on the cards.

“New year” is never that. And the hale fellow well met, hollow greetings that surround it further stick in this particular craw. Of course, one wants their friends and family – often the same thing – to enjoy some kind of gratification ALL the time. Not just for a couple of commercialised up the wazoo weeks a year. This year, I’m stuck in the salt mine until 1.30pm on Christmas Eve. Them’s the breaks. It comes with the territory and as the clock creaks toward that finishing line, it can’t come quick enough. As bah humbuggers go, I’m pretty set in my ways but there will be good times had over the course. I get to see some folks that I get way too little of and will undoubtedly communicate with many other from here in the confines of base camp. There may even be some proper blogging here and there but no end or best of the year lists. There are already plenty of those doing the rounds.

So – do whatever it is you need to do to make it through the bunfight. May your days and nights be merry and bright. The polar opposite of something that rhymes with that last word.