RIP - Paul Williams (Crawdaddy creator)

I know.

Said this thing was going to jumpstart. Well, there've been a few curveballs here and there that have gotten in the way. The enforced regime change with all this new hardware is taking a wee bit of acclimatising to also. Just finding time recently has proven to be problematic. All that considered, it is my intention to stir this thing into life. Maybe even change the decor now that I don't have to pedal so fast to make the screen flicker.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves, I'm just glad it's Friday night and I have no place to go. The weather here is grim but not here in the bunker. So let's see how the weekend pans out. No promises or expressions of achieving anything much.

Thanks for dropping by on the off chance something might have occurred, Something will when you - and I - least expect it to.

Still haven’t been able to shake this thing back into action but I made it out two nights in a row on Thursday and Friday. Two shows, two duos. Dynamicly intact.

It was the welcome return of Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby to Glasgow. As always, the audience should have been bigger but those that were there were treated to this unique experience. Nobody else does what they do and even if they did, they wouldn’t come close to this level of entertainment. That’s what they do, they entertain. It’s not a choreographed chunk with the same banter at every show. It’s always tailored to the moment. It’s a pleasure to witness and hear. They deserve to be appreciated far more widely but these two are resigned to the slog. One day the world will catch up. It has to. The set closer of “Leaving On A Jet Plane” indicated what that would have sounded like had it been tackled by yon Velvet Underground for the third album. By the time it wound out, the meleé could well have come from VU and Nico.

So it was a late finish early on Friday morning. Once those Wrigbys headed for Gateshead, I returned to the reality of phone-rassling.

So by the time it got to the evening, the consideration of dragging myself into Edinburgh. Had I considered that the town would be chocka with rugby supporters, it may well not have happened. However, I flaked out the last time I was supposed to catch The Creeping Ivies so I figured extra effort should be made. The last time I was in The Wee Red Bar in Edinburgh was when Amy (Rigby) played there with her daughter Hazel. And strangely, I’d just talked to Hazel when her mom called her from here in the bunker.

Anyway, it’s a nice room and the Ivies were on a 4 band bill sweetened for me by a 10pm curfew.  I missed the first one. The second one wasn’t too offensive but the third one kind of was. I won’t name names but completely the kind of thing that exasperates me. Ironically desecrating the Boney M songbook is a pretty lame schtick but they had an entourage, one of which introduced them and I’m still trying to uncurl my toes.

The Creeping Ivies are very possibly the best “new” combo in Scotland. The two person group formation has thrown up much that I can’t take more than 10 minutes of. I include The White Stripes in that. But these kids have a magic ingredient, they also look great in addition to making a low down shakin’ chill-inducing racket. They’re honing their chops right now as they impatiently wait for vinyl copies of their “Stay Wild” album to drop.

This is an analog noise that sounds OK in a digital format but they were born to make slabs of wax. Their “Rock’n’Roll Party” EP is begging to be unleashed as a 7” example of the way it can still be done. The best thing about ‘em is that they’re not contrived. There’s a genuine magic that can’t be plotted via the modular antics that so many employ.

So I was glad I caught them finally. They exceeded expectation and I don’t experience that sensation too often.  

I like the concept of routine. Rewritten to suit myself of course but as I get longer in the tooth I struggle to get to grips with change. Not the kind you keep in your pocket, the kind that prods you into having to learn. Not that I’m against learning per se but I have parameters. So I have this new computer. Once I get set up with wi-fi I hope it might avert me from crashing out on the sofa because I’ll discipline myself to use it in another room.

 

Aye. Right. I can hear you think and this is not unfounded but once I get up to speed then what was once normal service could happen again. Efficiencies that actually improve things could also be brought to bear. For instance, maybe I’ll be up for doing artwork and stuff again if anyone gives a hoot. I would be kind of nice to piss about with that again but who knows how long it'll take me to get to grips with this. Hopefully not long because I'm not reknowned for my patience.

 

 

A car clutch failure looked like it might impinge on yon weekend just past but it didn’t wreck things completely. It complicated logistics here and there but not three much. Saw a movie called “Bring Me The Head of the Machine Gun Woman” that was shown as part of Frightfest.

The plotline of this Chilean exploitation flick doesn’t stand too much scrutiny but its several degrees more fun than Django. Caught an episode of Hellfjord, need to see more before I can decide how contrived to a perceived demographic it actually is. 

From there, I met Magnus Dahlmann off the airport bus. He’d made the journey to catch the Sunday Monorail Film Club Screening of Big Star – Nothing Can Hurt Me. Making its long-anticipated debut in a town that has long played a part in the growth of the legend of the band. I would argue the point with anyone that a certain band from Bellshill is almost singularly responsible for giving this much of a hoot, the film plus a US-centric path and tells the story the way it probably needs to be told. While the DB’s and REM or whoever certainly were torch bearers, "Bandwagonesque" is hands down the follow up to Radio City. I think there’s room for a film about Alex to be made aside from this but this is pretty excellent. Personally I found some of it very moving. Articularly the inclusion of that Cramps Memphis footage on the big screen and the Panther Burns clips.

I’m glad Drew DeNicola sanctioned the film to the film festival because of the strong bond that Scottish pop has with that Big Star skewed-anglophilic sound. Having Magnus here allowed scope for wandering around town pointing out hotspots where celebrations of the band have taken place over the years. By the time it makes it to DVD, I’m sure there’ll be a ton of extras but take any opportunity to catch it in a theatre that you can. 

February is almost over. We’re all over the dank, driech cold dark winter. The intention of doing this every day hasn’t exactly worked out but I’m breaking in some new hardware so who knows how March will shape up.  It certainly starts well with the return of Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby. The immediate world is always a better place with them around.

RIP - Kevin Ayers

I can’t find a trailer for Good Vibrations anywhere. I’ve hunted high and low but there doesn’t seem to be one. Pretty odd for something that’s a month away from a limited cinema run.

However, maybe it’s better that way because you’ll have to go and see it. While not without its flaws here and there, the overall effect and taking into consideration that you should never let the truth get in the way of a good story, I would reckon that most, if not all of you would chime with it.

Watching an actor play someone you actually know is pretty odd. And I’m standing by for more of that with the CBGBs film that’s due soon. Two other aspects of film personally moved me and I’m not going to divulge those just in case you can get the same frisson.

Terri Hooley was at the screening and he stated that Glasgow was the place he really wanted to attend the screening. He was a little overcome with emulsion as befits his character. The fact that a story like this could ever be made into a film in this day and age is out of step with perceived regulation. However this made it to screen is something to be celebrated. I read a very mean-spirited, entirely missing the point review of it online. Then I read that it made Mark Kermode cry. I wonder if he was affected by the same parts as I was?

Perhaps I’ll get a chance to ask him when The Dodge Brothers hit Bo’ness in March.

This posting every day thing isn’t really working out for one reason and another. Spent most of yesterday in the cinema... and it started well with a screening of “Angels With Dirty Faces” in the morning. Part of Glasgow Film Festival’s Cagney "season", the expression “they don’t make then like that anymore” certainly struck me when I was watching it. Being able to see these films on the big screen is genuinely magic.

From GFT, I made for the less-conducive climes of Cineworld for “Joe Dies at The End”. While not outright awful, its contempt for conventional storytelling becomes increasingly premeditated/irritating. Consider Bill and Ted take the "Lost Highway" in a version of “Go” or “The Hidden” for a post Scott Pilgrim world without the inherent charm of any of those. Add a hint of Donnie Darko and it plays out like a pilot for a TV show that will almost certainly never be made. Based on an internet phenomenon, it ultimately suffers from not being as smart as it seems to believe it might be.

And the location meant that by the time I made it down from the top floor of the cineplex then I just got back to the station as the train was pulling out. Part of a litany of events that peppered the whole day but I digress.

The final viewing of the day was “Django Unchained”. I’d bodyswerved reading anything about it and went in expecting to like it as I generally do with Tarantino movies. I like the way he appropriates and has created an audience made of people who would never go to see the stuff he filches from. With the exception of Christoph Waltz’s excellent performance – he gets all the best dialogue, it’s a series of set pieces built around the premise of "Blazing Saddles" as realised by Sam Peckinpah. The gore is B+Q red though and maybe a couple of fart gags would have loosened it up a bit. It’s way too long and choreographed. In my opinion, having rap in the soundtrack of a western is just wrong. DU is just too up itself to be entertaining to me and I think the John Legend song just tipped it all over the edge in populist self congratulation. He could have used Richie Havens, that would have made all the difference. I reiterate, to me. Go see it yourself but just don't expect to be blown away.

Disappointment is something I should be used to by now but it still rankles. I could use a suprise or two of the upbeat variety right about now. Let’s hope that tomorrow’s “Good Vibrations” screening provides a little of that.

RIP - (George) Shadow Morton

Looking for a sure thing?

Let Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co. be your date this Valentine's Day week.

You won't even have to buy us dinner first...

*WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 13th / RODEO BAR /

375 Third Avenue (at the corner of 27th Street)in Manhattan / Three romantical sets, from 9:00 sharp 'til midnight / No cover!

Plus, in later Lenten action...

*THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 28th / OTTO'S SHRUNKEN HEAD
538 East 14th Street (just west of Avenue B) in Manhattan / Two post-President's Day tribute sets, from 8:00 sharp 'til 10:00 / No cover

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

In Belfast, this coming Saturday night...

They're about a month away... check the dates!

Five days into February and the posts just keep on coming. Granted, the bulk of these thus far have been a jpeg or two but compared to the past wee while it’s something...

Truth is I don’t have the time to do too much right now. I’m a little out of the blogging habit too. Those two are ganging up a little but normal service will return at some point.

The Hippodrome Silent Cinema programme was released today. This may be of interest to anyone within travelling distance of Bo’ness. It’s been extended this third year and the programme even includes Mark Kermode’s skiffle ensemble The Dodge Brothers.

RIP - Reg Presley

Thanks to Alastair McKay for the link.