Nemesis To Go

Three reasons to post on Sunday

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sun, 06 Jul 2008 11:42:52 GMT

Well, it's Sunday, which means that the interweb goes quiet...

It's ironic that in these days of constant communications, when we're all supposed to have our homes wired for comms and Blackberries in our pockets, so many people still seem to rely on the computer at work for their access to the internet. Come the weekend, traffic levels take a nose dive because everyone's at home playing cribbage with the vicar, or something.

This probably means that nobody is reading my Sunday ramblings - I can shout 'BOLLOCKS!' into the void, and nothing but silence will come back to me. Shall we try?

BOLLOCKS!

There. I knew it!

However, I do have three reasons to be here, and here they come....

1. I've bought a laptop. That's it in the photo above. It's the latest version of the Asus Eee. Slightly souped-up spec, bigger screen. Slightly souped-up price, too, but still the cheapest laptop on the block. I'm very happy with it. I have visions of myself sitting at the bottom of the garden, glass of Pimm's at my side, putting my webzine together in relaxed bliss. That's the theory, anyway. We'll see how reality shapes up.

2. MySpace, bless it, has been giving me trouble. I think some of my messages have vanished into nothingness instead of getting to their destination. If you think you should have received some sort of MySpasm communication from me, and it hasn't arrived, that's probably the reason. Let me know and I'll try again.

3. There has been rock 'n' roll. I have evidence:

You're probably saying, 'Gosh! Isn't that Nomi Leonard out of Queen Adreena?' Well, usually it would be, but not on this occasion. It's actually Nomi Leonard out of The Dogbones, who played at Stay Beautiful's beach party nite - lots of songs about holidays, the seaside, etc. I was wondering if I should request 'On Some Faraway Beach' by Brian Eno, to inject a note of death into the proceedings, but I suspect it wouldn't have struck quite the right note.

This concludes my Sunday interlude of shouting into the void. I shall leave this post here for you to read when you schlep into the office on Monday. Good morning!

Bad Seeds and Venomettes

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Wed, 02 Jul 2008 06:10:55 GMT

I'm working the night shift at my day job at present (if that makes sense), which plays merry hell with my body clock and makes it difficult to keep up with communications - if I owe you an email, MySpasm message or even an LJ comment please bear with me while things are arse-upwards.

The night shift also gets in the way of any midweek rock 'n' roll opportunities that might crop up, of course. Fortunately, British Industry does not require my presence over the weekend, so last Saturday I was able to take a stroll down Stoke Newington Church Street until I beheld a sight that gladdened my eye:

I'm not referring to the bit that says 'FREE GIG' (although that's a phrase it's always nice to encounter). The key words in this case are 'VENOM SEEDS'. This combo has been on my band-radar for ages (in fact they were one of the first bands on my MySpasm friends list, for whatever that's worth), but it's taken a long time for our trajectories to intersect.

Well, our trajectories certainly intersected on Saturday night. The lead singer fell on me. You certainly know you've intersected with a band when that happens.

Here are the Venom Seeds in action. The vocalist bravely continues singing, even though that last pint went straight through her:

The Venom Seeds are one of many lo-fi minimalist scuzz-rock outfits around these days: what you see in the photo above is the full band. Guitar, drums, vocals, nothing else. But while that might be a fairly familiar approach nowadays (personally, I blame the White Stripes) the Venom Seeds have their own style and their own sound...which, mostly, goes Screech! Roar! Blatter! SLAM!

And then the lead singer falls on you. Can't ask for more, really, can you?

Naturally, the fans went wild:

Here's one for classic rock-gear fans. Is that a vintage Gibson SG? What's that strange brass-finished combo amp? It's funny, I seem to be seeing an increasing number of bands using ancient kit on stage. Maybe that's a function of the murky world of minimalist scuzz-rock in which I (sometimes) move - or is there really a trend towards using Old Stuff? Anyway - quite apart from the hardware - I liked the way the guitarist maintained an offhand cool even when the mayhem kicked off all around her:

If you'd like to investigate the band further, here's their website and MySpasm page. The tunes they've got online suffer somewhat from the Curse Of Compression - that horribly squashed mp3 mumble-grumble that makes everything sound like it's been run over by a steamroller. This is really a band you've got to experience blasting away three inches from your face.

Unfortunately my attempts to get a bit of Venom Seeds product have been thwarted so far. I've been trying to buy their 7" single (the red vinyl version, because everything sounds louder on red vinyl) but there's an infuriating problem in the way. The band are on a US record label which does all its business via PayPal - and refuses to accept PayPal payments from outside the USA.

Now, what's all that about? Is there some sort of rational reason for that restriction, or is it just a bit of music biz stupidity? I realise that the website says 'email us' for international orders, but I shouldn't have to do that. I should be able to click and buy - no messing. A record label that makes it pointlessly difficult to buy its releases - where's the sense in that? No wonder everyone's file sharing these days.

Well, there are a couple of other Venom Seeds gigs coming up in London, so maybe I'll be able pester the band for product directly. Great band, shame about the record company. That's a scenario that crops up far too often!

This is a public service announcement…with guitars

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 01 Jul 2008 06:56:21 GMT

Well, I threatened to post a slight update on my rock 'n' roll activities, and part one of this now follows...

Last Friday I was at the Hope And Anchor in Islington to see Telegram Frank - the artist otherwise known as Frank The Baptist.

I remember, 20-odd years ago, when the Grope & Wanker was a rough old punker pub in a rough old area. A skinhead offered me heroin in there once. Things have changed quite a lot since then: Islington is a millionaires' enclave and the pub, while still trading on its punk rock past, is all brown leather seating and designer lampshades these days. I drank several pints of IPA. Nobody offered me class As.

Down in the cellar, Frank's set, which included songs, spoken word interludes and a certain amount of merry banter with the audience, went down well. His Telegram Frank persona, a kind of whimsical troubadour, a teller of surreal and sometimes melancholy tales, fits him rather well.

The crowd was relatively small, and significantly did not include all the superkewl deathrock scenesters you might have expected to show, given that the deathrock scene is where Frank's principal audience comes from. But that, I suppose, is only to be expected. Scenesters, by definition, only go to scene events. If Frank had played a set at Dead & Buried, I'm sure he would have been applauded heartily by a large crowd of enthusiastic deathrockers. But, because Frank played a non-scene gig, the deathrockers didn't show.

Personally, I think this shows the way the deathrock scene is going: it's turning into a partying/clubbing social scene, just like goth in general did - very few people are interested in the music, and certainly it's rare for anyone to step outside the comfortable scene boundaries. Still, at least all those present at the Hope & Anchor were genuine fans of Frank's music, and at least Frank now has a straight-up London rock circuit venue on his touring CV, which might provide a useful bit of leverage next time round.

But if anyone needed a lesson in the limitations of a scene, I think we got it on Friday night.

I have another rock 'n' roll update to come, from another gig on Saturday night...but I'll post that one tomorrow. Here's a photo from the gig to be going on with. Identify the band and win a lavish prize!

[Note: lavish prize subject to non-existence]

Flower power

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Mon, 30 Jun 2008 06:16:28 GMT

We take a short break from my usual rock 'n' roll ramblings today. Here's a flower instead.

Not just any old flower: my cactus, which lives outside in an old kitchen measuring scoop, and chose the just-gone weekend to burst into bloom. I have not tweaked the colour or brightness in this photo - this is how it really looked in the sunlight:

There, now. Doesn't that brighten up your day?

We'll be back to obscure and cacophonous bands in noisesome venues, and my sarky remarks about same, from the next post. Until then, stay flowered up.

Be my valentine

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 07:50:38 GMT

The other night I journeyed to the agreeable surroundings of the Roundhouse to witness a maelstrom of surging freak-rock noise as performed by My Bloody Valentine. As it happened, I found myself in an ideal position to grab a few pix of Bilinda Butcher, while finding it almost impossible to take a decent photo of anyone else.

So, here's an action shot of Bilinda, doing that 'schlang-schlang-schlang' guitar riff which seems to be the basis of most MBV songs. The entire band seems to more or less permanently shop at the Three Chords Or Less checkout, too. It's actually quite intriguing how such simple musical ingredients, if combined and treated in the right fashion, can make that noise. Still, I suppose the Velvet Underground showed us the way on that one. My Bloody Valentine just took the concept down the student union indie disco...

(Artistic note: the main subject in this photo is not off-centre by mistake. I was trying to get her shadow in!)

It's probably rather undiplomatic to note this, but I was struck by how Bilinda Butcher, who is now 47 years old, still looks like she's just stepped out of that student union indie disco, circa 1986. If she could market the secret (Indie Face moisteriser, anyone?) I'd buy it.

I was never a huge MBV fan - I always had them down as a band who did one thing rather well, but it was, nevertheless, just one thing. Well, they still do their one thing rather well, and if you're going to any of their upcoming gigs I dare say you'll dig 'em. But keep your earplugs very firmly screwed in. They haven't got any quieter in their old age, that's for sure.

I live on Rock 'n' Roll street

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Wed, 11 Jun 2008 05:29:30 GMT

It seems my street has hidden levels of rock 'n' rollness. I've just discovered that the manager of Sister Ray lives a few doors away from me...

It also appears that Sister Ray is feeling the pinch somewhat. The problem is not, for once, file-sharing (which is quite refreshing: that does seem to be many people's all-purpose get out of jail free card for absolutely anything that goes wrong in the music biz these days). The real problem is the dominance of music retailing by the big chains such as HMV, which can use their size to strip costs right down - for example, by running their online/mail order business from the Channel Islands, with all the tax breaks that go with that (if you've ever bought a CD from the HMV website, for example, you'll have noticed it is sent from Jersey). Independent record stores, which have to run everything from their back room, can't compete.

So...buy stuff from Sister Ray. Use it or lose it, and all that.

In other rock 'n' roll news, I've discovered that some of my photos have mysteriously turned up on someone else's website. That's happened before, of course, and in general I don't mind as long as a credit and a link is given. But in this case, it seems a Queen Adreena MySpasm fan page has grabbed a few of my pix...and put their own logo on them.

Cheeky buggers!

I applied to be a MySpasm Pal of this fan site, just so they'd know that I know. So far, no response. What's more, they don't seem to have noticed that I now have a whole new selection of QA photos available to view. It'll be interesting to see how long it takes for those pix to propogate across the interweb...

Incoming: Frank The Baptist in London

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 10 Jun 2008 05:05:52 GMT

This just in from the Nemesis Information Relay Station...

Frank the Baptist has a London gig coming up very soon, on Friday June 27. It's a solo show - just him, and his Rickenbacker 330. If you caught his collaboration with Lucas Lanthier of Cinema Strange, the Dirty Weather Project, in Leipzig recently you'll possibly have a hint of what the show will be like.

He'll be performing at the Hope & Anchor, Upper Street, Islington. Tube: Highbury & Islington, or Angel if you don't mind a walk. Frank has an early set - I'm told he's on stage at 8.30pm - so you can catch the gig and then go on to your previously scheduled Friday Nite Clubbing Experience (or go home for tea, as the fancy takes you).

Art for art's sake, money for God's sake

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 07:49:27 GMT

I wonder if using a 10cc song title as my subject header makes me cool, or not? I suspect not, because the song was a horrible Thatcherite anthem, if you read the lyrics. For all their wit and winning ways with quirky pop tunes, 10cc were a frightful bunch of old reactionaries in many ways.

Anyway. The other night I went so see some sonic ART at the George Tavern - some entertaining toilet graffiti from the pub illustrate this post...

The evening did seem to be put together somewhat on a 'let's make it up as we go along' basis - apparently the notional headliners, Selfish Cunt, didn't show until some time in the early hours, whereupon all the bands present formed themselves into an instant art-rock supergroup and had an impromptu experimental jam. I say 'apparently' because I wasn't there to witness this. I'd already left the building, because I had an appointment at the vet early in the morning (for the cat, not for me) so art-rockin' far into the early hours wasn't really an option.

This might mean I fail the Kewl Test again, but hey. Some of us have real lives too, you know!

However, the sonic art that I did see was nicely positioned between weirdo and neato. Poetry, to a backing of urban tribal drumming. Layered electronic noize, played by a man on the floor with a vintage Korg (what would the sonic art world do without their vintage Korgs?). Some mutant sixties-ish torch songs from an Experiment On A Bird In The Air Pump (can we call them 'The Birds' or something...please? It would save my typing finger). And a surprisingly ROCK set from Vertical Smile - even the relentless floorstomper that is 'Explode' mysteriously aquired a whammy-bar guitar solo. I made some jocular remarks afterwards to the effect that Vertical Smile's guitarist was a bit of a Nigel Tufnel, only to find that I was addressing one of his mates...

Nigel Tufnel in action. Alexis of The Violets checks the hi-freaks:

In another moment of social ineptitude, I failed to recognise Alexis because she had her glasses on. I was standing there, supping my beer, wondering why that strange girl was gesticulating at me. I thought she was trying to tell me I had beer dribbling down my chin, or something...

Other stars in the house were the entire line-up of the Screaming Banshee Aircrew, and also the entire line-up of markeris, with whom it was very nice to wag chins and sup beer. Not a bad night out, although once you've experienced the amiable, freewheeling, open-ended art chaos of events like this, it does tend to make Frank of Flag Promotions look like a paragon of ruthless efficiency by comparison. And let me ask you this: when did you last see 'Flag Promotions' and 'ruthless efficiency' in the same sentence?

I shall make another attempt to witness Selfish Cunt in action on Thursday July 3, when they play the Luminaire in fashionable Kilburn with Sam Amant. A very good combination of artists at a very nice venue - and, because Luminaire gigs tend to kick out somewhat before 11pm, a good option for those of us with Proper Jobs and Real Lives. I'd be slightly more confident if that gig was listed on the Luminaire website, mind, but hey. You've got to have a little bit of chaos in there somewhere, or it just ain't art, right?

One last graffiti photo to wrap things up. This one is a little unclear, so I will provide a plain text translation. Someone with a black marker pen has written 'I'm in love with Prince Charles...'

...and, underneath, the official spokesman for His Royal Highness has added in Royal blue biro: 'He thinks you're a stupid cunt.'

Art + Punk = Kaboom

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Thu, 05 Jun 2008 05:30:47 GMT

I don't usually mention upcoming gigs, because I have an irrational fear that if I so much as breathe a word, some stupid problem will occur (I'll go down with flu, there'll be a tube strike, the world will end in a ball of infernal fire) that will prevent me from getting there. Best to keep my gob shut, and then talk about the gig once it's safely in the past and I've been to it, that's my usual policy.

But I am going to laugh in the face of my irrational fear today, because this Friday there's a gig in London which looks like it could be a bit of a good one. Allow me to hand you a virtual flyer:

Selfish Cunt and Vertical Smile together should generate enough sonic force to create new weather systems, I reckon. Last time Selfish Cunt played at the George Tavern, it all got splendidly uncivilized. Read about it here, scroll down a bit for some alarming photos. With any luck it'll get a bit lively again...

(In fact, if you scroll down a bit more, you can see me suggesting that Vertical Smile + Selfish Cunt together would make quite a gig. Hmmm. Does this mean that this one was my idea? Well, I should just like to point out that if the place gets trashed again, it's not my fault!)

All this and An Experiment On A Bird in The Air Pump (an offshoot of the very fine Eve Black/Eve White, and the most difficult to remember band name ever). Oh, and it seems there will be poetry, too. I don't know if we should take that as a threat or a promise!

Not so much an artrocker gig as an artfucker gig. And they sell weird Belgian fruit beer at the bar. Yes, I think this gig definitely gets filed under It Has To Be Done.

Now...bring on the infernal fire!

Belgium. Brussels. Banana custard.

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 03 Jun 2008 16:48:26 GMT

Just to finally wrap up my stack of travel photos, here come a few pictures from our post-WGW excursion to Belgium. After this I promise all these tiresome travelogue entries will cease...and I'll just revert to my usual pointless London-based blatherings.

We took the train out of Germany, through the forests and mountains and strange little villages, all of which seemed to have a gothic church looming like a mini Dracula's castle amid the houses:

A runined schloss, somewhere near the German/Belgian border:

Somewhere in the north-west hinterland of Germany, this weird white hill rises out of nowhere. Presumably it's the result of some sort of mining, but what could produce this strange white mound? China clay? Well, maybe, but we've been mining china clay for years in the UK and Cornwall hasn't turned into a snowy peak:

Faster! Faster! This was the maximum speed our train reached on the journey. Just as well the driver backed off before he hit 300kph, because it's a well known fact that the human body turns to banana custard at that speed:

And then, we were in Brussels. Here's Thomas, Andi, and me, hoping that nobody will steal the camera before the self-timer goes off:

A street in Brussels, named after a famous Belgian porn star. You may remember his appearance as the male lead in the 1973 classic Monsieur Dong et le sien schlong long:

The Belgian rival to Action Man never really captured the imagination of the kids:

A rather off-putting hot dog above a cafe. I think 'De Pistole' roughly translates as 'The Turd':

Andi with a Mini Clubman Estate, just like mine. Well, mine isn't in quite such good condition:

A doorway to another dimension:

And after that, it was back to London. Which, I think, is where we came in...

Wave Gotk Treffen photos: the final round-up (for now)

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sun, 01 Jun 2008 09:35:12 GMT

Here comes the final round-up of WGT photos that I've been rather erratically promising for several entries now, and failing miserably to dish up. Let's go....to the Parkbühne!

Here's Jacquy Bitch (that's Mister Bitch to you), who decided to delight us with a comedy My First Vampire Outfit he'd aquired from the kiddies' novelty section in his local pound shop. Not a bad band, actually, in a Virgin Prunes on steroids kind of way. But definitely a case of Sack The Stylist:

Kari and Riita showed up again at the Parkbühne. Here they are, offering drinks to the photographers (a practice I would like to encourage):

Next to them - this couple, who I was told come from Australia and are very nice, and therefore I should take a photo of them. So I did. Unfortunately, as I don't know who these people are, I have no way of showing them their picture. So I shall cast it out upon the interweb and hope that they find it:

Two products of the German motor industry, upon a Leipzig side strasse. I suppose most people, given the choice, would unhesitatingly select the BMW over the Trabant. Me, I'd go for the Trabbie every time. How can you fail to be impressed with a car that features an engine with precisely five moving parts?

Bang! Shout! Bug eyes! This is Santa Hates You, a side project from Peter Spilles of Project Pitchfork:

There were quite a lot of side project bands at the WGT this year, featuring moonlighting rock stars who were famous for other stuff. I wondered if there just aren't many new bands coming through these days. I realise umpteen bands will now read this and shriek, 'But we're a new band, and we're coming through!' Ah, yes, but have you got all the way through to the WGT?

Here's a new band, although some of its members have a bit of history. Representing the New Wave Of British Post-post Punk (or something), we have Dragons. Now, this band has been bigged-up to me many times as the greatest thing since the last greatest thing...

What did I think of them? Hum. Well. They're a good band, sure enough, but I don't think I can quite join the carnival and praise them as a great band. They do a polished take on a kind of Echo And The Joy Division sound. Watching their set, I was reminded that when I reviewed the Bell Hollow album I said this:

One thing Bell Hollow don't do is turn it up and rock out: the band keep it understated and judicious throughout. The music creeps up on you, rather than walloping you around the head. As it happens, I suspect Bell Hollow could make a towering Bunnymen-style anthem with ease if the fancy ever took them

Well, Dragons are what Bell Hollow would sound like if they decided to do towering Bunnymen-style anthems. Not bad stuff at all, but there are many bands working in this kind of musical area these days, and I don't necessarily think Dragons are the best. They just seem incredibly impressive to a goth scene audience whose only yardstick for quality is, erm, goth scene bands. But I've seen bands in murky little bars in Shoreditch (not to mention downtown New York dives) doing all that Dragons do and more.

Here's Andi and Lenore from Chicago (we seemed to meet people from Chicago everywhere we went) at the Kohlrabizirkus. Listen to the noise Lenore makes here.

Below we see a busking band outside Werk II. I was impressed that they were all-acoustic - no backing tracks, no generator whirring away. They had quite a crowd, and I wondered if they were a relatively well-known band that hadn't got booked for the WGT but had decided to go to Leipzig and play anyway. I suspect that within a couple of hours they would have played to more people than if they'd headlined the Underworld in London:

In the absence of any other information, sometimes I decide which bands to see at the WGT just on the strength of their name. If the name is good, I check 'em out. This technique can sometimes backfire - I mean, I was hoping Diabolo Swing Orchestra really were a swing orchestra. WRONG! They turned out to be...an operatic metal band. Oops!

However, Militant Cheerleaders On The Move turned out to be a real find. An unholy combination of DAF and Joy Division that really works. I rather liked it when the bassist knocked over the mic stand twice, following which a pissed-off roadie removed the entire thing from the stage, wearing a 'Well, you can't be trusted with that!' expression:

And here's another one of ours. Mr Deviant UK, doing the windscreen wiper dance at the Kohlrabizirkus:

The WGT, vast and sprawling thing that it is, can be quite daunting thing - so many bands, so many venues, such impossible logistics. In a way, I can understand why so many people go to the WGT and then don't go to the WGT - they spend the entire four days at the Gothic Pogo Party, or other suchlike fringe events that aren't actually part of the festival. It's the oh-fuck-it option: 'Oh, fuck it! Fuck the bands, I just wanna party!'

Personally, I don't want to fuck the bands (well, maybe one or two of the really good looking ones) so it's the moshpit for me every time. But after a few days of it, I know exactly how this bloke felt:

After the WGT was safely over, we took a train back to Brussels where we stopped off for a day of hangin' out. I have a few Brussels pix still to come, but that's yer lot for the WGT stuff for now.

The complete selection of photos, neatly organised in band-by-band fashion, will appear here before too long, and the complete review of the festival will come up here once I've got a full-on issue 6 ready to go. Please maintain a holding pattern...

Look mum, I'm on telly

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sat, 31 May 2008 20:14:49 GMT

I'm somewhere in this crowd.

50 Foot Queenie

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Fri, 30 May 2008 05:01:38 GMT

The other night I called in to the Luminaire , on London's glamourous Kilburn High Road, to give Queen Adreena an opportunity to nail their wail to my head.

I have a confession to make. I am a born-again Queen Adreena fan. A few years ago I remember going to see the band and being rather unimpressed with what seemed to be their slow decline into a kind of messy, default-option quasi-metal racket. But that was then, and this is now. It seems Queen Adreena have rediscovered their mojo (it was down the back of the sofa all the time). These days, they're tight and focussed and really rather exhilarating. Their performance on this occasion was, I think, the best I've ever seen them do, and the best no-shit rock experience I've had for a long time.

I came out of the gig battered, tattered, drenched with equal parts sweat and KatieJane's wine (which she generously shares with the audience at Maximum Spew Velocity)...and genuinely impressed.

Here come a few photos from the gig....

KatieJane Garside fixes the audience with her 'I'm going to get you' stare:

This is Nomi Leonard, Queen Adreena's new bassist (Queen Adreena change their bassists like the Banshees changed their guitarists). Personally, I think she has a lot to do with the band's ongoing mojo-rediscovery situation. This rhythm section works that rock 'n' roll mojo like a mofo:

[Note to myself: That pic suffers a bit from flash wash-out. Must try to colour it up a bit before I shove it in me webzine...]

Below we see KatieJane adressing her public. This isn't really an action shot, but I include it here because you can see Mab's guitarist, Lisa Dply (nope, I don't know how to pronounce it, either) in the crowd. As it happens, both Mab guitarists were in the house, and I was quite impressed that they didn't stand at the bar all night like rock stars. They mixed it in the mosh with the best of 'em:

Here's some fan/performer interaction:

Honestly, you're just standing there, minding your own business, and then a rock star goes and falls on you. What's a chap to do?

Here's a no-flash shot that has a nice atmospheric feel. You can see a 'What is she going to do now?' look on Crispin's face - a kind of default expression when you're in a band with KatieJane:

Yes, that one was definitely a fine gig. I believe there will be more Queen Adreena gigs in the UK later this year, and a new album is in the works. The mojo is obviously moving...

I'll wrap up my WGT-and-related photos next time. I know I keep saying that and I haven't quite done it yet, but I'll get there eventually. My mojo is moving, too...but only at a steady 30mph at present.

Squeezing out Sparks

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 27 May 2008 05:05:47 GMT

Went to see thee mighty Sparks play their 1979 album 'No. 1 In Heaven' the other night. A very authentic rendition...I particularly liked it when the audience sang the syndrum sounds (p'too! P'too!).

Here we see Ron Mael retaining his cool as the stage is invaded by Mark E. Smith of The Fall:

(Note his custom 'Ronald' keyboard)

Support band was a surprisingly compelling lounge act called Gamine, who kept it low-key but were very well recieved. 'When they booked us to support Sparks I don't think they realised we were going to do a whole set of lullabies,' said the singer:

I think I left my Leipzig photo essay more or less hanging in thin air a few posts back. Well, I'll wrap it up and round it off over the next couple of entries. For now, here's a pic I was instructed to take by Riita, who said that I really needed a cleaveage photo. Who was I to disagree?

More later...

Vote early, vote often

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Fri, 23 May 2008 05:32:33 GMT

You may or may not have noticed this, but elections for LiveJournal advisory board members are currently underway.

Just about anyone who uses LJ can vote. The advisory board represents LJ users to the ~~faceless corporation~~ caring modern company that runs the whole thing.

Being a cynical old bugger, I don't know how much clout the advisory board actually has - I suspect if the suits at LJ Towers want to do something they'll just go ahead and do it, advisory board or no advisory board. In fact, they've done just that on a few occasions in the past.

But nevertheless, it's better to have an advisory board than not have an advisory board, I suppose. So we might as well make it a good one.

Click yer three fave candidates here.

Wir sind Britisch. Daher sind wir kühl.

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Wed, 21 May 2008 05:09:12 GMT

Here come a few more extracts from our rock 'n' roll excursion to Leipzig. Here we are on a tram, on our way to see yet more bands. Note that in an off-guard moment, I allowed my face to assume its normal expression:

I think this year there were something like 15 UK bands at the WGT - a pretty good total, and definitely up on previous years. I don't know if this is because the WGT has discovered British bands, or whether British bands have discovered the WGT - probably a bit of both. What's more, the total includes old bands, current bands, bands on big labels, bands on small labels, and bands on no label at all. Proof, I think, of what I've said all along: the WGT is not some sort of mysterious forbidden zone for UK bands. It's an entirely achievable goal.

If we include Noblesse Oblige, who may not be based in the UK now, but certainly formed in the UK and played all their early gigs here, we can bump up the Brit-total to 16 bands. Here's Valerie from Noblesse Oblige at the Moritzbastei (note my use of Leonardo da Vinci-style sfumato effect on this one):

Here's a silhouette pic, which is usually a kind of last resort technique if the stage lighting is so unhelpful that full-frontal photos of the band don't really work. I was struggling against the lights a bit in the photo pit at Werk II when Cauda Pavonis were on, but when the bassist turned away at the exact moment the smoke and the light came together in a neat way, I thought, 'Aha! Art shot!':

When New Days Delay came on, the stage lighting became a bit more photo-friendly (less red, more white, not so much light behind the band), and I got this rather nifty pic of Insa. The slight blur actually helps the pic, I think - it conveys a nice sense of movement and action (well, that's my excuse, anyway):

One odd phenomenon you see quite a bit in Germany is the use of the Union Jack as a kind of symbol of rock 'n' roll coolness. You see people wearing badges, T-shirts, etc, featuring the Union Jack as a way of conveying an all-purpose message: 'I'm into cool alternative stuff, me'.

Strange though it may seem to us self-deprecating Brits, in Germany the UK really does seem to be regarded as the source of all things cool - a phenomenon which I maintain instantly gives British bands a natural advantage. In Germany people will be instantly interested in bands from the UK simply because they come from The Source Of The Cool.

I remember mentioning to ant_girl that if the Screaming Banshee Aircrew contrived to put a British flag on their German flyers - thus sending out the message 'WE ARE BRITISH! WE ARE COOL!' - it would function as an instant heads-up for the kool kidz. Obviously the reaction in the UK would be very different. People might assume that the band was trying to pull some cheesy Cool Britannia stunt, or had signed up with some loony-right political party. But in Germany, the Union Jack really does convey a certain rock 'n' roll attitude, and it's used as a symbol of such. I actually managed to grab a couple of photos in Leipzig that prove the point...

'Original Boots And Braces' brand shoes (nope, I've never heard of them, either) footwear on sale at the WGT market. Note the packaging!

Undercover Boots - an allegedly British brand that I've never seen on sale in the UK - largin' it with the Union Jack for extra rock 'n' roll cool points:

I didn't manage to get any photos of people wearing Union Jack badges or other suchlike accessories (although I saw quite a few, particularly among the deathrocky contingent). However, I can still prove that in Germany the Union Jack really is an all-purpose symbol of supercool rock 'n' roll style. Have a look at this page from the catalogue of Queen Of Darkness, the German alterno-fashion retailer (they had a huge stall at the WGT). See that interesting item, bottom right? I rest my case!

I do think that these people were taking things a bit too far, mind:

(Strictly speaking, they're using the wrong flag there, and all....)

So, there you have it. Being British gives you instant rock 'n' roll hipster status in Germany, to the point that our flag is used as a cool alternative symbol. If you're a British band, and you're keen to make some headway in Germany, there's a natural advantage there for you. Grab it and use it, is what I say.

That concludes my lecture 'Pan-European rock 'n' roll marketing strategies for the twenty-first century'. More random photos of bands will follow shortly...

Sell them tickets...

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 20 May 2008 05:00:17 GMT

If you've been reading the blog section on the Organ Fanzine MySpace recently, you'll know that Sean Organ is making a stand against the kind of deal that seems very common on the live music circuit these days, where the promoter expects bands to sell tickets to their own gig.

Sean's blogs have obviously ruffled a few feathers. One of his blog entries was deleted by MySpace after he mentioned by name one particular promoter who does the bands-sell-tickets thing, and one (fairly large and mainstream) festival, which requires bands to shift over a thousand pounds' worth of tickets as part of the deal.

Somebody obviously didn't want this information generally known. A complaint was made and the entry got pulled. He's now returned to the fray, with names deleted, and you can see the latest stuff in the Organ Zine's MySpace Blog.

I thought this was worth mentioning, because I know that the bands-sell-tickets deal is becoming an increasingly common method of putting a gig together. I never did this back in my showbiz days - call me old fashioned if you will, but I believe that it's the promoter's job to sell tickets. But these days it does seem usual for promoters to load all the risk (and a large chunk of the workload) onto the bands.

Anyway. There's the stuff if you want to read it, or even add your own experiences as a few bands have done already. (I'm interested in the comments regarding venue hire fees in Glasgow - by London standards that's absurdly cheap. I think I'll move to Glasgow and become a promoter!)

Rock 'n' roll photos from Leipzig will be back shortly...

WGT: more visual evidence

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Mon, 19 May 2008 05:07:58 GMT

Here come a few more photos from the WGT in Leipzig. I'm slowly working my way through my band shots, and it's taking the inevitable age to sort 'em all out. Believe me, I earn that photo pass!

Let's see how far I've got. So far I've done 7 out of 32 bands. I can easily take 50 shots (sometimes many more) of each band, all of which have to be looked at, the best ones picked out, photoshopped to within an inch of their lives (because the best shots aren't necessarily good shots, you understand), and then artfully assembled on a web page. Once I've done all that, I then have to write something fairly substantial (and hopefully pertinent and witty) about each band, with reference to my notes, which don't necessarily make much sense after the event.

For example - for one of the bands I caught at the WGT, I see my note simply reads: 'Mournful synthpop. Woe! Angst!' I won't reveal the name of the band (have a guess if you like) but somehow I have to expand that one-liner into a full review. I'll do it, sure enough...but it'll take time. Meanwhile, of course, there are other gigs happening, all of which generate more photos to process and reviews to write.

I wouldn't do all this if I didn't want to, of course, but sometimes I do wonder what I've got myself into...

So, let's see if my photos justify the WGT's faith in me. Here's Elena Fossi out of Spectra Paris at the Agra:

Spectra Paris are what Client would be if they'd opened the influence-book at 'Hanoi Rocks' instead of 'Kraftwerk'. Here's a video of the first song of their set, complete with the world's longest orchestral intro, and Elton John on the back projection, which I sincerely hope is irony. Note the cheesy supermodel moves, and the mysterious hands which rise up to take a photo about half way through. Those are my hands - I'd recognise 'em anywhere!

Spectra Paris also win the Best Footwear Of The Festival award:

The band just after Spectra Paris at the Agra was Signal Aout 42. Can we say...from the sublime to the ridiculous? Yes, I think we can. A paunchy bloke in wellies shouting aggressively over bangin' beatz - it was grim stuff, believe me. And what was all that stuff he was yelling about 'Women of the Treffen! You are beautiful!' - if that was an attempt to get groupies, I doubt if it worked.

Here is the silver-tounged charmer himself in full effect:

Some of us, of course, don't have to work that hard:

natashameltdown will probably be saying at this moment, 'Hang on - isn't that Riita?' Yes, it is - we met Kari and Riita on the train to Leipzig, and bumped into them at several points around the festival. Here they are with Andi:

As a result of these encounters, I now know all the gossip from Trashfest in Helsinki. I don't quite know how this happened, but think I also agreed to go there next year...

I think it's about time we had a toilet shot. At the Kohlrabizirkus, I discovered that the urinals have been fitted with miniature goals, presumably to encourage gentlemen to aim a bit more carefully. Now I really have seen everything:

And this is the Kohlrabizirkus itself - or, as the venue is known among WGT-ers, 'Madonna's Bra':

As I mentioned last year, Leipzig is steadily being rebuilt, and the old East German architecture is vanishing, year by year. However, I did manage to find a couple of od DDR rooftop signs that have somehow escaped the ruthless makeover.

This one says 'Publicly Owned Furniture Combine Of The German Democratic Republic' - take that, Ikea!

And here's one that says 'Traktor Export'. Somehow, that's a classic. In the west, it often seemed to us that the Eastern Bloc measured its success in tractors:

More rock 'n' roll will follow...just as soon as I've dealt with yet more of those pesky photos...

Leipzig: rock 'n' roll and randomness

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Sun, 18 May 2008 09:15:48 GMT

Our virtual Euro-tour has finally pitched up in Leipzig, via a train from Berlin absolutely stuffed with goths of various persuasions, hues and varieties. Here's an amusing sign at Leipzig hbf, which proves that Deutsche Bahn is down wit' da kidz in da hood. Or something:

[Some nice heavy engineering in that photo, by the way. Note how the massive steel beams that support the station roof seem to rest on one little point. I'm sure the designer did that just to show off.]

One of the encouraging things about the WGT (and, I suspect, about goff-stuff in Germany generally) is that it's big enough for everyone to get a hefty slice of the subcultural pie. There is none of the petty squabbling between sub-scenes, between bleepy-goths and trad-goths, that we sometimes see in the UK - a phenomenon that sometimes reminds me of starlings fighting over the last few crumbs on the bird table. Medievalists and cyberpunks can sit next to each other on a train, bound for the same destination, with a common purpose in mind (even if their soundtracks will be a little different) and it all hangs together just fine.

Of course not everyone goes to Leipzig by train. Some people travel by car, and here's one EBM-mobile I found on the street (note both Andi & me can be seen in the reflection - hey, it's almost ART!):

The phenomenon of putting your fave bands all over your car seems quite common in Germany. In this case, the punchy slogan ('Guns! Fire! Muscle! HATE!') looks a bit silly on a dear little Mitsubishi family hatchback. Surely you'd need a menenacing old Merc for the right kind of effect?

Rather than try to go through my stack of WGT bands in some kind of chronological sequence, I'm going to fling up some rock 'n' roll photos in random order - because that's how they're coming off the memory cards. So, here's the lead singer of Christian Death:

Here is another lead singer of another Christian Death:

The feud between the two Christian Death factions is getting rather silly now. Look at this video of a little local difficulty that erupted during Valor's set, and you'll see what I mean.

Let's restore sanity with a photo of....the Gruftiebahn!

Me at a tram stop, wondering which band to see next:

"Oo you lookin' at?" Grub queue near the Agra:

Meanwhile, inside the Agra, a ~~tall~~ short dark stranger rides into town, his trustly ~~shootin' iron~~ microphone stand at the ready to fill the bad guys full of ~~lead~~ prog-metal masquerading as Classic Old School Goth:

On Sunday I had to make a choice between Marsheaux at the Kohlrabizirkus, or Emilie Autumn at the Schauspielhaus. Much as I like Marsheaux's music, it must be said they're not the most visually arresting of bands - just two girls standing behind a table, basically (previous pix here, if you want to see what I mean). Emilie Autum, on t'other hand, is guaranteed to Give Good Photo. And I had a photo pass!

So, after a short struggle with my conscience, the visuals won out over the audio on this occasion. But, as it turned out, I was glad I'd chosen Emilie. She did an (entirely non-musical) performance that was quite unexpected and genuinely compelling. I'll tell you exactly what she did when I write the review, but for now, here she is, looking quizzical (note her art nouveau clip-on microphone):

Now let's have a couple of people shots. Here's matt_the_mo and na11e1y at the Parkbuhne:

And Andi and morbidfrog at the Agra. Machen Sie mit den blauen Getränken!

More random photographic souvenirs from Leipzig soon. Don't touch that dial...

Marx and Mercs: photos from Berlin

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Fri, 16 May 2008 22:42:56 GMT

Now...how far have we got on our European tour? Ah, yes, we're now in Berlin, where we visited scaryladysarah and Justin, to whom many thanks are due for hospitality, grub and movies. Now here comes my photo essay. This one's a bit long - you click the cut at your own risk!

We'll start with an Art shot. This is the view (almost) from Sarah and Justin's front door. Karl Marx Allee at sunset:

And here we are, in a Berlin bathroom:

Cat shot!

Late night shopping trip. This is a shop selling about 27 billion varieties of earrings:

I've always said that Berlin is a nice spot:

Close to the earring shop, there's a ladies underwear emporium which stocks alarmingly outsize bras in a style which look almost like surgical appliances. I'm not sure what the sign means, but it's probably something like "Phwoar, you know that Jordan? Has she got super billigs or what!"

It's weird food time. Beer flavoured crisps:

Berlin personal transport. Not much in the way of comfort, but you get great economy:

Here's one for the 'now I've seen everything' file. This go-kart has lights and number plates - it's road legal!

Menacing old Merc, lurking like a gangster's getaway car in a side street. Note that it's missing a hubcap and a windscreen wiper - battle scars from bygone skirmishes on the autohahn, no doubt. And what weedy modern hatchback would dare to take on this old bruiser, I ask?

Fun in the park...

Climbing frame frolics...

Of course, we're all old enough to know better, but who cares?

A little way down Kark Marx Allee, we find some imposing apartments originally built for Communist party apparachniks and other favoured heroes of the revolution. They're rather shabby now, but still loom impressively. Once, to live here, meant that you were somebody:

The grand processional route of Karl Marx Allee - originally designed as a kind of Communist Champs Elysses - isn't quite as grand as it once was. This elaborate lamp standard has been chopped off in its prime, and a new top fixed to it by Jubilee clips. Communist design concepts - nil. Capitalist bodge-ups - one.

A few posts ago, I believe we were talking about punk and prog, and how those opposing poles of music are being forced together to make this thing called math rock. In Berlin, they just mash 'em up any old how:

More Berlin entertainment. All night indie electro dance, featuring DJ Noisy Pig. Well, that certainly sells it to me:

Berlin art. This isn't really graffiti - it's art stuff done on paper and then stuck to the wall. Art fly-posting, if you like:

And some more art. Honestly, Berlin just goes from bad to wurst:

Right, then. Next stop - Leipzig, where the rock 'n' roll begins...

T R O N

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Fri, 16 May 2008 05:11:03 GMT

I interrupt my tales of Old Europe with a quick diversion to a Ladytron gig. Yep, after seeing 32 bands in Leipzig, the first thing I did when I got home was...go to a gig.

A lady, yesterday:

Not a great gig for Ladytron, alas. The power to the monitors failed about two thirds in, and the band had to leave the stage. I hung around a bit to see if they'd get things up and running again, but soon it was gone 10pm and nothing seemed to be happening. I saw from the running order on the mixing desk that the gig was scheduled to finish at 10.20 (yes, that early!) so I decided to cut my losses and go home. I don't know if the band was able to finish the gig: I doubt if they could've done more than two or three more songs at best.

Still, I got to see two of my fave Ladytron numbers, 'Blue Jeans' and 'Seventeen', so that was all right. The sound was good until the big brown-out, although I must say that for all their coolness Ladytron have the stage presence of a cardboard box.

Verdict: I'll give it five.

From London to Berlin

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Thu, 15 May 2008 09:32:41 GMT

Well, as I threatened earlier, here comes the first instalment of European Tour photos. Mostly trains, and things seen from trains, this time - so if that's not your bag, blip over this post and the rock 'n' roll will follow shortly.

Ici moi-même, sous la manche:

The pylons of la belle France pass by (and, believe me, there are a lot of pylons in la belle France):

Curiously worded sign in Eurostar toilets. Eurostar have adopted a bizarrely informal tone in all their official communications. It's a bit like being lectured by your mum:

Enfin, we arrive at Bruxelles Midi, or Brussel Zuid, depending on whether you're a Walloon or not.

We hoof it round to the adjacent platform...

...pausing only to admire this enlarged piece of Tintin artwork. Tintin is everywhere in Brussels. He's an all-purpose hero - I suspect because he's quite possibly the only Belgian anybody outside the country actually knows.

Here's our next train, looming in the half-light like a Concorde without wings:

The present rail route into Germany follows the valley of the Moselle river through the Ardennes - an area of steep, forested hills that seem to rise abruptly out of nowhere, and unexpected valleys that open out dramatically, dotted with farms and villages that look like they've been specially placed in position by the Belgian Tourist Board:

Impressive bridge, which curves around the side of a steep hill at Leuven:

Eventually the landscape flattens out into the North European Plain, and the industrial might of Germany comes into view. This is the Volkswagen factory at Wolfsburg, a town specially built in the 1930s to house the factory workers, and named after the self-consciously impressive nickname Hitler invented for himself:

Here's me, brandishing a bottle of water at Köln. Eau de Cologne, geddit?

And before we know it, we're in Berlin. Here's Andi, about to get on the S-bahn at Berlin Hauptbahnhof:

We'll visit Berlin itself in my next post...

Trans Europe Express

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Wed, 14 May 2008 21:55:46 GMT

This was me, about 24 hours ago. Self portrait in Inter-City Express window, Leipzig Hauptbahnhof:

This afternoon, I stepped off a train from Brussels at dear old London St. Pancras. Before that, I was on a train from Frankfurt. Before that, I was on a train from Leipzig. Before that, I was at the Wave Gotik Treffen. And before that, I was in Berlin.

I have tales to tell, I have people to thank, I have shout-outs and hat-tips to do. I also have the inevitable haul of photos to show you. But not just yet.

I've come home to the usual chaos. I have to wade through about four billion emails from people with comedy names offering me genuine fake Rolex watches, catch up with what all those new MySpacers want of me, then skim through a whole load of other people's WGT adventures just in case someone has said something like '...and then we saw Uncle N making a prat of himself after too many schwarzbiers'. Once I've got all that stuff sorted, I'll be able to add my own small noise to the racket of the interweb.

However, just to be going on with...here's a photo from Brussels, about 7 hours ago. Andi and Thomas debate Belgian geography:

And here's a very brief digest of the WGT. Off the top of my head I think I saw 32 bands (including the busking band and two Christian Deaths). The awards are as follows:

Best band of the lot: Psychic TV, who really were summoning spirits on Monday night.

Best new discovery: Militant Cheerleaders On The Move - and I only went to see them because they had a good name.

The coveted 'Well, that was a bit good, wasn't it!' award goes jointly to Spectra Paris and Noblesse Oblige, who can fight over it as they please.

Emilie Autumn gets a special mention for being really quite surprising - and revealing, dare I say it, hidden reserves of substance.

The 'Aaaarrrrgh! Get me out of here!' prize for provoking agony in my very soul goes to Signal Aout 42. My three songs in the photo pit were a teeth-clenchingly grim endurance test when they were on, but I stuck it out. Photographers' etiquette demands that no matter how ghastly the band might be, you're never the first to leave the pit!

I will leave you for now with this shot from Monday night - Genesis P-Orridge pointing at me. Fair gave me a funny turn, so it did:

More will follow, just as soon as my Real Life Re-Connection Procedures are complete...

Out the door

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Tue, 06 May 2008 03:58:22 GMT

I'm about to walk out of the door to get a train...several trains, in fact, starting with the Piccadilly Line, continuing with a Eurostar, and culminating in a Deutsche Bundesbahn ICE.

I'm heading to Berlin, and then Leipzig, where I understand one or two bands are playing. If you're around these fine cities over the next several days, we may bump into each other (anyone up for ein bier in the Speakeasy in Berlin tonight?)

Otherwise....normal service will resume after the break.

Visual stimulation - with guitars

uncle@globalnet.co.uk — Mon, 05 May 2008 07:35:23 GMT

Here come some more extracts from my ever-growing stack of recent gig photos.

Here's a drummer shot. It's not easy to get drummer shots (they're always at the back, behind a pile of hardware) so on the odd occasion I grab a decent-ish one, I like to make the most of it. Alas, this is a flash photo - I could possibly have taken an available-light shot, because the venue lighting was just about adequate. But, just before they started up, the band insisted that half the lighting be turned off. Result: near darkness, and a sudden requirement for flash. Why do bands do that?

Anyway. No silly guess-the-band stuff this time. This is Selfish Cunt at Bardens Boudoir (they really do spell Bardens without an apostrophe):

It's the Ramones! No it's not, it's Los Angeles math rock practitioners Health at the Luminaire:

I'm a little dubious about this 'math rock' thing, by the way. To me, it seems like an acceptable way of saying 'progressive rock' for dodgy punks who don't like to admit they've gone prog. However, Health did some good business. Another flash shot, unfortunately. Low light + band jumping around = photographer has to use flash.

From the same gig, here we see Julian Cope remaining oblivious as a space ship beams down behind him. No it's not, it's the frontman from New York pronkers Skeletons & The Kings Of All Cities. Crazy name, crazy band:

That last one is not a flash shot, by the way. Because the band didn't leap around too much, I was able to get a few available-light pix, which show far more accurately what the gig really looked like.

Why so many bands have this fixation with playing in near darkness (even when there's some fairly decent stage lighting available to use) is a mystery to me. I suppose the bands think that minimal light makes the gig more of a kewl underground experience, or something. Well, maybe it does, but the artificially-lit photos will have all the stark, lifeless quality of a kitchen display in a furniture store. And since more people will see the photos than came to the gig, that will become the visual identity of the band, regardless of how mysterious and cool they contrived to look in real life.

Bands, think about this - and give your photographers a break. Lights on, please!