Posts Tagged ‘The Who’

I Just Can’t Get Enough Spanish Fly: Stewart Home interviewed by Joan Cabot

Tuesday, April 10th, 2012

I did this email interview a few weeks ago for Mondo Sonoro in Spain who mostly cover music but were interested in the translation of my novel Memphis Underground. I figured they’d have had time to run it in Spanish so I might as well run it as I wrote it here now.

Joan Cabot: Memphis underground is the first of your fiction books translated to Spanish, can you tell me more about your previous fictional works and how MU fits into your writing practice?

Stewart Home: My writing generally emerges from my reading, so my earlier novels were a product of my attempts to read in new ways certain strands of British pulp fiction that had interested me when I was 12 or so years old. When I was in my early twenties I started reading through all the books I could lay my hands on by a number of authors as if they constituted a single work. Among the many writers I re-read the one I liked most was Mick Norman (AKA Laurence James), in whose books the the gay hell’s angels were even harder than the straight bikers and whose politics were of the liberal left. The best known of these hacks is James Moffatt AKA Richard Allen who wrote a series of skinhead books.

With this more focused re-reading, what I noticed is that a lot of the authors I’d checked out when I was young repeated plots and sentences and sometimes even paragraphs from one book to the next. So I thought it would be interesting to write fiction about youth cults in which I compressed this process, with every other page being an almost identical sex scene (which made writing the books very easy). I decided to use lots of deliberately repeated words and phrases in a single book.

I was taking different influences and mixing them together. I was aware of the way surrealism and the French nouveau roman had inscribed elements of pulp prose into what were essentially non-linear and highbrow novels. I wanted to take that further and apply Jean Baudrillard’s notions of simulation (it was the eighties) to plot within my books – so they resembled pulp more closely than say the works of Alain Robbe-Grillet but at the same time because they collapsed the repetitious effects of reading a dozen novels by the same pulp author into one book, they effectively deconstructed themselves as fiction and escaped being easily categorised as either art or low brow prose.

Over the course of five very similar novels – Pure Mania, Defiant Pose, Red London, Blow Job and Slow Death – I felt I’d perfected what I wanted to do with this approach to writing. Therefore after completing Slow Death, the last and I’d say my best book using this third person condensed and collapsed pulp style, I wanted to move on. I then decided to do a self-consciously non-linear book about the occult and mind control. My first five books were written in the third person and I wanted to switch to writing in the first person; this really limits what you can do as an author but I figured if the narrator’s personality changed every time he had an orgasm (due to mind control – and there is a lot of sex in the book), then working in the first person wouldn’t be too difficult. Once this book – Come Before Christ and Murder Love – was published, the critics in the UK immediately noticed I’d been influenced by Robbe-Grillet, whereas although he was a major influence in my earlier books the way I worked this through was less obvious and many critics didn’t understand that I was producing a simulacrum of pulp and had no interest in writing pulp books.

Anyway, as I’ve continued to write novels I’ve used different approaches with different books. But until my last anti-novel I stuck with first person narration – in both male and female voices. I’ve tried to structure each book differently. With 69 Things To Do With A Dead Princess I set the book in Aberdeenshire (which is a part of the British Isles not much used as a setting for fiction) and incorporated a lot of capsule book reviews. With Cunt I was self-consciously creating a post-modern variant on the picaresque novel. Whips & Furs was a cut and paste novel where I simply altered two nineteenth-century books and spliced them together to make a work with a more contemporary structure. In many ways that was an editing job since I did very little original writing to produce it. In Down & Out In Shoreditch & Hoxton every paragraph was exactly 100 words long. With Blood Rites of the Bourgeoisie – my most recently published book and written after Memphis Underground – I wanted to make bigger changes to my writing style so I wrote in the second person (which I hadn’t done before – addressing the reader as ‘you’ rather than referring to the narrator as ‘I’) and I used a lot of sampled penis enlargement spam in the text. With Memphis Underground I wanted to structure a book using a classic science-fiction device but at the same time not write sci-fi. So the first half of the book is the events in the life of the narrator six months apart and cut against each other chapter by chapter, and because the narrator has changed his name the reader may not realise straight away that the alternating chapters are about the same person.

Joan Cabot: In the book you write that MU is a book about how housing projects affect people’s life (sorry, it may not be the exact words, but I have to translate the translation…), but I think you talk about a lot more things in the book…

Stewart Home: Obviously Memphis Underground is also about art and London and celebrity and many other things. It is also concerned with writing and how most so-called contemporary literature is old-fashioned and ill-suited to the times in which we live. Of course the book also deals with sex and the idea of death… But there’s no point providing an exhaustive list of the various subjects it covers, including of course train travel in Germany!

Joan Cabot: I think art is in fact the main subject of the book. How will you define your relation with the art world?

Stewart Home: I think that my relationship to the art world is troubled. But at the same time I’m well connected within it, particularly in London, and could be described as an art world insider. It is part of the nature of the art world that no one thinks they are truly inside it, but of course many are. Where I take a different stand from many others is in being more critical of the commodification of culture and in viewing the role of the artist dialectically. Thus because I know disalienation is integral to the communist project, I also understand that to become truly human we have to realise every aspect of what we are – what is sometimes called our ‘species being’. Aside from being social that also means integrating our physical, emotional and intellectual activity. So rather than one person being a brain worker (white collar) and another performing physical labour (blue collar), in a classless society (which will also be one without money and nation states), we’ll all do a bit of everything and have a lot of variety in our lives. To look at the role of the artist in a positive light, it is a deformed prefiguration of how we’ll all be in post-capitalist society. But the artist is also a specialised non-specialist in a commodified gallery system, so you can also look at that role negatively and stress it’s alienation and disconnection from what it is to be truly human.

Joan Cabot:  I always though that art should be indistinguishable from vandalism nowadays…

Stewart Home: There’s not much new in that, it runs through a lot of modernism and post-modernism. Dada was the first worthwhile modernist movement to stress the suppression of art and negation and the negative in general, and I find that preferable to surrealism that mistakenly attempted to realise art rather than treating it as a product of capitalist society. In the second half of the twentieth-century the negative again rose to the surface in art movements ranging from nouveau realisme through Fluxus to auto-destructive art. In the visual arts post-modernism has tended towards a recuperation of this negative attitude and its diversion into commercial ends. Late twentieth-century writers such as William Burroughs and Kathy Acker were on the whole using the negative in more interesting ways than gallery artists.

Joan Cabot: I’m sure you have another idea about the motivations to work against the establishment of modern art, but, isn’t it fun just to piss them off?

Stewart Home: Sure. That’s why I inserted the names of many well-known artists into the penis enlargement spam I appropriated to use in my last book. In New York the piece that got quoted the most was: “7 inches simply isn’t big enough to pleasure the Gorilla Girls.” And while many found that funny, those who make the mistake of taking post-modern art seriously were upset by it.

Joan Cabot:  You’ve written books about utopian artistic movements and punk… Which interest came first? How much of the relation between art & music movements are true and how much just a way to legitimate the music that we like?

Stewart Home: One interest doesn’t really come before the other – although I was into pop music first. I have clear memories from when I was two years old. So I remember some sixties music from the time – but what I mostly heard when I was small wasn’t of much interest to me. Too much of The Beatles and not enough of mod and freakbeat bands such as The Small Faces, The Who, The Downliners Sect, The Creation and The Action. I remember one morning when I was taking the bus to school and all the kids were talking about the news that the Beatles were breaking up. Some of the older children were quite upset but I was one of the younger ones and I really didn’t care about The Beatles and the fact they were breaking up didn’t bother me. The first music that got me really excited was glam rock. I liked T. Rex best of all. I liked it most when they were doing tunes like Get It On And Jeepster. I also liked bands like Slade and The Sweet – and from the USA Alice Cooper and Suzi Quatro. But then just silly songs like Me & You & A Dog Named Boo by Lobo also appealed to me. But after 1973 the quality of glam singles started falling away. So by the time I was 12 I was looking back into the history of pop…. That’s when I discovered old soul records like Tainted Love by Gloria Jones, or You Can’t Sit Down by the Phil Upchurch Combo: and at the same time started digging all the London mod and freakbeat groups of the 1960s….

I came across dada and happenings and pop art when I was about 12, in books to start with. I guess I was into music before that but the two interests both kept growing – with music way ahead until I was about 20. The idea of what art is has changed a lot of the last thirty years – so now you have people talking about pop music and football as art, which didn’t happen in the old days. The most over-hyped relationship between music and the kind of anti- art that interests me is found in discourse around punk, which some pundits claim is situationist inspired. Such claims are ridiculous as I demonstrate in my book Cranked Up Really High. It’s just a way for silly American music journalists to pretend they’re art history professors, and for English cultural studies lecturers to pretend they’re hip… Rock and roll is somewhere else entirely!

Joan Cabot: Do you think that your books are understandable and enjoyable for anybody. I mean, what kind of people is interested in your work? Do you have an audience in mind when you write?

Stewart Home: My books are written for people with a sense of humour. I really enjoy the way they wind up and upset those who are upright and serious about literature and music and art. I tend to scream along to the sound of my keyboard as I type my novels, and I’m very happy when my readers laugh out loud when looking at my books. Intellectuals are a sorry bunch so I don’t expect them to be grooved by my prose.

Joan Cabot: Some of your former fictional books are not translated in Spanish. Do you know if there are plans to do so?

Stewart Home: I guess if Memphis Underground sells well then more of my novels will be translated into Spanish. But I haven’t signed any contracts for more books yet. It’s curious watching which books get translated into what language. I have books in many languages but it was my two full-length non-fiction books – Assault On Culture and Cranked Up Really High – that appeared first in Spanish. Both those and another non-fiction book came out in Italy before a small publisher did one of my novels there. In French, Russian, Finnish, German, Bulgarian, Greek, Croatian etc. I only have novels published. In languages such as Lithuanian, Portuguese (with a Brazilian publisher) and Polish only my non-fiction books are translated. It is very hard to predict what will happen with translations.

Joan Cabot: What are you working on now?

Stewart Home: I recently finished a novel based on the life of one of my relatives who was a famous cat-burglar and prison escaper – he was originally from south Wales but pursed his life of crime in London from the 1940s to the 1970s. That book’s called The Nine Lives Of Ray The Cat Jones. This week I have to install a solo show in a London gallery. But with the nice coverage I’ve been getting for this new translation of Memphis Underground I think I might well spend the summer getting to know some hot Spanish girls very very well… that’s the kind of ‘work’ I like doing best!

Joan Cabot: In the book, you say that you cannot distinguish between England and any other country, but I think that something like MU is in some sense a very British book…

Stewart Home: There are different cultures around the world and what you’ll write in English is going to be different to what you’d write if you were using – for example – Spanish. That said I’m against national borders, not against regional difference. But London is now a very European city. It is much much cleaner than it was when I was a child in the 1960s and 1970s, and with that cleanness it has lost much of its old identity. That said not everything has got worse. The food you can eat in London today is way better than what you got when I was small! The food used to be really terrible but now it’s actually very good if you pick and choose. I’m not sure that Memphis Underground is that British, I think I’m more a product of London, and I find it extremely difficult to identify with the rest of England let alone the rest of the British Isles… My mother was Welsh but came from an Irish family, so we’ve been moving slowly east. I don’t really want to go anywhere, I like London… although it is always nice to have a change and visit somewhere like Barcelona or Bilbao or Valencia or Madrid, or even some of the smaller towns like Burgos or Carmona…

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

Bill Wyman’s Gallery “Art” – Or The Rock Star Considered As A Complete Scumbag

Wednesday, November 23rd, 2011

Aside from The Beatles, The Rolling Stones were pretty much the most tedious British Invasion band of the 1960s. Both these acts lacked the mod flash and live excitement of the way superior Who, Small Faces and Creation; not to mention the raw primitive energy that enabled the likes of The Troggs, The Pretty Things and The Downliners Sect to completely outclass bigger rock and pop names. While Mick Jagger’s staid middle-class mannerisms and absurd attempts at imitating Tina Turner’s high sixties dance moves meant that his glossed lips were forever begging for a mod fist to bust them open, Rolling Stones bass player Bill Wyman proved himself to be the biggest tosser in the group by dating 13 year-old school girl Mandy Smith in the 1980s.

While Whyman’s affair and subsequent marriage to Smith generated a lot of media coverage, he somehow managed to avoid the kind of excoriation heaped upon other kiddie fiddling scumbag pop paedophiles such as Gary Glitter or Jonathan King. That doesn’t necessarily make Wyman better than Glitter or King -  he was just lucky to have been operating from the more powerful position of belonging to one of the very biggest acts in the entertainment business.

Throughout October and November 2011 there has been an exhibition of Whyman’s photographs entitled Second Nature at Rove in London’s Hoxton Square. Like most celebrity exhibitions the show sucks. The selection and presentation of work is incoherent – a mix of music related shots and nature photographs; with stuff such as a portrait of Marc and Bella Chagall thrown in for no good reason (this is the only portrait of a painter).  Wyman is a mediocre photographer and there is little of interest in his nature pictures. For those in thrall to celebrity, his snaps of his fellow Rolling Stones and those around them (Jerry Hall, John Lennon) may hold some interest although overall they are nothing special. Constant privileged access means that there are a couple of lucky shots – but even those pictures showing the Stones looking completely threadbare and worthless (such as a scrawny and bare chested Keith Richard pathetically holding up his fists) pale in comparison to the way the Maysles brothers film Gimmie Shelter explodes Jagger and Company’s empty posturing.

Looking at Second Nature I couldn’t help but feeling I’d seen exactly the same kind of celebrity junk art many times before. Then I remembered I’d not only seen it all before, I’d also written about it for The Big Issue back in the 1990s. What goes around comes around, so rather than saying any more about Wyman – who is a typical Tory supporting rich toe-rag – I can just reproduce what I wrote about celebrity art 14 years ago…. it remains as valid today as it was then!

But first a quick comment on the celebrity art claims made by a pair of academic clowns – Dr John Schofield and Dr Paul Graves-Brown – as reported by the BBC yesterday. The Beeb quotes these ejits as saying: “The tabloid press once claimed that early Beatles recordings discovered at the BBC were the most important archaeological find since Tutankhamun’s tomb. The Sex Pistols’ graffiti in Denmark Street surely ranks alongside this and – to our minds – usurps it.” The Beatles and The Sex Pistols both contributed massively to ruining rock and roll – the success of these fifth rate acts led many others to imitate everything that was bad about them.

Schofield and Graves-Brown are reported as dating all the Sex Pistols graffiti from 1975. If this is in fact the case it illustrates nicely why they are archetypal academic idiots: one piece of graffiti features Nancy Spungen and it wouldn’t take much research to discover Johnny Rotten (who allegedly did the cartoons) wouldn’t have known what she looked like until she arrived in London in 1977. Thus this part of the ‘art’ either dates from at least a couple of years after 1975, or else it isn’t by Rotten. Of course, it also remains possible that none of the graffiti is by Rotten and it is not anything like 36 years old. Judged on what the Beeb report Schofield and Graves-Brown as saying, it would take someone with considerably greater historical and archaeological skills than they possess (zero basically) to determine the provenance of this work.

And after that detour here’s my old article about celebrities and art.

THE ANTIQUES ROADSHOW

Throughout the swinging sixties a good many young people imagined that they belonged to the first generation that could do anything, which mostly meant being a bohemian. Although no longer far out and fabulous, sixties has-beens still cling to the belief that it is possible to do one thing today, and another tomorrow. The sheer number of once beautiful people who’ve waddled onto the gallery circuit in recent years is proof of a tenacious, if largely misplaced, belief in their own creative capacities.

Thirty years ago, self-important groovy people like David Bowie and the recently dead Allen Ginsberg were inspired to mix different art forms by the burgeoning ‘happenings’ movement. More recently, mixed-media experimentation has given way to self-indulgence, with sixties stars attempting to revitalise their celebrity status through exhibitions of paintings. Most pop icons who’ve made credible art works did so at the height of their fame, through a marriage of music, theatre and painting. Attempts by former members of the glitterati to reinvent themselves as artists are rarely successful.

Sixties movie icon David Hemmings shot to fame when he starred in the Antonioni film Blow Up. This portrait of swinging London included a scene where a game of tennis was played without a ball. Eclectic Similarities by Hemmings, a solo art show which opens this week at London’s Osborne Studio Gallery, promises to be considerably more pedestrian. Working in the highly traditional mediums of pen, pencil and water-colour, the faded luvvie now finds artistic inspiration in what Pimm’s swilling toffs still call ‘the season’. Occasionally broadening his horizons beyond Henley, Lord’s, Ascot and Goodwood, Hemmings has also knocked out some London townscapes and a series of pictures on the theme of magic. However, it’s with the storyboards from his film and tv production credits, including The A Team, that he finally manages to scrape the bottom of his threadbare barrel. Don’t expect any surprises, Hemmings doesn’t have it in him to fling a pot of paint in the public’s face.

Infinitely superior to Eclectic Similarities is Brian Eno’s current show Music For White Cube, running at London’s White Cube gallery until 31 May. Eno being Eno, it comes as no surprise that there is nothing to see in this exhibition. Instead, there is a room of randomly generated ‘ambient’ music, something the former Roxy Music star pioneered in the late-sixties. In the words of White Cube, ‘the installation consists of four CD stations each playing a specially cut CD containing between eight and sixteen tracks. The CD players are set to ‘shuffle’ mode, thereby selecting tracks at random, to produce a landscape of sound that continually remakes itself.”

Don’t be put off by the po-faced promotion, the work is a lot more interesting than the press release implies. After all, Eno has a great sense of fun. He is rightly notorious for having relieved himself in the dadaist ready-made Fountain – an ordinary urinal that artist Marcel Duchamp signed R. Mutt and then submitted for exhibition.

Considerably less successful are the paintings and sculpture of Eno’s fellow glam rocker David Bowie. Some of these were shown a couple of years ago under the title New Afro/Pagan and Work 1975-1995 at Chertavia Fine Art in London. Bowie’s pictures were a mixture of expressionistic squibs and fantasy figures set against an underlay of Laura Ashley wallcoverings. With his usual aplomb, Bowie admitted in the accompanying brochure ‘in neither music nor art have I a real style, craft or technique. I just plummet through on either a wave of euphoria or mind-splintering dejection.’

Beyond the obvious financial rewards, one is left wondering why Bowie bothers himself with creative matters. The same might be said of actor Tony Curtis, who is currently showing his sub-Cubist paintings in Cannes. The Berlin based art curator Berthold Golomstock is currently putting together an exhibition of social realist style paintings by original Stones guitarist Brian Jones, to be toured internationally in 1999.

Art exhibitions by long forgotten sixties stars are likely to become an increasingly common feature of the cultural landscape. Former teen icons suffering from middle-aged spread find painting landscapes on a Sunday afternoon a considerably less demanding pursuit than making innovative music and films.

First published in The Big Issue #233, May 19-25 1997.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

1970s nightmares part 2: forgotten bands, hopeless causes & the search for the missing chord

Tuesday, July 28th, 2009

Despite the recently fashionable status of the Bethnal Green area in east London, this has to date failed to lead to a revival of interest in the 1970s band who named themselves after the hood. Bethnal were formed in Bethnal Green in 1972, and sounded like a cut-price Who minus the vocal skill of Roger Daltrey and the songwriting talent of Pete Townshend. I saw Bethnal at The Marquee in Wardour Street on Thursday 24 August 1978 and had a  good night out. Bethnal had plenty of energy but beyond their deployment of a violin, there was nothing very memorable about them. They simply weren’t as good as the other bands I saw at The Marquee that month: The Vibrators on Monday 14  August 1978 and Ultravox! (when John Foxx was still the vocalist) on Tuesday 22 August 1978. I caught plenty of other bands that August too, at venues all around London…  Bethnal were simply another night out on the town.

At some point after that Marquee gig, I pulled Bethnal’s first album Dangerous Times out of a bargain bin. It’s bog standard seventies Brit rock. The opener Out In The Street (not the tune of the same name from the first Who album) sounds like a second-rate Pete Townshend song covered by a boogie band, but it’s still enjoyable. The best tracks are covers of We’ve Gotta Get Out Of This Place and Barba O’Reilly, but while acceptable they’re not as good as the originals… And other tracks like Who We Gonna Blame are seriously let down by the vocals. Bethnal’s second and final album Crash Landing was not at all to my taste, since it veers much more in the direction of stadium rock and prog, so even when I came across bargain bin copies of this swansong recording, I left them lying where I found them.

One reason for mentioning Bethnal is because I’ve been enjoying John Eden’s series of blogs at Uncarved about uncool gigs he attended as a teenager. The ninth and most recent in the series is about him going to see The Mission in 1987. Eden appears to have ticket stubs and other memorabilia to jog his memory, whereas I’m relying on internet research to date the gigs I went to 30 and more years ago. I’m a bit older than Eden and I seem to have been more hardcore about my gig going from an earlier age. I liked a lot of seventies new wave and punk acts and among my early live experiences can list The Stranglers, The Damned and The Clash. I hate to admit it but the first band I ever saw was The Jam, and that was sometime before they had a record contract. For me, more interesting than these ‘name’ acts are those who never made it. One of the best bands in this latter category is Burlesque, a jazz rock combo with new wave trimmings, who like Bethnal managed to release a brace of albums that have yet to be reissued on CD.

According to the Billy Jenkins Webzine Burlesque were: “Selected as the ‘Band Most Likely To Succeed’ in both the tabloid Sun and Melody Maker at the end of ’76, it took a flying visit from America by music business legend Clive Davis to sign the band to Arista Records.” I don’t like the construction of that sentence, but I presume an article hosted on a former Burlesque band member’s website will be factually accurate. All I can say is he and his band-mates in Burlesque cracked me up with songs like Steel Appeal (about being sexually turned on by people in wheelchairs). Better yet, Burlesque saxophonist Ian Trimmer wore a tatty army jacket with ‘Bird Lives’ sprayed punk-style across the back; even at the age of 15 I knew that ‘Bird’ was jazz legend Charlie Parker. Making things even more surreal, the one time I saw Burlesque Paul Weller of The Jam was in the sparse audience. That said, Weller was obviously present to check out support act The Pleasers, who were Merseybeat revivalists replete with collarless Beatles’ jackets. The Pleasers even had their own one band musical movement – Thamesbeat!

I caught Burlesque and The Pleasers at some college (can’t recall which one) at some point in 1977, and it is curious to recall some of the acts I saw in the late-seventies that no one I know talks about any more. For instance, I subjected myself to Nina Hagen at The Lyceum, but I’m not sure if this was in 1978 or a bit later. I guess people still rave about Hagen in Germany, but she hasn’t been of much interest to UK based hipsters for the past 30 years. She made her initial international impact with a German language cover of the new wavish Tubes’ song White Punks On Dope, done with re-written lyrics as TV-Glotzer. In the early/mid-eighties Hagen made tunes like New York with disco legend Giorgio Moroder acting as producer, and for me that collaboration is the most notable thing about her.

I don’t like Hagen’s voice, so I’ve no idea why I went to see her circa 1978 – I can only assume there was some other act on the bill that I wanted to catch. I can’t remember where I saw Hagen’s one-time boyfriend, the Dutch rocker Herman Brood, but it may have been on a multi-act bill with his consort of that era. Brood is Holland’s most famous rock ‘n’ roll junkie, but I haven’t heard mention of him in London  for years, despite his 2001 jump from the roof of the Amsterdam Hilton Hotel leading to saturation media coverage of his suicide and subsequent funeral in The Netherlands.

Back in the late-seventies I used to  see a lot of bands and my tastes were very varied. I would catch Sham 69 one night and Wire the next; groove to The Vapors on Saturday then freak-out with Gloria Mundi or The Virgin Prunes on Sunday… I even saw Motorhead, but I much preferred The Pirates! Having started out as Johnny Kidd’s backing band, The Pirates had been around since the late-fifties. On record they weren’t bad, although I didn’t really bother with their vinyl, I just liked them live… and in 1978 you’d have been just as likely to find me at a Pirates or Wilko Johnson gig as at a punky-reggae party. I was also going to see British reggae bands like Steel Pulse, Aswad, Misty In Roots and Matumbi. Since I much preferred small clubs to concert halls, I didn’t bother with visiting Jamaican acts although I liked their sounds. The Lyceum Ballroom in The Strand was the biggest place I went to with any regularity. I only ever went to The Hammersmith Odeon once, to see Lou Reed in 1979, and I considered the experience shitty.

Out of the stew of music I caught live 30 and more years ago, it is curious to see what’s disappeared. Amazingly, bands like The Pleasers made it onto CD in the late-nineties, whereas as far as I know the output of Burlesque and Bethnal has never been reissued on that format…

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org – you know it makes (no) sense!

Stewart Home answers 38 questions from Catalonia

Sunday, July 26th, 2009

5 years ago Kiko Amat wrote a big feature on me for  La Vanguardia, Spain’s biggest selling paper.  A couple of days ago he emailed me 38 questions saying: “…we’ve started a new series of Q&A to people we like or we feel inspired by. It’s a very simple Q&A, very Guardian Weekend like, but we find it very telling. And amusing too.” Since my answers will be published in translation, I thought I’d share them with English speaking readers here.

Q. When were you happiest?
A. This morning.

Q. What is your greatest fear?
A. The US hardcore punk band Fear – I’m not a huge hardcore fan but I do like Fear’s I Don’t Care About You and I Love Living In The City. The only thing to fear is fear itself.

Q. What is your earliest memory?
A. Being on a ferry boat going to The Isle of Wight in 1964 when I was 2 years old. It was raining and there was a striped awning over the passenger deck. This may not be my earliest memory, I have a lot of memories of central London from the same period, but this stands out because I often went on the tube into central London as a small child, but going on a boat was more unusual.

Q. Which living person do you most admire and why?
A. Myself. Everyone should admire themselves most…

Q. What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
A. My modesty.

Q. What is the trait you most deplore in others?
A. No sense of humour.

Q. Where would you like to live?
A. London in the 1960s.

Q. In what historical time would you have liked to have lived?
A. 1960s/70s London but as an adult so I could have seen bands like The Who and The Creation at small clubs in the mid-1960s.

Q. What would your superpower be?
A. Bullshitting but since I already got that one, maybe I could get to sing as good as Aretha Franklin too!

Q. What makes you depressed?
A. Ignorance and stupidity.

Q. Ever been in a fight?
A. Lots of them when I was teenage. But the best fighters don’t need to fight, as Bruce Lee demonstrates early on in Enter The Dragon; I’m a real fan of the art of fighting without fighting.

Q. Would you kill?
A. I’d prefer not to kill, but there are circumstance in which it could be unavoidable. I’m vegetarian but not a pacifist.

Q. Who would play you in the biopic of your life?
A. Pamela Anderson.

Q. Make a list of 4 or 5 favorite books.
A. Tainted Love, 69 Things To Do With A Dead Princess, Slow Death and Blood Rites of the Bourgeoisie (published next year); all by me, of course!

Q. Make a list of 4 or 5 favorite records.
A. The Electrifying Eddie Harris; Link Wray, Walking With Link; Lee Perry, Scratch The Upsetters Again; Willie Mitchell, Ooh Baby, You Turn Me On; The Real Kids, The Real Kids. All albums.

Q. Vinyl, CD or MP3?
A. Vinyl for dub reggae and heavy dance grooves that depend on the bass, CDs for pop & rock & Motown, MP3 for convenience (but non-proprietorial OGG format is better than MP3, if only everyone would use it).

Q. Make a list of 4 or 5 favorite films.
A. At Midnight I’ll Take Your Soul (Coffin Joe), Last Year At Marienbad (Alain Resnais), Female Prisoner 701 Scorpion: Beast Stable (Shunya Ito), Persona (Ingmar Bergman), Succubus (Jess Franco).

Q. What is your favorite smell?
A. Coffee.

Q. What is your favorite food?
A. Curry.

Q. What is your favorite drink?
A. Coffee, espresso naturally.

Q. Where do you stand politically?
A. Left.

Q. What do you most dislike about your appearance?
A. My nose (could be smaller – scaled to the same level as my ego would be great – but I guess it ain’t all bad, coz you know what they say about men with big noses and big feet….).

Q. What is your guiltiest pleasure?
A. Seeing my name in print.

Q. What do you owe your parents?
A. I got my good looks and sharp mind from my mother…

Q. Who would you invite to your dream party?
Pamela Anderson, Naomi Campbell, Carmen Electra, Angela Mao, Jennifer Lopez, Meiko Kaji… and Soledad Miranda if she could be brought back to life looking as beautiful as she did on 17 August 1970.

Q. Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
A. A groove sensation…

Q. If you could edit your past, what would you change?
A. A few bad decisions about which bands to go and see when I was still at school in 1976/1977 and didn’t have enough money to get in to all the gigs I wanted. Around May 1977 I should have gone to see The Ramones rather than The Stranglers…. But I saw both bands other times. Also I’d change getting turned away from gigs in 1976/1977 for being under 18 and would have seen the shows I missed, which  included one by The Stranglers in January 1977. Being pissed off over getting turned away from that Stranglers show was what made me decide to go and see them and not The Ramones in May 1977.

Q. When did you last cry, and why?
A. When I got these questions coz it made me so happy knowing I’d see my name in print again in Catalonia!

Q. How do you relax?
A. With coffee or a work out!

Q. What is the closest you’ve come to death?
A. I had a near death experience in the Bethnal Green Museum of Childhood in the winter of 1984. I went in there to rest from the cold coz I didn’t have a regular place to live and was staying with different friends. It felt like I was propelled out of my body on this silver chord into a lot of golden light. I thought I was dying and it was a very happy experience. But then a museum guard shook me and asked if I was alright. It took a while to ground myself after that.

Q. What do you consider your greatest achievement?
Leaving the Bethnal Green Musuem of Childhood alive, despite croaking seeming like such a great option when I had that near death experience there in 1984.

Q. What keeps you awake at night?
A. Coffee.

Q. What song or songs would you like played at your funeral?
A. Burn, Baby, Burn by Mel Williams and Disco Inferno by The Trammps.

Q. Where would you most like to be right now?
A. Riba-roja d’Ebre.

Q. What is your most treasured possession?
A. My mother’s fashion model portfolio photographs and press clippings.

Q. How would you describe yourself?
A. A groove sensation!

Q. How would you like to be remembered?
A. As the first man to commit adultery on Mars (but I’d have to get married to do that and marriage ain’t really my thing).

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – www.stewarthomesociety.org - you know it makes (no) sense!

Unbelievable Hot Music Sex (More EFM than EMF)

Thursday, January 8th, 2009

So today I fell through a wormhole and was asked by the Fabulous FAB (“Thunderbirds Are Go”, but no Bomb The Bass here) to open up my music player, let 10 random songs play and then blog about them. Well I’d been having some problems with my MP3 player and had to reinstall the software before doing this (and wipe everything off it first) and I kinda cheated by only putting ten songs on before doing this, I’ll get more on now…. But here are my 10 “random” songs:

1.  “Morning Way” by Trader Horne – acid folk at its very best, the title track of the duo’s only album – and what a combination: sometime Fairport Convention member Judy Dyble and Jackie McAuley ex-guitarist with Them and Belfast Gypsies (dig all that stuff Kim Fowley produced for the Gypsies, but especially “People Let’s Freak Out”). Well Trader Horne couldn’t last but this is just fabulous, those vocal harmonies have me in ecstasy, and if you tell me this is fey I’ll kick you….

2. “Quiet Days In Clichy II” by Country Joe McDonald. Yeah, the title track to the legendary Jens Jorgen Thorsen screen adaptation of the Henry Miller book. The film is one of the finest examples of Situationist detournement ever (Thorsen was a member of the 2nd Situationist International) and one of my favourite movies of all time. Country Joe is good, nice little tune over which he sings filth.”

3. “Purified By The Fire” by Henry Flynt. Personally I can’t get enough of radical avant-garde hillbilly music and Flynt does us proud on that front. He knew all the names in the New York scene of the sixties, being close to La Monte Young, Tony Conrad, Jack Smith and others, but went his own way as a result of his interesting critique of art andserious culture. He also stood in for John Cale at some Velvet Underground performances when the Welshman was sick. There is an interview with Flynt up on my website at -   http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/interviews/flynt.htm – but this is about activities other than his music. But check the music, it is great!

4. “Get Your Tits Out” by Heavy Metal Outlaws. On this MillwallRoi Pearce formerly ‘singer’ with failed early eighties British skinhead band The Last Resort tried to make a nineties come back by crossing heavy metal with rap – and it doesn’t hold up against real talent like Run DMC, but it is funny. One of the worst records ever made: “Ever since I was eight years old I was a fan of the centre-fold, girl’s good looking andshe’s got class, I stick my cock right up her arse, my mate’s doing time or so I heard, so I’m going round there to shag his bird, bend me break anyway you take me all you gotta do is masturbate me, come on the heat I’m a sex machine, I’m really going down like a submarine, tits out for the boys, get your tits out for the boys… fuck you, fuck you, fuck you…”

5. “Why Don’t You Smile Now” by The Downliners Sect. This is from the third album “The Rock Sect’s In” by this legendary sixties British freakbeat band. For this platter they bought in a few songs from Tin Pan Alley tunesmiths, this one being knocked out by Lou Reed and John Cale; and it’s actually what the Velvet Underground would have sounded like if they’d been good. The Sect were also the first to do another Tin Pan Alley song “Hang On Sloopy”, but they decided it wasn’t strong enough to release as a single – so it was The McCoys who had the international smash with it despite recording and putting it out after the Sect had got there first….

6. “So Greedy” (remix) by 999. What a difference a producer makes! This is produced by Vic Maile and as an indie release actually sounds a lot better than anything Nick Cash andco. did when they were on the major UA label. For comparison purposes check out the difference in the three singles punk band Satan’s Rats put out, with the Maile produced “You Make Me Sick” standing head and shoulders above the other two. I saw 999 at least a dozen times in London in the late-seventies, just coz all the punks went to see them, and they were never that great. But the “Concrete” album this appeared on in the original mix has some other great tunes (and some not so good ones), but their version of “Fortune Teller” is a gas.

7. “N-E-R-V-O-U-S” by Trash. Another A1 production job, this time by legendary American maverick Shel Talmy, the man behind the early Kinks and Who sound. This is just fabulous, I bought this and the first Trash single “Priorities” when they came out, after seeing the band (who I recall as being from Reading) playing on a multi-bill event at some London suburban university. Power pop doesn’t get any better than this! There were a lot of great British pop records that came out in the late-seventies and didn’t make the charts, and I particularly love this one.

8. “You’ll Always Be In Style” by Sidney Barnes. A non-hit from the Red Bird label, and a classic example of stomping sixties soul. “Everybody do the jerk and the monkey too, but by this time next year there’ll be something new… you know the clothes we’re wearing are changing every day, what was new in December will be out by May…. but I wanna tell you sweet honey child, you’ll always be in style…” This was one of the Divine birthday CDs… and I’ve been playing it a lot ever since getting it as a gift from Andrew Divine….

9. “Street Tuff” by Rebel MC. I loved this from the first moment I heard it. Yeah it might be a pop record but the MC knows exactly what he’s doing and went on to respect on the Jungle scene, not a trick easily achieved by someone who has had a massive pop hit. Back when I was leaving school in 1978 we used to talk about liking EFM (standing for extra fast music) and this is really fast, and wonderful mix of reggae, hip hop and rapping… Great tune too. Grooves don’t come any better than this! Can’t believe it’s already about twenty years old!

10. “Memphis Underground” by S.O.U.L. Yeah, the Herbie Mann original is great, but so is this, and unfortunately I don’t have a copy of the Roy Ayres version of the tune (anyone wanna get me an MP3 of that?). This is also the title of a novel I had out a couple of years ago. It comes from the band’s first album “What It Is”, and what a platter! Check the cover of “The Ghetto” which is every bit as good as the original, and the same goes for “Express Yourself” or “Message From A Black Man”. And what about tracks like “Burning Spear”? This is just one track from an absolutely crucial rare groove album. This tune is great but you need the whole platter.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/ – you know it makes (no) sense!

A Technicolor Dream

Tuesday, January 6th, 2009

This 2008 DVD is a TV-style talking head documentary that mainly covers the early years of stadium rock band Pink Floyd, and inadvertently reveals how they used the British counterculture to hitch a ride to success. The Floyd themselves come across like a bunch of talentless drama students in the pathetic promo films that are cut into the main feature. Sound wise they vary from seeming like a pleasant if not entirely convincing imitation of The Who (“Arnold Lane”), all the way down to prefiguring a lot of really bad indie bands (“Scarecrow”). There is also some far more interesting archive material on here, but most of it is rather too familiar. There is the famous footage of Beatle John Lennon walking into the “14 Hour Technicolor Dream” at Alexandra Palace (29 April 1967), which anyone actually interested in this sort of thing will have seen dozens of times.

Likewise, did we really need quite so much recycled footage from “Wholly Communion” directed by Peter Whitehead, when the BFI reissued that on DVD in 2007, and anyone who hasn’t seen it clearly isn’t interested in the British counterculture anyway. There is a very brief piece of footage of The Flies playing at Alexandra Palace, but while the BBC “Man Alive” documentary made at the time showed them throwing flour at the audience and allowed you to hear them rockin’ out, pretty much all you get here is a shot of their drum kit with something else dubbed over the top. This is a shame because The Flies were the business, and self-evidently a lot better than Pink Floyd live; presumably this is why the director Stephen Gammond cut their sound from the audio track, he clearly wants to big up original Floyd frontman Syd Barrett and takes many historical liberties to achieve this. There is some footage of The Pretty Things doing “LSD” here too, but this is cut around talking head shots, so you can’t enjoy the music in all it’s glory. Worse yet, while three really tedious Floyd promo shorts are included in their entirety as bonus features, live footage of The Pretty Things and The Flies isn’t accorded the same treatment.

Among the historical turns, we get far too much of Suzy Creamcheese, less than nothing is all I want of this twerp. Like so much else here that doesn’t come from “Wholly Communion”, the Creamcheese footage is culled from the earlier “Man Alive” documentary, and it is even more irritating on a tenth or eleventh viewing than on the first or second! That said, there is some nice pushin’ and shovin’ with the filth going down in the recycled shots of early sixties CND demos. However, the real highlight begins on the last fraction of a second of this movie’s sixty-second minute. Gammond has included 1.04 seconds of archive footage featuring my mother – Julia Callan-Thompson – blowing bubbles. While there is equally brief footage of her at the UK’s premier hippie happening in the “Man Alive” documentary, it is a different shot to the one used here. My mother, at 23 years of age, is clearly the hottest babe in the place! While this film would be much better if Gammond had devoted more time to footage of my mother, the little you get makes the disk worth buying. You can see a bit more of her in the audience at the Alex Trocchi/William Burroughs 1969 ‘State of Revolt’ Arts Lab event covered in Jamie Wadhawan’s “Cain’s Film” – and, of course, as an extra in various British and Bollywood movies of the sixties.

With the odd exception, the talking heads on Gammond’s documentary are a real snore fest. Tired old stories I’ve heard trotted out dozens of times are aired yet again. This film was obviously made on a shoe-string, there isn’t nearly enough archival footage to break up the tedium of the talking heads, and sometimes in a desperate bid to move things along the director simply cuts to recent footage he’s shot in Portobello Road and Camden. The focus on Pink Floyd and John “Hoppy” Hopkins as central to the counterculture is reductive, and also very boring. If Gammond had instead adopted a scatter-shot approach to the underground, one that pulled in a varied cast of characters, his film would have been both more enjoyable and closer to the psychedelic experience. Regardless, and as I’ve already said, it is still worth seeing just for that 1.04 seconds of my mother blowing bubbles at the “14 Hour Technicolor Dream”.

And while you’re at it don’t forget to check – http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/ – you know it makes (no) sense!

And some more specific links:

Julia Callan-Thompson:
http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/rhhm.htm

The ‘real’ psychedelic scene:
http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/praxis/voices.htm

Wholly Communion etc. review:
http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/film/whitehead.htm

Trocchi/Burroughs State of Revolt:
http://www.stewarthomesociety.org/luv/splinters.htm