I Did A Line Of Coke With Richard Hell (While Patti Smith Introduced Me To Her Son)

Tonight i saw Patti Smith lead the service to a segregated crowd in a courtyard which echoed with her voice right up to the glass ceiling. Tonight i saw Richard Hell push his hair back from his face, and make a grab at untucking an oversized vneck t-shirt from his one size too big suit.

Tonight i saw Patti Smith recite a poem to the moon which worked despite itself. Tonight i saw Richard Hell make me laugh with bad acting in a terrible film he made 18 years ago which worked despite itself. Tonight i saw crowds of aetheists clapping evangelistically in time as Patti Smith recited the second sutra of Allen Ginsbergs howl "holy holy holy" changing the words to 'holy is Madrid' like Ice T when we were 14 and he said 'Born Black, born white, born yellow, born in BRYCETON' even though we were in brighton.
Tonight i saw richard hell shamble through improvised versions of songs he wrote too long ago with a guitarist who was a mate of the people who organised the gig.
Tonight i saw a middle aged man who grew up with punk stand
mouth open with admiration as patti introduced her flat capped wearing son jackson on guitar.

I love honesty in music but i think it's a sham. I've always loved the way that richard hell showed this and exploited it and made the most out of it without loosing faith in the effect it has, despite the act. I love how patti buys into the whole hippy thing and people fall at her feet mesmerised. I love how people still come out of richard hell gigs muttering what the fuck was that. I can't choose between them, i wouldn't want to. I'm happy knowing that between me and them lies an ocean 20 leagues across and that they are both stars, glued onto the ceiling with the roof and the sky and the galaxy beyond.

Static

"I'm like a Black Republican/ no cant call it that/ More like a Black Democrat/ Barack Obama i'm down with that."
- Juelz Santana

http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2008/mar/18/barackobama.uselections20081

Of Mice and Men

If there was one thing, one thing i was going to do no matter what this month, more than buy pot plants for all the people whose floors i've been staying on over the last 3 months (yes, i know), was go into a shop and pay money for Third. Not, download it, copy it, get it sent free, but BUY IT...

So i'm listening to it now and it's giving me a headache.

and making me feel guilty.

fuck you soulseek. you are the devil child of the headphones in Our Price.

Totally

What i'm thinking is:
Is collecting, buying, professing interest in twee lo-fi plinky plonky casio music equal to buying those 'bad day' kitten posters? I'm listening to Totally Micheal right now. Death hill Over and Over is the song that you hear in your head when you watch emilo estevez' dance in the Breakfast Club with the sound off. There's also a song about Winnona Ryder, with the line 'even though i'm not a high class retail outlet, i'd love for you to steal my heart' Twee? easy? lazy? yeah. But for a quick sugar rush you cant really beat it. The problem comes when your ipod get's wiped accidentally, and a 'friend' fills the fucker with shit like mgmt and nobody without letting you listen first.

www.myspace.com/totallymicheal

Easter

I sort of still believe in the easter bunny. do you know what i mean?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZT5LR55RBio

The Good, The Bad and The Folky

It really is like Bonnie prince bily and Matt Sweeny and Baby Dee just got together in this freak folk vigillante posse, and decided to run those young devendra banhart/ coco rosie punks out of town.
After they send the vagrants off crying they sit around the saloon going back to their card games and bourbon. Baby Dee sits down at the piano and improvises a rag about the whole thing while thurston moore sits in the corner with a sourpuss face because although they let him drink in the same bar, everytime he tries to join in their card games, they make some joke about madonna. Then Baby Dee flashes her tits at him and he gets all embarassed.

All this is heading to where i talk about the Baby Dee album, which unless the cover art is spectacular and theres a shot of her crotch or something you’re not going to buy. It’s a shame bacause its one of those records you need to listen too say more than once in your life before it gets buried on your hard drive.


I really like the current 93 stuff, but david tibet has got this annoying fucking habit of making similies really obvious. Like, “The Whirls of Laughter, like Whirlpools” Really David? you didn’t work so hard on that one did you?

But really neither you or i give a fuck about a bit of halfarsed lyric writing when his record have more talent on them than a Chinese secondary school.
The best song is the one about albinos (is she an albino?) and there isn’t a bad one. Andrew W fucking K is on it somewhere as well, drumming, or philosophising or something. It’s strange how everything he said a few years ago sounded like blah blah stoner logic, but now he’s some kind of a guru. Maybe he always was and what do i know.

So now the Wild West New Freak Folk Posse are riding down into your town on tour, and unless you’ve fucking earned that beard, i’d shave it off before you venture onto their turf.

www.myspace/theonlybabydee