Tuesday 4 September 2018

Fake News and Karaoke (fifteenth letter to Lowri)


Rewind to 5pm Friday 13th July: The Anti-Trump demo was fun, but I must confess I didn’t enjoy it as much as that anti-Trump march when we walked together. I took the mini-Trump-a-ninny heads with movable mouths and blacked out demonic soulless eyes which Akin had cut out in the Peer Hat from flyers and posters for a play at the Kings Arms. As I walked around looking for familiar faces, I articulated the Trump mouths as I did a passable impression of his whiny creepy voice saying mostly, “Fake News! Fake News!” Nearly everyone laughed and those who laughed the most got a “Little Rocket Man” and “I’m a very stable genius!” I fake newsed a woman being interviewed and filmed by hiding behind her banner so that only the hideous Trump head could be seen on camera. She cracked up and turned round to see the Trump head and laughed even more. The people who liked the fake news most got a free mini-Trump to take home and torture until I’d exhausted my Trump supply. The only man who didn’t laugh was a dour communist selling his anti-capitalist wares at a table. I suspect he was in disapproval of the anarchy A I’d scrawled on Trump’s orange bonce. I met my friend Jessica Flavell and we hung out for a while whilst Dave Haslam played “We Don’t Need That Fascist Groove Thang” and “Get Up Stand Up Don’t Give Up the Fight” and some other music that neither of us would choose to listen to at home. I was in the mood for a bit of punk rock really. “I’m So Bored of The USA” Clash karaoke would have done just fine: “Trump is a moron, he’s always on TV, ‘cos fascists in America work seven days a week!” Another Haslam, Chris from Gnod, sashayed gaily by sporting a stylish red “Just Say No to the Psycho Right-Wing Capitalist Fascist Industrial Death Machine” T-shirt. They probably should have asked him to DJ instead of Dave Haslam! Then we might have got some Nirvana, Joy Division, Can and Motorhead. Anti-frackers Julian and Amy S Olive said hi. I got nearer the stage to watch some Mexican dancers then my MP Kate Green did a hellfire speech against the evil of Trump, but it was like teaching a grandmother to suck lovely eggs. Why do grandmothers suck eggs? The best speaker was a former US serviceman who called Trump an asshole to huge cheers. By then I’d met the Vanishing Gareth Smith, Breaking Colt Joanna Maylott and Polythene Snake Kate Themen. The angry American asked us to all link arms in solidarity with the person next to us so I linked arms with Kate who linked arms with Jojo who linked arms with Gareth. The clouds cried again and drenched the last couple of speakers. The Universe itself had enough Credit to try to wash the evil of Trump right out of the Square. I rushed off to the Ritz to see The Breeders, where Kelley Deal had been kind enough to put me on the guestlist. IT’S TRUE!!

At the Ritz I met Ben Ryles at the bar whilst support band Pip Blom bounced around… here the tape has been partially erased and just the muffled voice of Kim Deal singing, “I am the sun, I am the New Year, IT’S TRUE!” can be heard. A slow motion process of digital recovery has been instigated. The print out’s blocked…
I really didn't expect to find my Hotpants Romance bag and Melt Banana T-shirt at a Zombie Shack gig by a New Order tribute band late on Friday night, getting friendly with some nice European ladies of Unknown Pleasures. I arrived in the middle of “Blue Monday,” and stuck around to dance to the “Ceremony.” There was a pleasant “Atmosphere” and a bit of “Temptation.” Serial bootlegger Alex Staszko even recorded it and cheekily laughed at my Ian Curtis dance! True Order had the tunes down but their vocal impressions needed a bit of extra karaoke practice. I told them that the first band I ever saw play a gig was New Order. IT’S TRUE!

The choices of songs at Scary-oke karaoke were not as cool as their flyer suggested they might be, but that’s the choice of the karaokists. I chose “All Stood Still” by Ultravox, certainly the most apocalyptic song of the night and it seems to me to be a topical dystopian warning for the state of the nation as our increasingly incompetent, corrupt and evil government ruins everything with the swill of the people. All the Midge Ure lyrics were there on the screen but half the Chris Cross words were missing in action so I had to ad lib a bit. Next up was The Cure “Love Cats” but the karaokist who chose it had fled into the night. Someone shouted for everyone to sing it so we all got on stage to get wonderfully wonderfully pretty and know that we’d do anything for you. Halfway through I snatched the mic off someone who wasn’t singing loud enough and finished the grooviest thing. The worst singing was on “Atmosphere” by Joy Division. The last thing I remember was two girls duetting “Rip Her to Shreds” by Blondie. The screens shut down. The clocks all stopped. The lights went out. I’ll remember to mention you in tapes I leave behind.

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