Trinkhallen, Primitive Iodine, Rose and Raz

“Do you go to gigs every day?” asked Lowri Evans in Chorlton Oddbins last night. Well, I had Tuesday night off. Why was I in Oddbins? Why, a gig of course! It was the third time this week I’d come to hear my friends guitarist David Birchall and singer Greta Buitkute on their Trinkhallen tour with German bass clarinet trio Die Verwechslung. On Monday I’d tried and failed to walk all the way to posh Altrincham along Bridgewater Canal. Had I not taken a scenic detour via Sale Water Park and Priory Gardens where there is a fantastic high path view over green treetops, I might have made it on time. As it was I hopped on a tram at Timperley and rode two stops to the end of the line. It would have been well worth the walk even if they hadn’t been playing as the Angkor Soul people had laid on delicious free food; jack fruit, rice and peas with salad. Iko Kelly, Stuart Calton and Kate Armitage made it to two of their performances but I was the only non-performer who wasn’t travelling in the German entourage to film and photograph the tour who made it to all three. I was late to the 5pm performance in Arndale Centre market Microbar as David had mistakenly written that Microbar was in the Food Court at the other end of the mall. Later last night I took the tram from Chorlton to Piccadilly to hear another magical performance from Rose Niland and her five recorder tooting ladies and Canny drumming and keyboarding men. OK two ladies played bass and guitar rather than recorders but that sentence would have been way too clunky if I’d included that information. One of Rose and Diamond Hand’s songs sounds like what might have happened if Can had been asked to write a James Bond theme. Drummer Jay Vid Duchovny was feeling very ill, but it didn’t affect his Leibezeitisms. Jewish singer songwriter Avital Raz played afterwards and started with a song rather reminiscent of “The Scarlet and the Gold” by the Thirteenth Floor Elevators. She played her notorious “Edinburgh Song” about getting fucked up the ass for peace, and her new songs sounded like her best yet. The night before I’d walked along the canal to the Peer Hat for some Satanic starpowered tripped out tribal invocations from Primitive Knot, a bit of abstract ambience from Kepier Widow and a full on wild onslaught of Harry Pussy / Sonic Youth proportions from French trio Sister Iodine. Tonight Triangle Cuts are playing at Fuel but I’ll be heading to Islington Mill for their party (BYOB) that starts at 6pm, then off to Night People for a late night gig headlined by great garage blues punk band the Dee Vees. The weekend is a double all day music feast courtesy of Astral Elevator called the Psych weekender featuring the mighty Mugstar, a band I’ve seen almost as many times as Killing Joke, Wire and Melt Banana. Other highlights are Lumerians, The Oscillation, Bones Shake, The Janitors and Weird Sex, but most bands playing I’ve never heard before. If the timings work out I might pop over to The Peer Hat on Saturday to see Paddy Steer and on Sunday to see Ian Svenonius, but the giro is running low so paying in to two extra gigs might become slightly problematic by Sunday. Monday is quieter with Cult Party, Secret Admirer, Tekla and Tom Settle playing the Peer Hat, then I have two days off as Dylan Carlson has had to cancel his gig due to illness. The Peer Hat seems to have very much taken over the gig scene this September. Those facebook frenz who also appeared: Dusty Burtons, Martin Warm Widow, Alexa Kruger, Nick Alexander, Michelle Woods, Mathew Boycott Garnet, Penfold Kowalski, Joanne Maylott, Simon Morris, Mick Kenyon, Liam Farr, Dom Jam and a special guest appearance from James Travis who was getting on the tram to Rochdale going home from work as I got off after travelling from Chorlton.

Brix Smith: The Rise The Fall and the Rise

NEW FACTS EMERGE: I wonder if the final Fall album was titled as a reflection on the books written by Brix Start, Stephen Hanley and Simon Woolstencroft? Brixton’s fascinating book “The Rise The Fall and the Rise” is certainly full of revelations about the character of various Fall members especially Mark E Smith. Primarily I learnt these things:

1      When she was a teenager Brix was brutally anally raped by a guy she thought was gay who lured her to a jam session. She never revealed this to anyone until she wrote the book.

2    Mark E Smith seemed to have been in a worse state of mental collapse than I’d imagined when Brix quit for the second time and tried to hit him with her guitar after he threw her handbag at her on stage. Mark insulted some rappers playing the same festival as The Fall by calling them “boy” and got a good beating for it. He was so deranged he became convinced he’d caught a disease from being touched by a person in a wheelchair that he started cutting his hands to “let out the disease.” I feel very lucky I completely failed to replace Brix as guitarist at this time, as I think I’d have probably lasted half a rehearsal. Stephen Hanley seems to be the most patient, dependable, humble nice gentleman you could hope to meet, but Mark even drove him out in the end. Brix’s replacement “Scotch man” Tommy Crooks didn’t last long.

3.       Marcia Schofield was obsessed with hardcore porn that disgusted Brix.

4.       All “the lads” except the happily married Mr Hanley and Simon Rogers would pay for prostitutes whilst on tour.

5.       Mark started cheating on Brix earlier in their marriage than I thought, and also cheated on Lucy Rimmer.

6.       “Hotel Bloedel” was a real hotel in Germany near Auschwitz where Mark and Brix stayed. It had its own abattoir, where cows were slaughtered to feed the guests, which disgusted Brix. Bloedel is German for stupid person and it was run by a strange family of that name. Mostly stupid people work in abattoirs don’t they?

7.       My first impression of Brix when I met her whilst the Fall were recording a video for “The Chisellers” was correct: she is a really nice person. My first impression of Karl Burns was also pretty much spot on: he’s a right cunt. Brix bought him a birthday cake which he just threw at a wall! I never met either of them again but had several strange encounters with Mark E Smith in the years that followed. It’s possible that I was at least partly the inspiration for the lyrics and Mark E Smith impressions on the song “Everybody But Myself” and the character of the Crying Marshall.

8.       Leigh Bowery “simulated” rape on Brix (without her consent) but she put it down to being part of his “art” as there was no penetration. Considering Agenda Item One, this must have been very disturbing and terrifying for her.

9.       Brix has a very low opinion of “The Frenz Experiment” especially “The Steak Place” and “Oswald Defence Lawyer.”

10.   Brix came up with the title “The Wonderful and Frightening World of the Fall” as a homage to “The Wonderful World of Disney.”

11.   We are in total agreement that “This Nation’s Saving Grace” is the best Fall album. Her critical analysis of Fall music is mostly spot on.

12.   Brix drew the CREEP character that I have on a very old poster, originally for a book of Mark’s lyrics. CREEP has a lobster claw hand “because creeps always pinch you on the ass.”

13.   There should be another 14 or 15 points so that there are 27 points, just like the double live album that was the final Fall recording to be released featuring Brix, until the deluge of demo/live compilations like “Oxymoron” and “Sinister Waltz.” I will just have to read the book again to find the points.

September Gigs in Manchester

Saturday 1^st: Psych Fest with ILL, St Agnes, Mold, The Cosmics, Asteroid #4, Saba Lou, The Abjects, AK/DK, etc

Monday 3^rd: Insurrectionary Neo-Futurism Monday @ Peer Hat with Cynthia’s Periscope + Triangle Cuts + Jan Doyle Band FREE

Thursday 6^th: Powersolo + Bones Shake + Thee Windom Earles @ Peer Hat

Friday 7^th: 100 Year Old Man @ Rebellion

Friday 7^th: Matt Hollywood and the Bad Feelings @ Peer Hat

Friday 7^th: Little Mother + Baby Green + Amphorae @ Fuel

Saturday 8^th: Kiran Leonard + Cult Party + The Birth Marks @ Partisan

Saturday 8^th: Bong + Bismuth @ Star & Garter

Saturday 8^th: Zimpel / Ziolek + Tombed Visions @ Soup Kitchen

Monday 10^th: Die Verwechslung with David Birchall and Greta Buitkute @ Angkor Soul, 20 Ashley Road Altrincham 7pm

Wednesday 12^th: Sister Iodine + Kepier Widow + Primitive Knot @ Peer Hat

Thursday 13^th: Die Verwechslung with David Birchall and Greta Buitkute @ Food Hall, Arndale Centre 5pm

Thursday 13^th: Avital Raz + Rose and the Diamond Hand + Laura Taylor @ Peer Hat

Thursday 13^th: Die Verwechslung with David Birchall and Greta Buitkute @ Chorlton Oddbins 7pm

Thursday 13^th: The Noise Upstairs @ Fuel

Friday 14th: Psych weekender warm up @ Night People with the Dee Vees + Silver Vials + Circus Cannon 10pm start

Friday 14th: Triangle Cuts @ Fuel

Saturday 15^th: Paddy Steer + Experimental Sonic Machines + Flavolous + Video + Acid Marko @ Peer Hat (starts 5pm)

Saturday 15^th: Psych weekender @ Night People with The Oscillation, Lumerians, Bones Shake, etc

Saturday 15^th: Wooden Shjips + The Lucid Dream @ Gorilla (sold out)

Saturday 15^th: Kapil Seshasayee + Parlour + Wait Loss + Jo Rose @ Fuel

Sunday 16^th: Ian Svenonius Escape-ism @ Peer Hat

Sunday 16th: Psych Weekender @ Night People w/ Mugstar, etc

Monday 17th: Cult Party + Secret Admirer + Tekla + Tom Settle @ Peer Hat

Wednesday 19^th: Dylan Carlson (Earth) cancelled due to illness

Thursday 20^th: Sneers @ Peer Hat

Friday 21st: Drink and Drive + Sonic AM + Dead Elephants @ The Old Pint Pot

Saturday 22^nd: Guts + Threads + SPQR + Blanketman + Farfisa @ Peer Hat

Monday 24^th: Bivouac + The Empty Page @ Night People

Tuesday 25^th: The Nightingales + Near Jazz Experience @ Soup Kitchen

27-30 Sonder Festival in various venues with mostly bands I've never heard

Thursday 27th: Hands Off Gretel @ Bread Shed (Sonder Festival)

Thursday 27th: Consumer Electronics + Skullflower @ Ruby Lounge

Friday 28^th: Songs for Walter @ Yes basement

Friday 28^th: Wolfgang Flur @ Gorilla

Friday 28^th: The Cosmics @ Night People (Sonder Festival)

Saturday 29^th: Witch Fever + Chew Magna + Black Pudding + lots of other bands “Stay Fresh fest”@ Deaf Institute


Sunday 30^th: Blue Orchids + Bell Lungs + Sans Oeuf @ Peer Hat

Sunday 30^th:  Cynthia's Periscope @ Fac251 (Sonder Festival)


Early October highlights:

2 Cattle @ Rebellion (opening for Elder  + Ancestors neither of whom I've heard yet)

5 The Sonics @ Academy 3

9 Chris Corsano @Peer Hat
12 Spaceheads @ Peer Hat
13 Bo Ningen + Witch Fever @ Night and Day

13 Yossarians @ Partisan

Fake News and Karaoke (fifteenth letter to Lowri)

Rewind to 5pm Friday 13^th 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.

Break Shit is Break Shit (fourteenth letter to Lowri)

Here is another of the gigantic Lowris. I saw the graffiti nearby and thought it would be funny if the man in glasses was saying, “Breakshit is Breakshit.” The giant Lowri’s reply is the graffiti: “Breakshit is the devil’s work!” See how I avoided typing the dreadful “B” word. I took a devout monastic vow to never type or say that word. I always refer to “Leaving the EU.” I have to pay more letter tax, but it’s worth every penny. At the last moment I asked Whitney Bluzma to get me in the photo, pointing at the graffiti and shouting the message about the devil into my phone to the gigantic Lowri and her bespectacled friend. Nearby skateboarders seemed slightly bemused. This short street performance was titled, “Leaving the EU is the devil’s work, and the devil is Boris Johnson.” My hope is that it will contribute in some tiny way to helping exorcise that lying buffoon from all our lives forever. Whilst Boris is in Aquarius and The Sun is up his arse, there is no hope for anyone. Later on Piccadilly I spotted a “Naughty Bus.” Instead of a number and destination the display read, “Naughty Bus.” Suddenly people were shouting and raising French flags on Piccadilly Plaza! The EU had betrayed us again and France had invaded! I hurried home to fetch my sword, but dozed off before I could join the fray, so like a minister I am now resigned to my fate. Perhaps you would be safer staying in Brazil until the innocent and saintly hero of the patriots, the pinball wizard Tommy Robinson, can lead us all bravely into battle against Jeanni Foreigner and we can make Britain grate again.

The Wonderful Wooden Poodle (thirteenth letter to Lowri)

The Fifteenth: Space is the Place, time is the crime. Planet Earth is doomed and there’s nothing the Overseers can do. The only hope for humanity in the insanity is the cosmic vibration of the Sun Ra Arkestra and their double breasted spacecraft. They will bring about a new consciousness through isotopic transmogrification . Or something like that. 

Near Home the gigantic Lowri had replicated twice. There were now three gigantic Lowris. Or could it be that the other two gigantic Lowris had always been there, but were obscured from my consciousness by rogue particles gravitating towards the Deleted Beach at the heart of Home. This is a true story. Close to the first gigantic Lowri I found an abandoned street poodle on wheels. The poor pooch had broken his neck. I lifted the unfortunate beast delicately and carried it across the road. It was clearly dead, but perhaps it had never really been alive. I tried to tend his mortal wounds as best I could, and propped his head at a more natural angle. He was pleased to be placed next to his new mistress, staring up at her in admiration. I titled this spontaneous street installation “Now I wanna be your green poodle dog.” The people were pleased: two young Japanese girls were so tak 

en with the wonderful wooden poodle that they snapped pictures to take home so that they could marvel at his greenness and share it with their friends. Kawaii!! Luckily a couple of my friends were nearby, Whitney Bluzma the feminist bassist of the dada sticky ILL band, and her boyfriend Jason. I asked Whitney to take a picture of the wonderful wooden poodle in his new location so that I could show you as I thought you’d enjoy this scene. The intense gravitational pull of the three gigantic Lowris was hard to escape, but I managed to run away again.

Full Mantis (twelfth letter to Lowri)

You keep surprising me. I didn’t expect to turn a corner and be confronted by a giant Lowri hangin’ on to a telephone! It wasn’t a hologram, just a two dimensional image, so there was no chance of any fishy interaction. Is this how they entice people to sit in a future office these days? If you put a picture of Lowri Evans on the barrier that keeps the people out of a construction site on Thirst Street will they all stay out? Or will kiddies climb over the Lowri to play in the scaffolding? Today at least your image was keeping trespassers out, even though it doesn’t seem at all threatening. How do you do it? By the time the sky blocking tower block is built I predict office workers will all turn on their computers and switch them off again in the nude and waft the stench of decaying fish through the air conditioning.

I was heading to Home to see a film about jazz drummer Milford Graves and the met office had put out a huge name drop warning. I met modular synthesist Sam Weaver just after I bought my ticket. The till lady asked me if I’d ever seen a film at Home before and I had to confess I was a Home film virgin, but proudly showed her my Hotpants Romance shoulder bag and told her I’d seen this band play at Home. As you might recall I lost my Home exhibitionism virginity to Hotpants Romance last Valentine’s Day. I climbed the stairs with Sam, having completely forgotten all the directions the till lady had given me, but we found our way to the cinema without any fishy mishaps. Inside there were eleven people I know, and there was a seat left next to our friend Stuart Calton who is half a Sippy Cup. Next to him was the other half of Sippy Cup and third of Silver Dick the facebook free Kate Armitage and next to her was Martyn Walker. Next to him were Helen Brealey and David Birchall. David is such a Milford Graves enthusiast that he’d already seen the film in a Sheffield cinema. Afterwards he confessed to some confusion about Milford’s philosophising and I warned him that the Sun Ra “Space is the Place” film showing at Home on Sunday might push his philosophical boat much further out. Or should that be farther out? Who cares, as long as you know what I mean. Those who also watched: Paddy Steer, Graham Massy, Sam’s brother Christian Weaver, Fred who may or may not be on facebook and a fellow whose name I don’t know or forgot who I met when Damo Suzuki played a gig with the band who used to be The Fall. All of them were wearing clothes and no one had brought a fish, but they’ll learn. The film was called “Full Mantis” after Milford’s revelation that he had to learn his moves from the preying mantis. It was funny and moving, especially the concert with autistic Chinese children and Milford’s account of how he avoided prison by being nice when buying cheese after he went on a rampage with a pistol against some people who were trying to kill his son. Stuart was so into it he kept wiggling about in his seat in rhythmic excitement.

Outside the skies had broken, crying that Trump was making England worse again with his odious presence. That sexist racist fascist dictator wannabe with lots of shiny missiles to point at “little rocket man” had ruined the heatwave, just like he spoils everything else he can. My luck was in, as I found a big broken discarded umbrella to shelter me and my trusty Hotpants bag from the crying clouds as I hurried to The Peer Hat where I was just in time to see the second funniest band in Manchester ever, Jeuce. More on them later, as I have to make some silly signs for the anti-Trump demo party on Albert Square. Wish you were here like that demo when we marched against Trump together. Please send your hologram!!