Sooo, where's the revolution then?


That'll be Julian Cope in Nottingham last week. Goddess knows how many times I've seen him over the years, and last Wednesday was another 'full on' treat.
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Cope has the message If you've got a friend in Jesus stay the hell away from me on the spine of one of his CDs. You gotta love that . . and it links me nicely on to another thing I wanna talk rubbish about. US big budget movies, (I am of course, an art-house guy these days). I watched I Am Legend the other night, Will Smith, donch'a know. . Good movie, very good in fact. Beautiful photographed in parts. But I didn't care for the preachy ending. Signs was the same. A great idea marred (crop circles, alien invasion, what's not to like?) by the "if you just believe in god it'll all be okay in the end" shtick. It's an American thing. At least here in the marginally more 'belief' civilized UK, we don't have all that subtext going on all the bloody time. Even Dr Who leaves god alone. And he's a bit of a leftie. Good.
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Football. It's dead boring.
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Saw the milky way last week out camping in Shropshire. It was glorious, and it's made me want a new telescope.
Talking of sky stuff. .

The one thing that disappoints me about modern life is the lack of UFO/bigfoot/Loch Ness monster photos. I mean, we;ve all got cameras on us most of the time now, right? There should be thousands of new pictures.
I saw a great UFO on the way to the pub tonight. I'd say about five past ten, a steady orange pulsating glow heading toward the East. It was under cloud, seemed solid and the pulsing was random. It was cool. It's only the second thing I've ever seen that I can't explain away as an aircraft.
It's the red dot there. Don't get too excited! --
Been delving into more post-punk stuff. I spend a beery afternoon in Birmingham with Dave Simpson's The Fallen book. I trawled around city bars full of pan handlers with this book and crash bang stuff on my ipod and read all about arse-end the music business from the eyes of sacked Fall members. Then I had a hot dog. It don't get much better!
So I've sorted out all my old Fall CDs and christ on a bike I've been enjoying re-visiting these babies.
I kinda lost interest in new Fall releases after they started the techno stuff of Code Selfish, I just don't do techno and sequencers, but I loved Heads Roll from a few years back, and I've bought the latest, Your Future Our Clutter.
Tonight, driving to and from my last lesson, I played This Nation's Saving Grace, which, after all these years, is still my favourite Fall album. Thankfully I've upgraded my speakers in the van, because it sounded glorious tonight.
I haven't seen them for five years or so, and I'm annoyed at missing their last Birmingham gig. I bought and read Mark E Smith's Renegade last week. It's not as classic as the blurb says, but it's a very entertaining read. I think the reviewers that are gushing over Smith's witticisms in the book are perhaps wearing Rosy glasses or just haven't spent enough time in pubs North of Tring.
And Julian Cope is featured in a Fall song. I didn't know that 'till I re-read Cope's great book on the post-punk Liverpool scene - Head-On last month. Forgot which Fall song it was though. damn. I'll have to read it again.
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I can't listen to Chris Evans for long. Heck, I can't listen to daytime Radio " for long (how many times do you need to hear a phone in caller say "at the end of the day" before you feel like throwing your Ikea occasional (Swedish) table at the radio?). But I heard him say something good once. I'll have to paraphrase it, but he said, pretty much. .
"Why do people go on about men having a 'mid-life crisis' like it's a bad thing? You get some guy in a crap job and a maudlin marriage and all of a sudden he wants to wear jeans, buy a fast car, get a decent shag and play electric guitar with his life, and people say 'ooohhh . . he's having a mid life crisis' like it's a bad thing. Surely it's a good thing?"
I don't think he said shag or maudlin, and I might have added a bit, but I knew what he meant.
And ain't it right?
And I feel even stronger support for the women that have a mid-life crisis. And they do. They so fucking do, and more power to them when their lose their chains. The girls get even more shit-canned because they're the 'homemakers'.
We're all trained to believe that marriage longevity and personal wealth is the measure of a person. It's their complete worth. I don't think it is.
I was in school today, teaching a class of six keyboard music. There were children's bibles by me, piles of the bastards. And I went straight to Leviticus (I've read the bible, oh yes!) to see if the kids were still learning that homosexuality was evil and the spirituality was evil and all that fuckgubbins. And sure enough, it was still there. That poison is still in the schools. And it's mind control, isn't it?
Because it's there, in the bible, where we learn that the only way to be is male, heterosexual, with a wife who is popping them out between cooking and not saying boo to a goose. Oh, and guys, just to make sure you don't spill your seed the god squad will cut your foreskin off so you can't wank. It's the christian way. It won't be long before they invent lube or axle grease or washing up liquid, so least your great great (etc) grandkids can have a quick one off the wrist in their starter home. Don't fret about being an amputee for no reason, eh? It's all for god!
I say to you, dear reader, embrace your mid life crisis, embrace the sky (can you reach?) and embrace the earth and the stars and the sun and fuck religion and run to your nearest ancient site and just throw your arms up and shout. .
"Chris Evans is right!"
Actually, no, don't shout that. Just throw your arms up. That'll do.
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I first went to Avebury in December 1990. I came back and listened to Stereolab's Peng and read a John Mitchell article and my life kinda changed. Averbury throws you a curve if you've got one of those silly arty minds.
I got back from Avebury, I was 23 years old, a plumber. Sitting on my bed in myparent's house I started reading all this stuff I'd bought in Wessex and still buzzing from the great stones. I drove to Warminster, visited Cradle Hill, where they saw all that stuff, I went back to Wessex the next summer to see the crop circles, I went to see the Derbyshire stone circles. . I even went to Cottingley Beck. I'll go back there in now I'm happier times,
(catch me out one night and I'll tell you about the disappointment of Cottingly Beck).
I trawled book fairs to find out about this stuff, and it was fantastic in all the right ways.
It's still going on, thankfully.
Last year we camped in Alton Barnes and I saw some of that early wonder again. It's hard to recapture, but a night in the Barge and a visit to a field that was like the best place on Earth. that 1991 essence was captured again and I felt fueled by it. I can't explain how or why and I know it sounds like hippy shit but I don't care. You kinda plug into something around Avebury. It could be the stones, but it could also be why the stones are there.
Anyway, to quote Mr Cope "all this information starts scurrying out". It's good when it does, and it makes you want to hug a tree. I'll be at the stones again soon.
Sometimes, if you listen hard, they even call!
It's only a matter of time before I buy a staff and grow a long beard. I can feel it. I'll be pointing at stuff going "yonder!", instead of "look over there!"
Happy summer solstice everyone!
1 comment:
The 'UFO' is the smaller light. I should have made that clearer.
Did you manage a Solstice trip CV?
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