I’m not sure about the game but this, oh this is immense. I demand a full length feature film.
I was away most of last week so there is no 10 Questions this week. Soz.
I’ll make up for it by being extra funny on Twitter and post more on here. Avanti!
I don’t actually know Meg Baird but after listening to her solo album ‘Dear Companion’ over and over again for the last few months I felt like I was qualified to force my nonsense on her. On ‘Dear Companion’ her pure, plaintive voice wraps itself around songs of death and longing and brings a peace upon me wherever and whenever I hear it. Meg is a founder member of Espers who also make very fine records indeed.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
I am in my 3rd floor apartment in Philadelphia with all the windows open. It’s very peaceful at the moment, especially since there aren’t any helicopters flying overhead just now. I’m trying not to knock over my guitar, it’s leaning against the couch and I should be practicing.
2. My favourite article of clothing is a sweater I bought about six years ago. It’s Arsenic Grey with a slightly raised neck and the figure ‘29′ emblazoned
on the front. it’s gone at the elbows and, despite the care with which I tend to it, it smells a bit like my dearly departed Grandfather’s outside toilet.
It protects me from devils, evil spirits and the gloom that descends without warning on bleak Tuesday afternoons. I fear nothing whilst wearing it and
would wear it into any battle that I may stumble across. I told my eight month old son the other day that he would inherit ‘Old 29′. He was so excited that
he tinkled all over the couch. What’s your favourite article of clothing.
I have an inherited dad’s sweater that I wore it all through college. I don’t hold on to many clothes or things, but I don’t think it would be possible to give this up, even though it is pretty much retired from wearing now. I always have a favorite pair of jeans and boots, but I am too hard on my clothes to have the same favorites for long. I also have a youth-large hunting orange hoodie that I love. I do feel that it protects me from getting shot accidentally when walking through any wooded area, and keep it around all the time for that reason.
3. “She was not a woman given to recollections” Writes Dorothy Parker in ‘Big Blonde’ “At her middle thirties, her old days were a blurred and flickering
sequence, an imperfect film, dealing with the actions of strangers”.
I have a shocking memory, shocking. I forget names and faces seconds after I’ve met them, it makes life very confusing.
Last Monday I texted somebody apologising for texting on a Sunday and tried to rearrange an arrangement that I hadn’t actually arranged.
What is your first memory?
My first memories involve wood floors and hearing my mom’s voice from another room.
4. What is the one thing you and your sister fight about the most?
Who gets to play the piano.
5. My mate Corin in Boston maintains that he doesn’t like the band Boston where in actual, immutable, fact he is their number one,
all time, bestbandever, fan.
Boston The Band Fanclub Status? ‘Knickerwetter’.
Which band do you outwardly deride yet secretly like? Mine’s Snow Patrol. I have all their lyrics collected in a Royal octavo with Secret Belgian Binding and their turgid, vapid, grandiloquence paints rainbows over my heart. I deride them. Or do I?
(I can’t actually answer this question and still have it a secret?)
Since I feel relatively uneducated about music, I try and never indulge these kind of secrets. I feel like my only way to keep any credibility alongside people who know so much is to at least be very honest about my ears. All the same, I recently way underplayed my love for Tom Tom Club’s “Genius of Love.”. I think this track is a joyful, strong hearted, downtown love-prophecy and a really cool piece of recorded music history.
6. You’re an American musician. What do make of Kaka going to Madrid?
Thank you for the research project.
7. I’m listening to ‘Illinois’ by Sufjan Stevens whilst typing this. It’s one of my favourite records although saying that I could live without a few tracks. Beautifully recorded,
great songs, amazing voice and poignant, singular lyrics. If you had the choice between singing and songwriting, what would it be?
Singing for sure, as long as songwriting is only applying to lyrics, not melody and sound. I’d take glossolalia over lyrics if I had to choose.
8. I’m making a mixtape at the minute, it’s great fun. I’m going to use your A Capella of ‘Dear Companion’ and add some beats, dubby bass and doubtless
a dangerously distorted Moog Bass (Modular Moog. 901b 8-Osc. Stereo Saw + Sub) until the only way they’ll be able to know what the song is will be by it’s dental records.
What do think about electronic music. Great musicians expressing their musicality through modern technology or geeky pocket fumblers, button pushing musical dwarves with operating
manuals sticking out their arse pocket?
No that’s great! Funny enough, the A Capella B-side was designed for this purpose. Tony Vogdes from Tequila Sunrise is a big fan of dance music, and this idea was meant to be a layer in that “album as object” type of thinking (not a concept I am so great at personally!). I wish I knew more about electronic music. Humans looking for new sounds is fascinating.
9. I thought Racism had begun and ended in the seventies and yet democratically legitimised Nazi hitsquad, The British National Party have just been voted overlords of Britain. Has there
been a noticeable difference in America since the end of the republican reign of terror and the dawn of Obama’s presidency?
Maybe racism seems more transparent and demystified…possibly making it easier to see problems with class, poverty and civil rights? But trying to really quantify things like mood just anecdotally–it feels almost superstitious. Of course there was tons of legitimate celebrating and relief to see Obama win and Bush leave. I would be even happier to see The Heritage Foundation go away. I remember seeing some kind of news or fiction or documentary piece about a clerk who worked there who began to shred the donations he was ostensibly processing, I wish I could find the source of this, maybe I have made it up by now.
10. My favourite food is beer and cake, lots and lots of cake. And beer. What’s your favourite cake and beer?
If I could have one favorite, I would.
Where do the weeks go? Sonny is sitting up and has two sharp little teeth sticking out of his lower gums, my hair is long and my beard is huge.
I’m still working on the second Black Serpent Choir album, writing songs for the next Martin Carr record and putting together a mixtape. All of this music will be available to you through my own label, Sonny Boy Records. The beautiful people at State 51 are giving me a shop from which I can flog my dubious wares to the world. All bravecaptain releases will be available as well plus freebies, badges and other things that I haven’t thought of yet. ‘
‘Ye Gods (and little fishes)’ will be released on 6th July 2009. It’s already been played on XFM, 6 Music and the first track on the album ‘The Dead of Winter’ will be on The Word’s covermount CD for August. On the 16th July I’ll be appearing on Roundtable with Steve Lamaq.
Future Sonny Boy releases -
Martin Carr - Ye Gods (and little fishes) - 2009
The Black Serpent Choir - 2005 (Lost in Time) - 2009
bravecaptain - unknownartist (abravecaptainsampler) - 2009
Sonny Boy Records - Birth, School, Work, Death (Mixtape) - 2009
The Black Serpent Choir - Bartholomew Fair - 2010
The full bravecaptain discog will be available digitally soon. I’ve also found a box of ‘Captain America’ 10″s in the attic.
I first met Keith in 1991 at Protocol Studios in North London, sandwiched between the bustle, second hand furniture stores and Indian Restaurants of Holloway Road and the relative peace of Benwell Road where John Lydon had spent his boyhood years. Protocol was where we recorded the ‘Every Heaven’ Ep, ‘Everything’s Alright Forever’, ‘Boo Forever’, ‘Giant Steps’ and tracks for the ‘Wake Up Boo’ single (although we rerecorded the eponymous track when we started going to Rockfield Studios in Wales). I’m not sure what we were recording when Keith came down to interview us for the NME but we must have hit it off because a short while later we met up for a drink and a trip to the Underworld in Camden to watch Hole. This was the gig where Courteney Love was dragged into the crowd and manhandled, sickening. We became firm friends and we still are. He’s possibly the most honest person I know which puts a constant strain on our relationship, the last thing I need is an honest opinion impinging on my fantasy world.
We shared a flat for a year in the mid nineties, sitting around in our dressing gowns, smoking dope and playing Brian Lara Cricket on the Playstation. I was away for much of the time, during which KEITH NEVER WASHED UP ONCE! But it’s hard to stay mad at him for long and when I ruined it all by getting married and had to kick his honest, non washing up ass out, I was very sorry to see him go.
1. Where are you? Describe you immediate surroundings
I’m at my desk in the MOJO office, which is on the 5th floor of an unremarkable building just of Oxford Street in London’s West End. In front of me are several file boxes over-filled with copies of the magazine, a teetering pile of CDs I’m hoping one day to be able listen to, though I’m not nearest to the office stereo and sometimes can’t face the opprobrium that comes with putting something on which is deemed unpalatable by my colleagues with louder voices and more conviction in their opinions. Next to the CDs is key books for a man in my position: Eric Partridge’s Usage And Abusage. Which is less exciting than it sounds. Immediately to my right is a West Ham Utd mug full of red pens and a photograph of my son Hamish.
2. ‘The Tiger Who Came to Tea’ is a much loved children’s story about a
woman who is having an affair with a stoner which she rationalises by
trying to convince herself,her daughter and her husband that
it’s actually a large, hungry tiger that turns up unannounced while
her husband is at work and proceeds to eat and drink everything in the house.
What’s the best book you ever borrowed from a female friend?
See, you’ve just spoilt that story for me now. I’ve not really borrowed many books, ever, either from female or male friends. Though if you’ve been wondering where your copy of Mr Vertigo by Paul Auster is, to quote the cuckholded salaryman in The Tiger Who Came To Tea, “I’ve got a very good idea”.
3. What was the worst interview you have did?
Depends on your definition of “worst”. Patrick Duff from Strangelove fell asleep. Siouxsie Sioux walked out in a huff, because I wouldn’t shut up about her past as opposed to concentrating on her fabulous new album. Silly cow. A fair few have been flat-out boring, but that’s because interviews are inherently boring.
4. Scotland is undoubtably the greatest nation on earth and anyone born
there holds keys that unlock the secrets
the universe. Why live in England? Are you subverting the Empire from within
or are you trying negotiating the release
of Kenny Dalglish?
I’ve a soft-spot for Trotsky, so I’d like to think the former. I’m obviously not doing a very good job.
5. Back in 1993 we spent six weeks trying to erase your vocal parts from
‘Giant Steps’. Have you ever, inadvertently or otherwise, destroyed
any other band’s careers?
Hey! Didn’t the stress of that experience resolve you to write some proper tunes in future??!!
I don’t think I’ve ever deliberately set out to destroy any band’s career. Saying like you see it can, however, come off a tad harsh when laid down in print. I saw Radiohead circa 1992 and really didn’t think they were much cop. I wrote words to the effect that they were a pitiful lily-livered excuse for a rock’n'roll band. I don’t think it did their career much harm. So much for the all-powerful music press.
6. On the 5th November 1977, my Dad took me to Anfield to watch Liverpool play Aston Villa. Before the game the European Cup was lifted and my dad pointed out Bill Shankly; it was incredibly exciting. The memory of Ray Clemence, Ray Kennedy, Terry McDermott and my idol, Kenny Dalglish warm up that frosty afternoon will live with me for the rest of my life. We lost only a handful of league matches at home during that entire decade and unfortunately this was one of them. 1-2, gutted.
What can you remember about the first football match you ever attended?
Inverness Thistle v Elgin City, in the early to mid-70s. Lovely sunny day. Thistle played in red and black stripes, hence my residual fondness for AC Milan. Pretty sure Thistle won, doubtless thanks to some quintessential impish wizardry from Alistair ‘Tichy’ Black, though I was too busy being fascinated by the ground, Annfield Stadium (!) which in typical Highland League style comprised a small wooden stand, with wooden benches, a corrugated iron enclosure opposite, and two terraces behind each goal of about half a dozen railway sleepers. I’ve had an eye for misshapen football stadia ever since. Thistle were merged with hated local rivals Caledonian in 1994, but don’t get me started on all that.
7. The boy is teething. He’s not sleeping and drooling like an MEP with an
expense account. What’s the best advice you can give me?
Enjoy it while you can. The molars are worse. Gel’s a waste of time, the homoepathic teething granules seemed to help, but really, the best thing you can do is give the poor bairn Medised. It’s what God invented on the eighth day…
8. Q. Did you hear about the horny suicide bomber?
A. He stepped onto a crowded bus and blew himself off
That’s my humble contribution to the vast and ancient world of original
fungineering? Have you ever made up a joke?
Never. Me and jokes don’t get on. Can’t remember good ones properly to tell them, always fall for the obvious ones, only dodgy punchlines seem to stick in my head (eg, He had a licker licence). Comedy is totally overrated anyway.
9. “Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore,
non feci mai male ad anima viva!”
Wrote Puccini in his opera ‘Tosca’. Can you, in a twitteresque 140
words, sum up your philosophy towards life?
Not really, as I’ve never twittered and don’t intend to start now. Wittering, on the other hand, is something I’m good at. The simple facts of life are:
Reggae’s great. Everything falls apart. Be honest. Love is all you need. Marx was right. The kids are insane. Mine’s a pint of Pride (and so’s yours).
10. I reckon the best intro to a song ever is ‘Death on Two Legs’ by Queen from the glorious camprock album ‘A Night at the Opera’. Oneiric, It starts with the sound of a distant, fluttering piano which is then joined by a pounding bass and what sounds like the screaming of ravenous eagles getting closer and closer until you wake, sweating, to the plod of another piano leading us into a ‘Sweeney’-esque groove (and check out John Deacon’s bass playing here, his best). Just as you think the vocal must be imminent, in comes a dizzying guitar solo soaring high above everything else… The whole thing is so pompous and completely over the top. Great, great rock music.
Can you talk us through your favourite?
Horrible question, I came up with two dozen right away and then spent a day pondering the definition of ‘intro’. Does it preclude having lyrics? If so, then Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen is disqualified. It starts with lonesome moothie and piano and then Bruce joins in with screeds of his greatest cornball wisdom until the drums kick in and we’re off. So assuming that’s a no-no, then I’ll say Livin’ Thing by the Electric Light Orchestra, probably because it’s been rattling round my head since I heard it unexpectedly the other morning. I had to interview the Arctic Monkeys, met them at a studio where they were doing some photos and Alex had his iPod plugged into some speakers. After about half an hour of Nick Cave he ran over and put ELO on instead. I don’t think I’d knowingly listened to this song for years and I was absolutely floored by how perfect it sounded. I guess part of any great intro’s thrill is the anticipation of where it’s taking you, but Livin’ Thing kinda plateaus out once we’re into the song proper. It’s still amazing though, testimony to the genius of how it starts. Obviously it’s ham theatrics all the way, but no one can do this like Jeff Lynne: the startled lone violin runs about looking for a way out, a trumpet pipes up to give him the good news and off we go into that cashmere groove blanket. Alex said he had a hangover and so it was a bit of an ELO morning. In an ideal world, every morning is an ELO morning.
I love looking at old photographs, I can do it for hours at a time. Look at that one above; I wonder where it is? Is that a badge that the gentleman has fastened to his suit? Are they married? They seem quite comfortable with one another but there is no physical contact. Where did he buy that tie? Where did she get her hair done? I wonder if that house is till there? I wonder if I could stand on the exact spot they occupy in this photograph? But what I really want to know, what makes me look longer, is what lies beyond that open doorway. What stories and secrets loom within that everlasting darkness?
Actually, that last bit of flowery prose would be true in any other photograph but this one is different, that guy there is my Great Grandfather, the lass in heels and shapeless blouse could be my Great Grandmother, I’m not sure. And that is all I know..
Last week Caitlin sent me, as she does every week, her Times column to illustrate. She had written about ancestry with an emphasis on the titles we give ourselves in order to display to others our ethnic identities such as the oft used AngloIrishCypriotAmericanIndian. Anyway, as I’d recently been doing a spot of excavation work around the old family plot, where our tree stands, bent but not broken; I had a box of photographs that would supply the illustration (The column and illustration are in todays Times).
My Gran died in 1981, I had been playing football with Sice on the fields off Mosslands Drive and arrived home to find the house hushed. I can’t remember being told, I do remember asking my dad how old she was during tea that night, a typically tactless act. I loved my Gran, her laugh, her bunions, the fact that her name was Renie and that she had packets and packets of Renes in the heavy drawers of the big oak sideboard which sat against one of the walls of the cramped back room of the house in Altrincham where she lived with my Grandfather, Jim. She was a large lady, warm and funny. If we asked what was for pudding at the end of a meal she would say ‘A jump at the cupboard door and a bite of the knob’. Her friends called her Keekee because that was the noise she made when she laughed. I know that she had a brother, Roland who my dad remembers visiting in his Navy uniform. We think he emigrated to New Zealand. I can still hear her voice and remember the way she used to get up from her chair, it took a few attempts. I also swear that I remember her running for a bus when we lived in Leasowe in the early seventies but my Mum doesn’t think that would have been possible, even then. ‘You can’t put your arms around a memory’ sang Johnny Thunders but a memory can wrap it’s loving arms around you and the thoughts of all my Grandparents and their houses bring me great pleasure tinged with an inevitable sadness, an intoxicating combination for a hopeless melancholic such as myself.
Thing is, she was just my Gran, not a person with hopes, fears, dreams, desires… She existed solely to supply me, my brother and sister with an endless supply of cake and sweets and comics. That’s her above, how old is she? Where is she? I’ve many photographs of her as a young woman, speeding through countryside on a bicycle, sitting on the steps of an ornate gypsy caravan and laughing with friends. Who are these people? It almost aches not to know these things. Photographs are teasing, showing you what they want you to see and no more, the rest of the world hiding behind the faded and torn white borders, out of sight, gone forever. Like a Time Machine that freezes once it arrives at it’s destination on the very day that you get your neck brace fitted; photographs can often frustrate as much as illuminate. Where is she going? Where has she been? Does she think about having children? Grandchildren?
The photographs below are of my Dad and Grandad (all these pics are of my dad’s family because they are the pictures I have to hand). My Grandfather is the dude in the trilby. My dad is the image of my son.
I first met Pete Fowler in the mid nineties at an exhibition of his paintings in a bar on Kingly Street, a few steps off Regent Street on the outskirts of Soho. I was there ostensibly to drink and see who was about but fell in love with a painting that has hung on my wall since, currently residing above our round fireplace in Cardiff. The hunched figure of a skinhead clad in a sleeveless white vest, staring dolefully out of a blue tenebrous murk, the vague outline of buildings barely visible behind. In one hand he holds a flaming torch, under the other arm a winking parrot. At least I think it’s a winking parrot, we used to think it was a skateboard. It was unlike anything else in the exhibition and I immediately bought it. I think it cost a couple of hundred pounds but is now easily worth billions. I think Pete was just about to move to Japan at that time, I’m not sure. I don’t see him very often but we’ll bump into each other occasionally, usually at something Furry related. For illustrations, animations and, best of all, MAKE YOUR OWN MONSTER! Check out http://www.monsterism.net/
Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
I’m sat on the sofa, computer on my lap in my micro flat in East London. I have a BBC One programme about the missing link on in the background (Attenborough) and feeling slightly depressed about my surroundings due to watching a webcam of St Martins, Isles of Scilly, on the web about an hour ago (going on a camping holiday there over the summer, wish it was tomorrow). I used to spend a bit of time on the islands, Bryher in particular and completely blagged a low paid job many years ago in a boatshed on the beach AKA a poly tunnel painted white using gnarly fiberglass and enormous amounts of acetone. I once had to wash my hands in a huge drum of it to get the gelcoat off them. Happy days!
An absolute doppelganger of Neil Young (Harvest era) turned up once off the ferry from St Mary’s to Bryher with his much loved digger. After chatting for a while, I asked him if he’d ever lived on the mainland, “I lived in Penzance for 3 weeks once…didn’t like it”.
2. You went to Falmouth Art College. Who or what was your biggest inspiration during your time there?
Cornwall’s concrete skateparks and backgarden ramps, indie-psychedelic rock-rave-hip hop, freaky friends, Trago Mills Falmouth (google it), horror movies, sweets, cheese and mushroom pasties, mushrooms, skate graphics and skating on the brain. Did I mention skateboarding?
When you were a kid, who or what was your favourite monster?
Probably dinosaurs, if you class them as monsters though I was really taken with a book I read around 9 yrs old about man’s search for mythical beasts.I was quite taken with Sasquatch/Bigfoot and still have a soft spot for them. I believe Brian Blessed is quite keen on more research and governments to protect the Yeti. I think governments should protect Brian Blessed. I think I saw Sasquatch in Chewbacca when I inevitably was obsessed by Star Wars as most kids of my age were at the time.
4. “Humane motives are too sacred for the person before whom they are invoked not to bow to them, whether he believes them to be sincere or not”
Writes Marcel Proust in the second book of ‘Remembrance of Things Past’ If you could render obsolete one sadness of this world, what would it be?
Loneliness could be a good one to get shot of, that’s a pretty top 5 sadness I would guess…… what do you mean this isn’t ‘Family Fortunes’? I’d like to see Proust on that show. ‘Philosophical Fortunes’.
5.What is the ideal environment for you to work, do you follow any rituals, have a favourite place?
I like working in my studio but then again there isn’t a perfect environment to work for me. I’ve done a lot of good work (I think) away from my desk. I think it’s a place in your head. You realize that when you get the creative blank outs and it’s all to do with your head. As long as I have a pencil and paper I’m good though a laptop and internet connection are better. I’ve maybe fallen into rituals due to the everyday routines- coffee, pastry, Orangina (glass bottle), Radio 4 Women’s Hour. But I think pretty much anywhere I can get my creative brain together is good for me.
6. Just thinking about F C Ware’s heartbreakingly sad graphic novel ‘Jimmy Corrigan’ has me in tears. Especially now that my son looks exactly like little James.
Which work of art moves you most and why?
Chris Ware is killer, isn’t he? Such an icredible draftsman he blows my mind but I found his work really difficult to read over the last few years, not to say I don’t enjoy it but it can be very bleak. He’s totally self deprecating too, his collected sketch books are probably my favorite thing he has done, a real peek inside his head; Careful, it’s fragile in there! Music is probably the most moving for me, it’s always a memory trigger and so loaded with a myriad of emotions. For some reason Heaven by DJ Sammy always gets me choked, I can’t explain that shit!
7. Tonight I cooked Scallops Tempura with new potatoes, spring onions and pesto. What would be your perfect three course meal?
Asparagus with butter to start then West Highland venison with mash and greens for mains then to finish lemon and mango sorbet. Can I have a double espresso at the end and a good bottle of red to start?
8. I’m going rally driving in August with Mary’s brother, Muffin. How would you like die?
I think happily and quickly, without too much mess to clean up.
9. What’s the best name for a band ever? (Mine changes from day to day. Today it’s Leo Sayer).
I love the band names my brother used to come up with years ago. They included Baby Space Launch and Denim Weapon, don’t want to give away his best ones! Leo Slayer? Average White Stripes? Bongzilla I like and they are a real band too. How could you not include The Butthole Surfers and The Arm Of Roger.
10. Who would be in your fantasy band? You get a singer, a Guitar player, Drums, Bass, Keys and Oud. What song would they perform?
Vocals- Sandy Denny
Guitar- Tony Iommi
Drums- Jackie Leibzeit
Bass- Jack Bruce (another Jack but check him on Frank Zappa’s Apostrophe LP title track!!!)
Keys- Herbie Hancock (Can I have Herbie backed up by Vangelis playing the TONTO synth?)
Oud- John Berberian
Playing an arrangment of Heaven by DJ Sammy.
Who?
Hey, I said at the start of this that it wouldn’t all be boring famous people (Famous people reading this; I don’t mean you’re boring I mean the other famous people. You know who I mean, yeah, them). It’s about people I love or who have had some impact on my life. I first met Corin in 1997 in a club in Boston. His band, The Pills, were supporting The Boo Radleys and, from what I can recall of that long drunken journey into night, we became the best of friends, bonding over Beatles, booze and Baudelaire ( the last being fiction of course, included merely for alliterative kicks). We’ve seen each other a few times since then, Corin and his family have visited us in London and Cardiff and Mary and I have been over to Somerville, Mass to stay with them. A couple of years ago, just after I killed bravecaptain with a swift but meaningful blow to the back of his screwcurl head, Corin organised a few gigs up and down the East Coast. Some were acoustic sets in Coffee Houses and some were normal club gigs. Corin played bass, organised everything and I got drunk and played out of time, forgetting words, tunes, chords and my own name along the way. (I didn’t play again for a long time after that, didn’t do any music. I bought a camera and started sticking images together, waiting for the sounds to return). Otherwise, we make do with transatlantic mails, phonecalls and the occasional random telepathia. He also introduced me to Al fucking Kooper! Serious, we went to his house and everything (’Martin, are you sniffing my records’? Al said to me at one point. I was).
Corin was a member of Boston power pop band, The Pills. He released a solo album full melancholic self doubt and beauty . He also does an ace ukulele version of ‘Head Over Heels’ by Tears for Fears, a song we both love. He lives in Massachusetts with his wife, Darcey and their son, Harrison (The Bee).
I love him.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
I’m in my stu- stu- studio-otherwise known as the spare bedroom upstairs. I’m surrounded by a Jawa’s phalanx of outdated gear: an RMI electro piano such as Linda McCartney played with Wings, A Hofner bass just like the one her less-known husband played in some band, an analog 8 track recorder, guitars everywhere, thousands of albums and books teetering on over- burdened shelves, a morass of wires and a Fender vibro champ. I’ve got a poster on the wall from when the Pills played in Barcelona and a painting that you gave me.
2. Which Beatle wife would you be?
Oooh, that’s a rough one. I’ll discount wives who were not wives during the Beatle years, so no Olivia or Barbara. I mean, Patti was so cute, but did you read her book? Oofa. Linda had the best marriage, but the worst British accent. Cynthia, I think, is the one to be- even with the shitty end to her marriage. She was there for the all the best parts. Could I be Astrud instead?
3. “Why count the days..” writes Dostoevsky in ‘The Brothers Karamazov’,
“..when even one day is enough for a man to know all happiness.”
What would be your perfect day?
I’ve had a number of perfect days with you and Mary, so I totally dig on old Fyoder’s sentiment (and his travel guides are ace). Actually, lately I’ve been getting really fruity for trees. Me and the wee man have been doing these Sunday hikes in the woods near our house. There’s this big reservoir in a grove of pines and we take our trusty bulldog Pretzel for protection against wild beasties. It’s just beautiful back there: there’s a certain quietness that is unique to a pine grove and the way the sun shimmers through the tops of the trees is very magical. Harrison loves to walk along the edge of the reservoir and he has so many questions, but we usually end up talking about trees. He can identify pine, white birch, dogwood and “the mighty oak”. When we come out of the woods, there’s a huge open space called the sheep fold where people bring their dogs to run. Sometimes, there are a hundred dogs there and one expects to see Steve Winwood in a tweed overcoat with a bunch of Irish wolfhounds. Anyway, if we can find a poo- free spot, Harrison and I lay down and describe the clouds to each other and let Pretzel romp himself into a froth. After a couple of hours, we go home and tell Darcey about our adventures and that’s a pretty perfect day. Sometimes there are snacks.
4. You have been given a box containing infinite song components.
Which of these components would you use to construct the perfect song?
Oh man, I wish. I’d take two parts “wild mercury sound”, a splash of “teenage symphony to God”, the sound of Christianity vanishing and shrinking, a spoonful of truth and then hopefully, somehow add one part originality. That last ingredient is where I always fall short.
5. What was the best job, outside of music, that you ever had?
For 5 years, when I was in my early 20’s, I drove tourists around in big orange trolleys and gave tours of Boston and Cambridge- a fine balance of historical ephemera and ludicrous humor (Ted Kennedy jokes= tips). I was in a continuous loop for 5 years and had this amazing relationship with the city where I got to know every nook and cranny, every meter maid on the route. All the restaurants would give us free food to mention them, it was great. I gave thousands of tours and I think I still hold the record for making the most tips in one day ($304). We had our hats overturned for tips and a little sign above asking for them (which I would do the drum fills from “Won’t Get Fooled Again” on to make sure nobody missed). At one point, I realized that I had become the greatest trolley tour guide in the world. I could get away with unbelievable things on the trolley. Tourists would just do whatever I asked; I convinced a group of guests to follow me off the trolley to go swimming fully clothed in the reflecting pool at the Christian Science Center. I got a whole group of people to yell out “We’re not wearing any pants” during a live newscast the Governor was giving on the steps of the state house. I would stop the trolley and take the whole group for ice cream. One time, when the trolley was full, a blustery red-faced woman yelled at me and said “I demand a ride” and I told her there was a broom in the back. Her husband died laughing.
I was also playing in a band that did a lot of shows in New York at the time and I would get home, take a shower and go directly to work, so I would occasionally have to pull over to “adjust my mirrors” and go vomit in an alleyway before continuing the tour. The entire trolley company was crazy drunkards and many of the ticket sellers were Irish girls with very flexible morals. One time I was giving the tour, looking at the guests in the mirror above me, when in the back row I spotted a familiar face. I kept looking back and discovered Robin Williams sitting in the very last seat with a hoodie on. I made the secret Mork from Ork handshake sign at him and he put his fingers against his lips. I continued with my regular routine and at the end, as he exited, he whispered “You’re a funny motherfucker” in my ear and put $50 in my hat.
6. You live near Boston which, as we are all aware, was named after the ages ago rock band. Have you ever bumped into a Boston?
I do not like the rock band Boston, I do not think they are wicked pissa, no suh. However, when I first moved here, at the tender age of 18, my Mom and I went to the Hard Rock Cafe- we are simple country folk so looking at Prince’s purple cape & boots is quite exotic for us- and I recognized Tom Scholz sitting at a nearby table. Up to that point, the only famous musician I had ever spoken to was hometown hero Daryll Hall and it went well, so I figured I had a knack for it and went over to say hello. I nervously approached and introduced myself, said that I had just moved to Boston to go to music college and he was relatively gracious and wished me luck. We talked briefly about how he made the first Boston album in his apartment with cables running out to a mobile truck to transfer the tapes. It was a perfectly valid interaction, but I didn’t know what else to say. There was an uncomfortable eternity where I tried to “hang” and, grasping for straws, I said to the man who took 8 years between albums “So, what are you working on now?” and he looked right at me and said “Right now I’m just working on trying to eat my lunch” and I slithered away humiliated.
7. I’ve had this headache for weeks now, I’ve taken pills, given up my piano lessons and tried not to stress too much about money and stuff.
What would your advice be?
Despite your magnificent 3-D coiffure, I have long feared that your head will be your un-doing. So much good comes out of it that I can’t recommend a replacement unit, you may just have to soldier on with the one you’ve got. Have you seen a cranium doctor? Regarding worry, there is a case to be made for that being quite reasonable.
8. I know you’ve visited the UK a couple of times. If you had to describe this country and it’s people to an interplanetary researcher what would you say?
That’s a pretty big question. I mean, you know I love you little spotty buggers, but how to put it in words? You know, when I saw that travel show about the guys fishing in Cornwall with their little day boats, I wanted to live there. And when we played in Aberdeen and I spent the night in a hammock surrounded by rabbits, I wanted to move to Aberdeen. And when I saw Leslie Ash in the garden shed in Quadrophenia, I wanted to move to Brighton. And the first time I was ever in Liverpool, it felt like coming home. And certainly there is no more exciting city than London. I guess the question is really more about the people and I suppose you must have as many douchebags as we do, but I’ve never met them. There’s a certain something to English people that can only comes from there having always been an England. You have better table manners than us, for one thing, and the sense of sarcasm without malice is most endearing. Ultimately, you have to respect a culture that reserves a warm spot in their collective hearts for complete loons.
9. What is your favourite time of day?
Whenever I see an e-mail from you in my inbox! Let’s see, I have gotten up to pee at 4:11 AM every night for the last 25 days, so that must be my favorite time of day. I really like that little zone right before I fall asleep when everything gets all cosmic and half- dreamy.
10. The football season is drawing to a close. Tragically, Manchester Utd have won the Premiership. What do
you think of Liverpool’s chances next season?
I feel like Kevin Garnett and Leon Poe’s knee injuries prevented the Celtics from being serious contenders against the Magic in the semi- finals (although it’s arguable whether they would have had any chance at all against Cleveland if they had won the series). Coach Rivers’ reliance on his starters and reluctance to use the bench led to Paul Pierce being ineffectual in game 7 and, coupled with Ray Allen’s inconsistent performance throughout, really blew their chances and fans have a right to question those decisions. I mean, we have a strong bench and two starters with injuries. Why wear them out?
And I still want a Liverpool scarf!
St Bedes Middle School Football Team 1980
Alright, it’s not going to take too long to spot me is it? Sice is there as well, as is my twin brother, Calum. I can remember all of these names although not necessarily the faces. Mr McCurry (top left) used to be our form teacher as well as managing the school team. He used to smoke all the way through the lessons, lining his butts up on the desk in front of him. I’m convinced my indolence on the football pitch drove him to an early grave. Imagine Berbatov without the talent, that was me - a ‘fanny dancer’. Out there on the right wing I was quick, lightning fast, but easily distracted. I wanted to be good, don’t get me wrong, I just wanted someone to be good for me while I went about more important things, like watching Top of the Pops or reading girls books about gymkhanas and boarding schools.
I didn’t play after 1982. Oh, I would kick a ball around with Sice - I once scored the greatest goal ever scored by anyone within the fading light of a summers evening on a lonesome field in North Carolina. Sice will back me up on this - and we sometimes played a match on tour but nothing serious. Before each game, while somebody was sorting out positions, I would wander out to the right wing, light a cigarette and hope that nobody would pass to me.
Then, somehow, in 1998 Sice and I ended up playing a weekly game run by NME journalists in Regents Park, where, 450 years earlier; Henry VIII had spent many a fine afternoon popping royal caps in deers asses. The day before, I had bought a copy of ‘Michael Owens Soccer School’ video, sneaking it back to my flat for some late night revision. I fast forwarded through the warm up exercises, ridiculous, and drunkenly taught myself the step over with a cushion. On our way to the park Sice and I had to stop off at Oxford Street to buy some footy boots as neither of us had owned a pair for sixteen years. I, of course, bought the most expensive boots in the store. They had lights, three gears and the longest, most brutal metal studs you can imagine. We got to the park, it was a sticky evening, the going was good to barren and my studs were made from plutonium.
I fast forwarded through Sice and the others warming up. Ridiculous. I leant in the shade and smoked a cigarette idly going through the step over technique in my head. Then, while the captain sorted out the positions, I hobbled out to the dusty right wing - moving like I was wearing twenty four high heeled shoes - and waited. I didn’t have to wait long, the ball came to me almost immediately, I pushed it past the defender and ran, pulled a calf muscle, fell over and was sick. As I lay there, pulling bits of puke out of my hair, I saw the scout from Liverpool FC shaking his head sadly and ripping up a contract that had my name on it, slowly walked back towards his car. It was all over..
But then last year ( I didn’t intend to write any of this, I just put the photo up so we could all have a laugh at my hair) while we were staying in London I was strong-armed by my friend Pete to join his weekly Tuesday Night Crouch End Dads Astroturf Game down on Holloway Road. What could I say? It was his house, he held the keys to the fridge. So at the age of 39 I joined in with everyone as they warmed up before wandering out to shiver on the right wing. The ball came to me early again, I collected it, pushed it past the defender and…nothing. I looked down at my legs, wondering why they weren’t pumping down the flank like a pair of Stephenson’s pistons but they stared at me mournfully and shrugged (can legs shrug?) ‘You’re old now la’, they seemed to say ‘now fall over and be sick, nobody will mind’. I didn’t of course, I played on and accepted the fact that my main strength, my burst of speed, had gone - never to return. I played the holding game, even pulled off a couple of stepovers but was generally happy not to be too involved. I turned up for a couple of months until I found an excuse not to. And so into that long dark void of retirement, my trophy cabinet bare and not a punditry job in sight. The end of the road.
So long the beautiful game.
Pulverising riffs, tender figures and howling dissonance, Mogwai have been doing it for me for nearly fifteen years now. One of two bands (SFA being the other one) that cause me to yearn for the laughs, closeness and camaraderie that come with being in a band. Funny, generous and fierce - check out ‘Batcat’. I caught up with Martin who, when his heart isn’t exploding or he’s not battering the shite out of Guitar Hero, plays the drums for the best Scottish band since The Jesus & Marychain.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
We are playing a show in Denver CO tonight in a venue called the Bluebird. The gig is such a dirty, horrible, stinking hole that we have all decided to stay on the bus rather than spend any more time than needs be there. The venue also has a compressor on the PA system which they won’t turn off so the show tonight is going to sound fucking atrocious.
So, I’m sitting on our bus, the aircon isn’t cold enough, the tv doesn’t work and neither does the sound system. All in all it’s been quite an interesting day so far. Speed on the show!
2. I had a proper job once and I am highly offended by the suggestion that what
I do now isn’t considered as such. What’s your favourite thing about not having a proper job?
Well, before Mogwai started becoming our main source of income I used to work in a Cantonese restaurant. I worked there on average 70 hours a week, that included split shifts and weekends. It was pretty hard trying to combine shows and tours etc with that so I quit. Anyway, even although I get paid alot better being in the ‘Gwai, when you are on tour or in the studio the days can be just as long and tiring. I do think that most people back home think it’s all wild parties and snorting coke from bare breasted ladies but I’m sure you know very well that the Mogwai experience is one big sausage party.
Aye, so the best thing about not having a day job is that you get to sleep in as long as you want. I do really like the traveling aspect too.
3. How far is the moon from the earth? Don’t google it, I’ll know if you do. I will.
Stuart once told me it was “about 5miles” to the moon and he sincerely believed that. It must be mentioned that Stuart’s father, who is without doubt the cleverest person I have ever met, makes telescopes for a living.
4. ‘Does she go?’ You used to hear that question alot when I was younger, ‘Does she go?’ Meaning, obviously, ‘Does she go? I used to just say nothing. I thought they meant ‘does she urinate?’ and I would wonder why on earth anyone would want to know that. I also didn’t know that David Attenborough was Dickie Attenborough’s brother until last year. What hilarious misconceptions do you labour under?
My wife told me it’s thinking that I am going to be beheaded by Abu Siaf if I set foot in the Philippines. She has family there and keeps on at me to go over. I keep saying no.
5. Who is the funniest member of Mogwai? Please provide three examples of this.
This is a hard one. I think they are all funny in different ways. If you are talking about which member is always cracking jokes and making people/himself laugh then it would be Francis Barry Burns. Stuart is also extremely funny in that way and has very good patter. He’s really quick witted so can be a bit of a slayer when it comes to slanging matches. Dominic is usually very quiet but also very sarcastic. It’s actually hard to tell when he is being serious. He also has a tremendous knack of having a few whiskies and coming out with some of the best one-liners you’ll ever hear. We’ve got some great new potential song titles from him eg. “drunken horny rage” and “arrested in a bus full of friends” to name but a couple. I guess you had to be there though. And John, John is just funny.
6. People keep banging on about the complex and bewildering number of genres in music nowadays. Now you and I know that this is patent rubbish. There’s ‘Pop’, ‘Rock’ and ‘Electronic Folk Metal’. Now I’m not going tell you which one I think you are (no fear) but maybe you think you’re one of the other ones, ‘Pop’ say, or ‘Rock’. How would define what you do?
Avant hard with hard bits.
Shagging music.
7.New employment laws dictate that you must employ one more member. Who would it be?
Probably our old friend and collaborator Luke Sutherland although I’m sure he’d tell us to fuck off. Luke used to be in the amazing Long Fin Killie and now writes books for a living. He’s played violin and guitar on some of our records and is one of the best human beings I’ve met. He doesn’t drink but likes to stack the empty cans.
8. You can pass three laws that will make Britain a better place. What are they?
First one would be to make me dictator, I would in turn dissolve the Royal family. I would then split the UK into 3 countries, Wales, Scotland and England and give the 6 counties back to the Irish. You take charge of England, give Gruff his beloved Wales.
As dictator of Scotland all public services that were once State owned before that cunt Thatcher sold them off would once again be owned by the people, everyone would have a home. Scotland’s nuclear deterrent would be scrapped and I would give myself a nice country estate to run the country from in a Putin-esque style. Oh, and military service for neds. If they like fighting so much they can do it in the name of Scotland. Utopia, no?
9. What can you tell us about the genesis, writing and recording of the ‘The Precipice’?
We took 4 amps, a generator, a drumkit, several guitars and effects to the edge of a cliff. The very edge. Pressed play on the dictafone and that’s what came out. Sheer majestic majesty .
10. Dominic138 of Twitter writes.
“Minneapolis last night was a bit of a shambles, computer meltdowns, wrong tunings and inter-band onstage confusion. I was awesome though.”
What happened? Did you have a fight, a proper fight with big sticks and Glasgow kisses? Was anyone sacked? Should Dominick be now considered the true heart and ipso facto leader of Team Mogwai?
There was no violence whatsoever. We thought about it but Dom gave us one of his icy cold stares and we all ran like whimpering children. Since Mogwai’s inception in 1995, Dom has always been the cold and calculating evil genius pulling the strings. Stuart always comes across as being the public face of the ‘Gwai but in actual fact he is Dom’s bitch.
This weeks Ten Questions were thrown at Alan McGee. I first met Alan in 1991 in a pub in Hackney. He was seated at a table chatting with Lydia Lunch. I have no idea what we talked about but he put me up in a hotel that night as I had missed my train back up North. Over the years since we’ve had a up and down relationship but he remains, as the founder of my favourite Record Label, Creation Records, a big influence on my teenage years. Now retired, he looks after his daughter and, if his Tweets are to be believed, spends the rest of the time drinking coffee and giving the Finnish staff and assorted WAGs who frequent his pool inspirational talks on the benefits of Sushi.
1. Where are you? Describe your immediate surroundings.
on couch in london till i move to wales in july
2. Anybody following you on Twitter would think that you are a crass, rude, arrogant, money obsessed, caffeine fueled,
sushi gobbling bully, but in person you are a sensitive, generous and articulate man. Do you consciously adopt a public
persona or does it happen naturally after so many years of fighting your corner?
i agree on all points the thing is i truly don’t give a fuck
3. Which year at Creation Records do you feel was your best in terms of artistic/business satisfaction?
1991 1992 for the music we never got rich till 97 i liked the end bit best video ever is kevin rowland video we rocked
4. You once described ‘Wake Up Boo’ as an ‘Atrocity Exhibition’ which, as I’m sure readers will know, was the title of a J.G Ballard novel.
He’s dead now and, let’s be honest, you have to shoulder some of the blame for that. What other records (records, not bands) that came out on Creation would
you rather have come out on another label, if at all?
Loveless isn’t anything and soon I hate mbv I wish I had never signed them tuneless garbage
5. You’ve retired. Is that for good? C’mon you can’t sit around drinking coffee forever. What’s next?
the school run and the great thing is i don’t have to go in
6. If Creation had folded after a couple of singles what do you think you would be doing now?
on a park bench
7. The thing I most like about you is the fact that your interpretation of Rock’n'Roll is whatever you happen to be doing at any given time. Is the idea of
four-pale-young-things-with-guitars-as-rebellious-act redundant now?
no because glasvegas and the grants still make me believe it’s possible
8. I’ve noticed on your tweets that you regularly lambast LA and Shoreditch as being ’shitholes’ yet you live in St John’s Wood which is really just a Beatle-
themed graveyard. Where in the world do you feel most at home?
i actually live in primrose hill all the celebs moved into my road so i moved into another of my properies
9. How many readers of your guardian blog could you fight in one go?
i’m 48 martin then again probably so are they
10. “Fate is kind to me” exclaims Grigory Petrovitch Liharev in Chekov’s ‘On the Road’ ; “I am always meeting splendid people”
Which person were you most glad to meet?
dan treacy of tv personalities he is still a punk rocker and showed me even a twat like me could run a record company
