Day 69 – Oh, what’s occurrin’?: Today is a great day – Gavin and Stacey returns to television, so in honour of that, I’ve searched my archives for a Welsh rock star to post as today’s pic.  Here’s what I found, former Stereophonics drummer Stuart Cable.  This was taken when he drummed for Stone Gods at the Birmingham Barfly last September – a one-off performance which I was very lucky to shoot.

Hello folks,

Tim & Sam have been offered a slot at Xfm’s monthly Xposure live night at The Barfly in Camden on Thursday 3rd of December.

It should be an amazing show by all accounts, they are playing the main support slot for Warner signed Animal Kingdom.

John Kennedy has been a long term supporter of Tim & Sam, the band a delighted to play for him.

Click the image below to purchase tickets:

A cidade do Rock Indie Brasil é Goiânia e não é de hoje… do fim dos anos 80 em diante apareceu no mapa e não saiu de cena. Esse ano a coisa promete será uma FESTA maluca e roqueira … confiram as dicas… e não se esqueçam que o calor é animal nessa ROCK CITY.

Esta edição do Goiânia NOISE será espalhada pela cidade com shows em 8 lugares diferentes e conta ainda com uma mostra de cinema e uma exposição de artes, além de palestras e debates.

Os shows ocorrerão em 8 locais diferentes, da seguinte forma:

Quarta-feira, 25/11:
Teatro Madre Esperança Garrido, 20h: Hermeto Pascoal e Grupo (SP)
Fiction Club, 22h: Vamoz (PE) / The Soundscapes (SP/USA) / Motherfish (GO)
Capim Pub, 19h: Os Cabeloduro (DF)/ HC 137 (GO) / Leptospirose (SP)/ Ressonância Mórfica (GO) / Señores (GO)

Quinta-feira, 26/11:

Goiânia Ouro, 20h – Siba (PE) + Roberto Corrêa (DF) / Cega Machado (GO)
Bolshoi Pub, 22h – Ricardo Koctus (MG) / Detetives (SP) / Johnny Suxxx and Fucking Boys (GO)
Metrópolis, 22h – The Name (SP)/ Sapatos Bicolores (DF) / Bang Bang Babies (GO)

Sexta-feira, 27/11:
Centro Cultural Martim Cererê, 18h :

Supersuckers (USA) / Móveis Coloniais de Acaju (DF) + Bocato (SP) / MQN (GO) + Walverdes (RS)
Devotos (PE) / Guiso (Chile) / Vivendo do Ócio (BA) / Punch (GO) / Milocovik (SP) / Volver (PE) / Rinoceronte (RS)
O Melda (MG) / Sattva (GO) / Hellbenders (GO)

Sábado, 28/11:
Centro Cultural Martim Cererê, 18h :

Dirty Projectors (USA) / Black Drawing Chalks (GO) + Chuck Hipolitho (SP) / Mama Rosin (Suíça)
Porcas Borboletas (MG) + Paulo Patife (SP) / Los Lotus (ARG) / Mugo (GO) / The Backbiters (GO)
As Mercenárias (SP) / Mechanics + Grupo EmpreZa (GO) / Confronto (RJ) / GrimSkunk (Canadá)
Cassim & Barbária (SC) / Mini Box Lunar (AP) / Evening (GO)

Domingo, 29/11:
Centro Cultural Martim Cererê, 18h :

Diego de Moraes e o Sindicato (GO) + Astronauta Pingüim (RS) / Violins (GO) / Domá da Conceição (GO) / Barfly (GO)
Naquele Tempo (GO) / Torre de Jamel (GO) / Terrorista da Palavra (GO) / Umbando (GO) / Grace Carvalho (GO)
20h30 – Gloom (GO) / Cine Capri (GO) / Hot and Hard Co. (GO)

Centro Comunitário Goiânia Viva, 18h :

Face a Face (GO) / Ivo Mamona (GO) / Soldados Suburbanos (GO) / Reverso da Moeda (GO) / Linha Dura (MT)
U Plano (GO) / Eko (GO)

INGRESSOS

Fiction Club, Capim Pub, Bolshoi Pub e Metropolis: R$ 10,00 (meia-entrada) até o dia 20/11

Martim Cererê (sexta e sábado): R$ 20,00 (meia-entrada) até o dia 20/11

Centro Comunitário do Goiânia Viva: R$ 5,00

Martim Cererê (domingo): Grátis!!!

Teatro Madre Esperança Garrido e Goiânia Ouro: Grártis!! Mas é preciso retirar os ingressos 2 horas antes dos shows! Um par por pessoa, ok??

a self portrait of Charles Bukowski at work

Not too long ago, I discovered a stack of about 50 copies of Ham and Rye, by Charles Bukowski, sitting in one of the local bookstores that is located in our downtown area in Portland, Maine. No, this great American writer did not all of a sudden find a surge of hidden popularity, here along the rocky coastline of Maine, but rather his classic novel was required reading at one of the local universities and so this bookstore had found it necessary to stockpile one of “Hank’s” more important works of fiction.

Still, since that great day of discovery, I have found a new fascination with the big boozer, which has been spurred on by two DVD’s of his movies (Barfly and Factotem), along with a lengthy biography (Locked in the Arms of a Crazy Life by Howard Sounes) and several readings of his poetry, which have come my way courtesy of “You Tube”.

All in all, it is a fascinating record and literary achievement by one of America’s most loved and eccentric authors. I suppose now the late Mr. Bukowski is reaching that stage in his literary career, where he will be become more of a standard fare among college students and scholars.

From what little I have sampled of his poetry, I have found it to be quite humorous and profound all at the same time. In fact there are some great links on You Tube to various people reading his poems. There are even some video clips of Bukowski reading his own poetry. Here’s one of him reading, “Bluebird”, (audio only). And here’s another link to the poem, “The Tragedy of the Leaves”. Both of these come from You Tube.

Charles Bukowski at work

But unfortunately there was a very dark side to “Henry” or  “Hank” as he was often called. The two films barely scratched the surface, but Howard Sounes, travels far into the alcoholic and sometimes violent world of  Bukowski, for it seems that not only did the poet have a problem with alcohol, he also had a problem of violent fights and feuds with some of his female acquaintances, especially when he was in an inebriated state. Some of these altercations  left Bukowski in the slammer for a few days

His life story is something else. Born in Germany, Charles immigrated to America with his parents, eventually finding a home in the L.A. area. As a teenager he had an extreme case of acne that is hard to fathom and so his main solace became the public library in Los Angeles. From a childhood spent coming of age during the height of the depression Charles developed a wit, an attitude and a style that would eventually make him a much read poet and novelist, known the world over. From what I have read and that is not very much his literary efforts are well worth the time invested.

John Huston’s overlooked masterpiece follows the struggles of boxers and boozers in Northern California.

At what point does life pass you by? When and how do you reconcile yourself that your hopes and dreams, no matter how sincere, are not going to come true? John Huston’s superb 1972 life-on-the-skids drama Fat City, adapted by Leonard Gardner from his own novel, follows two boxers who pass each other on the escalator of success. One is rising  just slightly up, the other is starting a long road down. The two are guided by a trainer and manager whose belief in the sweet science is an act of faith, and hindered by women who trap them for the most mundane of reasons. There are no miraculous comebacks planned, no short trips to glory. Their tragedy is that they are average, working class people in a working class sport, in a small city where work is almost all there is.

Yet Huston (who spent a brief time as an amateur boxer himself)  and Gardner never let the story get bogged down, focusing instead on character development and context rooted in compassion. Billy Tully (Stacy Keach) was once a promising heavyweight until an ill-fated marriage combined with a disastrous loss in Panama to end his career. Reduced to sleeping in flophouses and working the fields outside the dreary Northern California town of Stockton, as the film begins he’s nonetheless not quite finished with himself. Working out at the YMCA, he happens across Ernie Munger (Jeff Bridges), a kid fresh out of high school with talent to burn. Tully recognizes Ernie’s gift and encourages him to see his old manager Ruben Luna (Nicholas Colasanto).

Ruben takes the boy under his wing, training him and putting him into a stable of up-and-coming fighters who tour neighboring towns to fight in  gritty matches with small purses and high risks of injury. Ernie loses his first fight, even getting his nose broken, but throughout Ruben encourages his fighters with visions of riches to come. An early scene in which the old man expresses his hopes for Ernie to his wife tells his life’s story: she doesn’t bother rousing from a half-sleep to listen, because she’s heard it many times before, about many fighters who’ve come and gone.

Meanwhile Tully has fallen into the orbit of a bitter drunk named Oma (Susan Tyrrell), stealing her away from her imprisoned boyfriend over the course of one long, boozy conversation. The two settle into a shabby domesticity, with Tully sliding into the part of caretaker and companion to Oma’s blowsy dissipation. The two are so pathetic in their slow-burning need for one another, with Keach and Tyrrell so adept at circling each other, that the scenes focused on them are almost painful to watch.

Ernie keeps fighting, winning amateur matches while planning the arrival of a child with his girlfriend Faye (Candy Clark). Tired and exhausted by the rigors of the fields, Tully returns to Ruben’s gym, getting himself together long enough to qualify for a comeback match. But his previous career casts a long shadow, and Ruben is only able to secure him a match against Arcadio Lucero (Sixto Rodriguez), a Mexican fighter with a reputation for fierce efficiency. Tully wins the long and brutal bout, not so much from his own skill as from Lucero’s secret kidney injury. “Did I get knocked out?” Tully asks as the final bell rings.  Rather than gloat, he embraces the hurting Lucero, giving the film a moment of transcendent grace.

A moment that doesn’t last. Tully has no more left the match than a long-simmering grudge against Ruben erupts again, sending him into a self-destructive tailspin that’s worsened by finding Oma reunited with her paroled boyfriend (real-life welterweight champ Curtis Cokes). The final scenes of the film are a heartbreaker. Tully and Ernie kill time in a decrepit cafe, with a possibly punchdrunk, possibly drunk Tully realizing the emptiness of the life before him in a devastating moment of clarity. The story ends with the ambivalence that was so common throughout the 70s, challenging the audience to put the pieces together for themselves.

Huston and cinematographer Conrad L. Hall (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid) cast the town of Stockton, full of Depression-era buildings and rooms poorly lit by too much flourescent glare, with an objectivity that never condemns or celebrates the town’s ramshackle durability. Like its inhabitants, the town weathered adversity but didn’t come out of hard times unscathed. The cast, Keach and Tyrrell especially, give their roles a profoundly lived-in feel (ironic for Keach, given his subsequent well-publicized battles with drug addiction) that rings true without ever seeming patronizing. Keach is mesmerizing, allowing glimmers of youth and charm to shine through Tully’s hard knock present, even while bitterness and rage keep him from moving forward.

Of the supporting characters, while Colasanto would later carve a place for himself in TV history as Ernie “Coach” Pantusso on Cheers, here he’s equally moving as a trainer with bigger hopes than he can handle. Finally, real-life lightweight champion Rodriguez, in his only film appearance, makes the most of every second as the outwardly menacing Lucero. Watch for the scene of him leaving the arena alone after the fight, departing with his dignity intact despite defeat.

- Michael Kabel

:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::

I had been excited to see Japandroids live for few months.
Since I stumbled upon their album online, since I finally snatched a CD copy at Rough Trade East, even before I read Pitchfork reviewer (and many more) going nut for them.

Japandroids‘ pure garage sound is so catchy that falling in love with it was a matter of few seconds.

I can’t remember which was the last emerging band I have been looking forward to seeing as much.
So much that I arrive at the Camden Barfly on a Friday night early. So early that the door of the concert room were still closed.

Imagine where my excitement did go when I discovered that this Japandroids‘ last date of their minitour, and first London appearance, was part of the “club night”. It translates in “the two Vancouver guys will not walk the stage before midnight!”. Wonderful, four hours to go, what to do?

While I was texting to join some friends to the other side of London for a Thai dinner, the promoter of the first night offered me access to his 3 bands. I thought it could be interesting, it was not, so I’ll save you from these.

Before the proper club night still much time. A sort of Libanese dinner kindly offered by Camden Town never ending food suppliers, a couple of beers and some i-Phone mediated social networking helped.
I head to the room early also to avoid being caught in the advice saying that the gig is overcrowded and not everyone will gain access to the Japandroids concert. That was not an option!

Another band opens from them, another one I’ll skip because the moment is arriving. The moment for Brian King, the guitarist and David Prowse, the drummer, to come on stage setting up their instruments.

I am curious to have a look at jacks, amplis, microphones. I also, in vain, look for a setlist that does not appear.

In recent times there has been an over inflation of guitar/drums duos. It may be due to the White Stripes trend or the economic recession, I don’t know. Fact is that out of the 100-ish bands I reviewed in this pages, Japandroids are the 7th guitar/drum ensemble.
From The raw blues of the Black Keys to the punkish Blood Red Shoes from the noise of No Age to the dance-pop of the Ting Tings from the New York City low key electronic rock of The Kills to the melodic garage of the Crocodiles. It’s tough times for bass players.

Among the many promising new bands exploring the limits of noise there is one that stands out. Japandroids.
No question.
Post Nothing, their debut album, is simply outstanding.
It is one of those albums that pushes the bar up. It’s like setting a new high jump world record. The stick is moved up and anyone left, to stay in the competition, has to match a new height.
As Bon Iverdid the same to the alt.folk world, Japandroids freshness have reshaped the concept of noise-garage-rock in the 21st century.

Originally out only on Vinyl from an obscure Canadian label, Unfamiliar, someone at Polyvinyl has been quicker than anyone else to sign the band and press Post Nothing also on CD giving it the proper worldwide distribution it deserves. Well done!

From the artwork to the title you have the feeling there must be something special in there. When you play it you discover it indeed is. The album is a bomb. It hits you straight in the ears. It is immediate. It’s not overcomplicated or arranged. Either you like it or you don’t (you dont’t?!). There is no need to listen to it 20 times to understand it but if you get to listen to it twenty times it becomes part of you.

Live the bomb detonates. Its outbreak creates a heat-wave, an earthquake that surmount any single soul that is now packing the Barfly.
Exploiting my early arrival, I conquered my spot right on the front. I am literally two inches from the drum cymbals. Behind me it’s getting wild, a wonderful, peaceful eruption of rock’n'roll excitement.

The two guys on stage at the same time are surprised by their impact and motivated to rock the hell out of their instruments, which makes the feeling even bigger. As excited as their fans, the guitar is under attack, the drums assaulted for an hour of pure sonic bliss.

The outburst take the form of the most stripped down garage rock you can imagine. The most essential, tenacious, visceral, resistant I have met.
There is the energy of the Black Keys without the blues, the power of No Age without California’s excess (which is good). They are from Vancouver, not far from Seattle. It helps.

Japandroids music sticks to your dresses as a dirty oil spill from a motorcycle engine. You know it won’t clean anymore. Your clothes are hit and stained forever, your soul may well be too.

There is nothing special in Japandroids music. It is special.
There is nothing new. There are bands who play similarly today (No Age, Wavves) there were a plethora of bands playing this stuff in the 90s.

The alternative rock formula is as secret as the Coca Cola recipe.
Everyone tries to reproduce it, very few find the touch that makes the difference, that makes you taste so good.

To define the meaning of “difference” between songs all played with an heavy distorted guitar and rumbling drums is challenging. It is not about describing a technique, a musical approach. It’s not music critique. It is as describing an emotion, it’s psychology.
That is why, anyone who has been at the right (and the wrong) concert knows that very well, don’t need reviews. When you are there everything is sparkling clear.

The sound of Brian King’s guitar is one of the key elements of the sonic attack. He lets off all his post-adolescent energy into the music.
It sounds at the same time clean and dirt. Distorted, oversaturated and beautifully melodic.
This gives songs an harmonious core and a visceral side. It is not the usual My Bloody Valentine formula of pop songs submerged by feedback, it is inverted, layers of fuzz and noise producing harmonious pop songs.

I came across at least at one of the mysteries of this sound. I read somewhere that the guitar signal is split into two different amps. One is left clean, unperturbed. The other is dirt, distorted, saturated.
The feeling is a bigger sound, as it was played by two guitarists. The simplicity of a brilliant intuition.

David Prowse on drums is like a typhoon that no one will ever dare to face, to divert from the collision path he has with his mate.
There is no need. Brian knows exactly where David is going and David controls Brian’s derail with his drumsticks.
The mutual understanding between those two is simply wonderful. It can exist only between two guys that have been playing together (in a duo) for over three years.
They would find themselves blindfolded, in the dark, playing from two different continents or 2 different youtube channels. Go figure what happens when they are next to each other.

They are young, they are friend, they are achieving the dream of all the young friends putting on a ban have. Travel the world playing their music.

The desire emerges from most of their lyrics, likely wrote in some Vancouver flat, with in mind exactly what’s happening tonight.

The realization of a dream. They are in London, the world capital of rock music, in front of a crowd who is going crazy for their songs.

No wonder why singing:

“It’s raining In Vancouver
but I don’t give a fuck
because I’m far from home tonight”
[Sovereignty]

Has got the feeling of superpower that only who made it can have, and is now enjoying it.

The lyrics are as essential as the music. There is no need of literary tricks to say that all you want is in the end go, go, and go.

“The boys are leaving town,
will we find our way back home?
I don’t know”
[Boys are Leaving Town]

When the wish is discovering the world out there, with all its wonders

“Must get to France,
so we can French kiss
some French girls”
[Wet Hair]

It is the old Latin ‘Carpe Diem’ philosophy, to get it before it’s too late.
The fear of growing up you have when you are 20.

“We used to dream,
now we worry about dying,
I don’t want to worry about dying,
I just want to worry about those sunshine girls”
[Young Hearts Sparks Fire]

Which is their landmark song, the examplification of what Japandroids are.
Two Vancouver guys, with such a special sensitivity for the essence of rock music.

There was not a setlist on stage, the songs are lengthy on the album and become even lengthier live tonight. They insist on the same riff, on the same loop extending it until the hypnotic feeling hits you and you are lost into it.
As in Crazy/Forever the song I can’t get out of my mind since they played it. It’s like soundtracking a mantra, repeated endlessly. As a prayer to make the desire within it happen.

“We’ll stick together forever,
Stay sick together,
Be crazy forever”
[Crazy/Forever]

All we want, on the other side of the stage, is that this is going to happen, that Japandroids will stick together forever.
The rest will come out naturally. I came out with a T-Shirt saying: “No God, Only Japandroids”. Brilliant!

Check them out here [website] [myspace] [spotify]

Photo tip

This was raucous. Fun but it is not easy when, instead of just a T-shirt you are in the middle of a riot with a big bag, two cameras, several lenses and even too many clothes because you are Italian and out there the autumn is starting to be quite chilly.

There is obviously no pit at the Camden Barfly. Better get there early, well before the gig starts to take the right spot. It would become difficult once packed.
Ignore another beer or chatting to a friend, if you are serious about concert photography, you have to get to the front in advance and stay there, standing, sweating for long times.

Japandroids guitarist and drummer are one facing the other. Experience suggest the best spot is slightly on the right, basically in the middle between them, very close to the drums. Shooting drummers from very close is a rare pleasure.

In a no-pit bouncy situation you are not free to move without risking to lose your place or even your stuff, so it is important that you stick to the right place. That place is in the front, even ahead of diehard fans. There is no second or third row option.

For two reasons.
One is obvious, having no one between your lens and the band is a guarantee of better photos.
The other is practical, the front row is the calmer in a mad situation. Whatever happens in the back is filtered, mitigated once arrives to you. Ideal when you have your gear to protect (and to use).

One problem of this show, photography wise, was the big difference in lighting between Brian being in the spot and David in the shadow. A difference that is difficult to compensate when you are trying to frame both in the same shot.

Last, don’t forget your ultrawide angle, all these photos have been shot either with an 18mm or a 35mm lens. The feeling of being part of the scene comes from wide shots. Any longer lens and you lose it.

Cu Hot Club de Bucharest. Saptamana viitoare Margiiineeeanuuu. To Be Confirmed.

Bloody Awful Poetry have confirmed their first two acts for Chalk Farm’s New Year’s Eve Jamboree @ The Enterprise. The Penny Black Remedy and Run Toto Run will appear alongside a selection of Soundtracks’ best.

Here’s some stuff about the bands.

The Penny Black Remedy are influenced by the Elvis Presley, Johnny Cash, Tom Waits, The Mothers Of Memphis, The Clash, The Specials and many many more. And, fitting for a band that love the ‘classics’ , they’ve got a mighty classic sound. They’ve got heart, soul and all that other stuff, including a stage prescense that isn’t to be missed. But don’t just take our word for it, here’s what the others are saying…

“I judged 16 bands as part of the UK INDY Music Awards this year, and The Penny Black Remedy were definitely my favourite – Chris Cooke – Editor, CMU Music Network

Imagine a more focused Gogol Bordello with added x-factor and bigger hooks and you’re somewhere near to the sound of The Penny Black Remedy, this single has everything, energy, attitude, contagious lyrics and a killer tune. Music is my mistress and I’ve just been spanked!!!” – Will Munn, Rhythm & Booze, March 3rd 2009

and from the boys …..

“With enough Gogol Bordello to make them a cult phenomenon and enough Dylan to give them a 50 year shelf life. Its only a matter of time before you see their red star outside every venue in London.” - Keir Mills, Promoter ~ Bloody Awful Poetry Club, London, England

Run Toto Run are Rachael who writes the words,  does lead vocals, plays the flute, melodica and casio.
Mike who does synths, backing vocals, keys and guitar and K!d Farthing [otherwise known as Matt] who does violin, electronics and the clever stuff. All those things and only three people? Yes, you better believe it Run Toto Run are a three headed sprint through everything crazy and exciting about new music. Here’s what the others say.

“Like Sufjan Stevens going mad with samplers and keyboards”
The Manchester Evening News

“A curious mix of anti-folk and airy, Postal Service-indebted electronica”
The NME

“A delightful blend of high tech and lo tech acoustic and marvellous song writing”
Tom Robinson-BBC 6Music

… another indication that Manchester is crawling with talent”
Steve Lamacq

MORE ACTS TO BE ANNOUNCED SOON!

The Soft Pack live on the stage at Barfly, Camden.

They lighted up the stage of Barfly, Camden Town, on Thursday 5^th of November. The Soft Pack played amid the sparks on the night of the gunpowder, treason and plot. Their rock sounded were much powerful than those fireworks bursting outside.

Many people came to this gig and they knew exactly what they were being given: a first punch of newly rock´n´roll.

They are pointed as the best rock debut of the season. Such recognition is regarded to their background but highlight that their further musical career is being kicking off with a new six song’s album: “Extinction”.

It was a  short but highly intense performance. Their sound is a mix of indie and garage rock filled with guitar riffs and speedy drum beats. A noticeable feature is performed by drummer Brian Hill hitting the instrument standing up. In a quick talk he confessed he just discovered being on his feet is the best way to feel the music as he plays it.

Their sound is pretty much like those of The Strokes, Velvet Underground or the Modern Lovers. But for a clear understanding you better click on the play below.

Lined up with Matt Lamkin (vocals), Matty McLoughlin (guitar), David Lantzman (bass), Brian Hill (drums) the band was born in San Diego (California, US) just two years ago under the name of The Muslims, but due to “racism ignorance”, they changed it to the current name.

Their discography includes the singles “Parasites/Walking with Jesus” and Extinction (2008 as The Muslims) and “Nightlife/Bright Side” as The Soft Pack (2009)

Earlier this year they recorded “The Muslims EP” as a digital download format. “Extinction” is the first EP as The Soft Pack by 1928 Recordings released in May 2009.

Further listening at http://www.myspace.com/thesoftpack

The line-up for this year’s Chalk Farm Jamboree has been announced. With kings of sweat Ultimate Power at The Monarch, Camden’s “lads about town” Bloody Awful Poetry and Soundtracks set to announce their Enterprise bands soon, and Rogues headlining the Barfly, we’re already excited.

Get your wristbands now to avoid disappointment from….

Tickets
Booking Phone Line 0844 8472424

Online Bookings and for more information

http://www.monarchbar.com/

http://camdenenterprise.com/

Music Glue

http://www.barflyclub.com/

Donald insista sa beau asta:

Dar nu la pahar, la shot.
Contine:
15 ml Scotch
15 ml Amaretto
gheata

Se da scurt prin shaker, se toarna in shot, se bea cu responsabilitate

“I don’t want to go out”, I said, “I’m jetlagged, irritable and I have no clean underwear!”

“Watch this” my wise friend said, “you’ll change your mind”.

And hellz yeah I did. Obviously the hype surrounding Brooklyn’s The Drums has been unavoidable. “New York’s official Coolest New Band…this might be the most contagiously energetic NYC band of the past 10 years” say the NME; “One of the best indie pop debuts of the year” say Rolling Stone, and many other people of note have been saying similar things all equating to “OH WOW, THEY’RE AMAZING!! THEY MAKE MY BRAIN EXPLODE IN WONDER!! I WANT TO MAKE LOVE TO THIS MUSIC!!!! THIS MUSIC WILL HELP ME TO MAKE LOVE FOR LONGER!! THIS IS MY SUBSTITUTE FOR VIAGRA!!” You get the idea, the general vibe amongst the people who are paid to know is that The Drums are very good and you should definitely be name-checking them.

So last night, despite jetlag and the need for clean pants, I headed down to the Barfly to check out what’s so great about these Drums. Turns out, loads and loads. Industry types turned up in abundance, indicative of the a&r scrum that’s surrounding them right now. But despite an audience full of industry wankers and little in the way of G.P., The Drums made these generally cynical people move in ways that made them forget who they were. This is surf-pop with a difference. Sure, it’s sunny, there are whistled refrains, their first single is called ‘Let’s Go Surfing’ (released on Moshi Moshi) for God’s sake, but this is more than just a summer band. They’re surf-post-punk-with-a-bit-of-synth-a-hugely-enigmatic-frontman-backing-girlie-singers-and-a-crazy-tambourine-playing-man-with-hypnotising-loose-hips. This genre is what all the kids are digging down in Willamsburg. Possibly.

Anyone want to go surfing?

The Drums – Let’s Go Surfing

So if you haven’t heard about this lot yet then, hell, you’re missing out! The wonderful Frankie & The Heartstrings are from Sunderland and making the kind of tunes that we love over here at OIW. They’re all new and that, but being managed by Mark Bowen of Wichita and an upcoming tour with Florence and The Machine isn’t going to do them any harm.

It’s also pretty hard finding their tunes, even their myspace has a great big gaping hole where songs should be, so here’s a taster of a couple of demo tracks for you folks…

Frankie & The Heartstrings – Fragile

Frankie & The Heartstrings – Possibilities

And if you like that, then the lads are at Camden Barfly supporting The Drums tonight so swing on over and have a gander. There’s also a limited edition 7″ (777 copies available) out through Rough Trade Records in December, so keep checking the guys official store, Pop Sex (apparently that was nearly their name, thankfully abandoned!), for info plus all your merchandising needs ; ) www.popsexltd.com

Joia, inclusiv azi, la Barfly se canta jazz manouche live. Daca nu i-ati vazut deja, trebuie sa ne credeti pe cuvant – Hot Club de Bucharest suna intr-un mare fel.

Daca aveti chef de dans dupa concert, se rezolva. Mai jazzy, mai swingish, mai digital, mai analog.

Ştim că ştii cel puţin o poveste despre Barfly. Nu contează dacă ai trăit-o sau doar ai auzit-o. Spune-o în scris, pune-o pe mail sau pagina noastră de Facebook şi dăm un whisky. O sticlă de J&B, ca să fim mai precişi. Câştigătorul se anunţă pe blog, o dată la două săptămâni. Toate poveştile sunt publicate pe barflybuc.wordpress.com. Spor la vorbă!

Si la expresión “escritor de culto” es aplicable a alguien es sin duda a Charles Bukowski, paradigma del llamado “realismo sucio” de la literatura norteamericana contemporánea. Autor de decenas de novelas (La máquina de follar, Factótum o Pulp, por citar tres), multitud de relatos cortos e incontables poemas, era cuestión de tiempo que sus libros o la atmósfera que retrata en los mismos fueran llevados al cine, directamente o por imitación. El no menos de culto cineasta francés nacido en Teherán Barbet Schroeder (convertido en cineasta en plena nouvelle vague junto a Jean-Luc Godard y Jacques Rivette, y autor de películas tan variopintas, tanto en Hollywood como fuera de él, como More, La Vallé, Mujer blanca soltera busca, El misterio Von Bülow, La virgen de los sicarios o la impresionante dupla de documentales General Idi Amin Dada, sobre el dictador ugandés, y El abogado del terror, sobre el abogado Jacques Verges) llevó a la pantalla El borracho (Barfly, 1987), con guión del propio Bukowski inspirado en su propia biografía.

Su trasunto, Henry Chinaski (interpretado por Mickey Rourke en lo que bien podría haber sido el mejor papel de toda su carrera hasta su reciente y magistral caracterización de la derrota en El luchador), es un joven escritor, genial y lúcido, cuyas virtudes son favorecidas por el ingente consumo de alcohol y la vida nocturna a borbotones. Su local favorito es El cuerno de oro, lugar frecuentado por un conjunto de múltiples territorios humanos de la noche de lo más exótico: vagabundos, putas, tipos solitarios, desechos sociales y demás individuos marginales (incluido el propio Bukowski sentado en un taburete ante la barra). El aliciente de la noche suelen protagonizarlo Henry y Eddie, el barman del turno de noche, cuyas peleas son objeto de apuesta por el resto de los clientes. Si Henry gana, se gasta los pavos ganados en copas o putas. Si pierde, Jim, el barman del turno de día, le cura las heridas y le da alguna que otra copa gratis. Y así es la vida de Henry hasta que una noche conoce a Wanda (Faye Dunaway), una mujer de de belleza residual que tiene tanta afición a la soledad y al alcohol como él mismo.

La película es un catálogo de excesos interpretativos y narrativos, aunque para apreciarlos en lo que valen y no llevarse la impresión de que asistimos a una pantomima artificiosa, a un desbocado tributo a una vida al límite de alcohol, drogas y agresividad social, es imprescindible verla en versión original (la diferencia es tal, que la gran interpretación de Rourke se convierte en una nulidad en la versión doblada). Por lo demás, la película es más bien un producto para lectores fieles de Bukowski (o de la música: la banda sonora contiene piezas de Mahler, Beethoven, Mozart o Händel, entre otros), acostumbrados a esos personajes derrotados, a la figura del perdedor en escenarios de tugurios nocturnos, moteles, habitaciones cochambrosas, cucarachas, suciedad y barrios marginales de naves vacías, bares poco frecuentados y calles semidesiertas, retratado como un hombre desaliñado, sin afeitar, de ropa arrugada y llena de lamparones, de talento e inteligencia innegables pero de vida anárquica, sostenida por el alcohol, una vida en la que la comida pinta poco y el agua todavía menos, ni para beber ni por higiene. Y desde esa perspectiva, pequeñas dosis de lucidez en forma de reflexiones interesantes, de píldoras de sabiduría concentrada en lo que es un análisis demoledor de la sociedad actual, críticas devastadoras a una hipocresía instalada como valor fundamental y único de un desierto intelectual en el que los individuos ya no saben vivir como tales, sino produciendo por objetivos, vitales o económicos, utilizando para ello ese ser acabado como metáfora del alma del hombre contemporáneo, consumido por enormes debilidades sin que lo sepa o bien acomodándose a ello, resignándose, entregándose, revolcándose en ellas, asumiendo el final pero disfrutando de todo lo que le dan hasta que ese inevitable momento llegue. Un personaje, un esperpento deliberado cuyo rechazo por parte de la “gente bien” es una inteligente forma de retratar el inconsciente autorrechazo por sí mismos.

Dieciocho años más tarde, el noruego Bent Hamer recupera a Chinaski (interpretado esta vez de manera excelente por Matt Dillon, sin las excentricidades y muecas de Rourke y sin la lela pasividad gestual de Ben Gazzara) en la coproducción noruego-norteamericana Factótum (2005), la cual vuelve a bucear en los textos más sórdidos de Bukowski para componer una nueva historia biográfica sobre el personaje. En esta ocasión lo literario tiene más peso, y lo que en el film de Schroeder es meramente tangencial (Rourke retratado escribiendo en papeles sucios, a veces diminutos, en breves tomas o como voz en off que relata sus propios escritos), aquí es protagonista. Chinaski escribe y envía relatos a las revistas y editoriales. Sus trabajos siempre son rechazados, y tiene que aceptar empleos esporádicos que siempre abandona a los pocos días (incluso horas) para pagar su adicción al alcohol. Renunciando a una vida convencional en aras de la autenticidad, esto es, vivir al límite como única forma de vivir, Hank Chinaski se convierte en observador de una realidad que desgrana en sus escritos, al tiempo que los únicos incentivos diarios son el alcohol, las apuestas en las carreras de caballos y sus dos “amores”, Jan y Laura (Marisa Tomei y Lily Taylor). Paradójicamente, estas dos vidas alternativas que plantea Chinaski, la auténtica del observador que exprime el tuétano de la vida y la falseada del hombre acomodado que se miente a sí mismo, que vive una vida de comodidades materiales pero de vaciedad y convencionalidad anímica, sentimental e intelectual, son imcompatibles: sólo obtiene el éxito literario cuando se amolda a la vida común y corriente y pierde a Jan, el vehículo de sus excesos, de manera que una cosa lleva a la otra, o viceversa.

La película de Hamer apuesta por la sobriedad estética para contar su historia de excesos, a diferencia de Schroeder, que visualmente se nutre igualmente de ellos. Con más humor, y más cercana, paradójicamente, al contarnos la historia desde un punto de vista más distante pero con una perspectiva más clara, más global (interna y externa) de la figura del perdedor, resulta más visionable, más honesta y directa, evitando la sordidez innecesaria y haciendo mayor hincapié en el aprovechamiento, por parte del personaje, de sus propias cualidades, su dominio del alcohol y su carácter derrotado pero orgulloso, perdido pero agudo, con los pies en la tierra que quiere tenerlos pero sin desconocer la tierra que de vez en cuando hay que pisar para sobrevivir.

En suma, una excelente dupla de filmes, ninguno de ellos excesivamente largo (apenas superan los noventa minutos), para que los fans de Bukowski disfruten de su particular mundo trasladado a la pantalla grande con gran solvencia y exactitud, para que quienes desconozcan su literatura puedan apreciar los temas y atmósferas que la impregnan, y para que se abstengan los espectadores o lectores que gusten de las historias convencionales y planas que los mantienen a salvo de hacerse preguntas o incluso de la capacidad de respondérselas.

Development is still on going for the creation of the Camden Walk Of Fame. Musical figures including Jarvis Cocker, Jazzie B and Robin Gibb from The Bee Gees are still backing the plans to create a Walk of Fame on the main streets of Camden Town.

The documentary Film is well in the mix now, with yours truly (Bedroom London Ltd) on board to do the in show graphics.

The idea to lay a heritage trail is largely the brainchild of club impresario Lee Bennett and would see a series of slabs dug into the pavements to credit the famous names who have passed through the legendary music venues in Camden Town – just like the “stars” that line Hollywood Boulevard.
Mr Gibb described Camden Town as an “epicentre” of talent, adding: “I think it’s something we should have had a long time ago in this country because we have such a wealth of musical talent. Historically and culturally it’s all come from this country in the past 40 years and its time we celebrated and honoured that culture.”

Film-maker Nick Mason has captured a series of celebrity endorsements on camera. S sneak preview of the film shows Soul II Soul star Jazzie B raving about Camden Town.

“It was the easiest place to kick a lock off a door so that was the place it all went down,” he said. “The Walk of Fame is an innovation.”
Other bands said the area became so synonymous with good music that there were sometimes more record company executives than fans in the crowds at clubs like the Dublin Castle, Barfly and the Electric Ballroom.

The Dub Pistols described Camden as an “A & R man’s dream” while The Cribs and the New Young Pony Club recalled how they were both signed after doing one gig in the area.

Others proved their fondness for heady party days by… not remembering them. Jarvis Cocker said: “I can’t exactly recall… Camden in the Britpop era… erm…”, before a five-second pause. He did remember a gig at the Underworld around 1992, when Suede supported his then-fledgling band Pulp.

“A week later they were massively more famous than us,” Mr Cocker added.
The film was made by production company Fasten Your Seatbelt last summer.

Mr Mason said: “In an ailing music industry live music is now more important than ever – Camden is responsible for launching countless music careers.”

Watch this space for updates and more information on this exciting project …

After a while we went through trials like A Time To Kill

The band becomes a family, though dysfunction-ill

Not 12 but 6 Angry Men

Now 5 left after one Departed

So we playing local shows for Barflys on Absynthe

The music game to us looking like Pan’s Labyrinth

Seeking fan expansion

Like Monty Python to the Holy Grail

Like Hoop Dreams even though they failed

You still succeed for trying, not buying in to what they tell you

Not listening to what Glengarry or Glen Ross  are trying to sell you

So my mind changed i became never tired

A Man on Fire

And It was going Great

Like Steve McQueen trying to Escape

We became Drunken Masters at the live performance show

Natural Born Killers of the rhythm and the flow

That’s where the story ends for now, come back next week for more

a New Beginning Like Star Wars Chapter 4

Piese clasice jucate din poignet. Open gates: 21:00. Myspace aici

Jarvis, esti la pitici!
Download <a href="http://www.flv2mp3.com/download/8752505“>aici. Si da, o s-o ascultati diseara, vreti, nu vreti!

Se califica pentru powerplay?