Enough with all the misery of the last couple of days. Here’s what I believe the kids would call a bangin’ choon.
Joe Wise is from the bands Frau Pouch and Punching Swans. He also likes organising noisy gigs under the banner of Motherboy.
Here he is, in his tattoo studio talking about some of his favourite Medway records.
Following yesterday’ gloomy piece about Elliott Smith’s death, the entry for 2006 is also a bit of a downer.
Sorry about that.
I will cheer up for 2007. I promise.
“Elliott, man, you played a mean guitar”.
Ben Folds’ eulogy for Elliott Smith is a beautiful thing. Read about it here.
I don’t exactly dine out on this story. But I do occasionally get greeted by a look of what could pass for brief fascination.
I once got a death threat from a Death Metal band.
The story goes like this. In the mid-2000s I was living back in my home town of Gloucester working in a dead end job in insurance. For a bit of a giggle, I offered my services to BBC Gloucestershire, writing reviews of local bands.
And so it came to pass that I attended the Gloucester Festival where, armed with a notebook and pen, I recorded for posterity the performances and general tomfoolery of local bands.
One band was called Dark Art – or Dark Heart. I forget now. They were just pure noise. I reviewed them in a couple of lines. Something about not being the kind of act you’d take your grandmother to see.
Which, I think, was stating more of a fact than a disparaging opinion.
They didn’t like it.
A few days later, when I was visiting the BBC Gloucestershire offices to pick up a new stack of CDs to review I got hauled into the newsroom and found myself having a phone thrust into my face.
The next thing I knew, I was talking to someone with a job title like Head of Media Relations at Gloucestershire Constabulary. He started talking about the seriousness of the threat being posed and what I should do if I felt like I was in danger.
While on the phone I was looking at an email that had come in to BBC Gloucestershire. It began “This is an official death threat to Stephen Morris” and carried on at some length, with several expletives thrown in for good measure, about how they were the best band the world had ever seen…
Something like that.
Anyway. I digress. I’ve called you here today because one of the bands whose CDs I picked up on that slightly interesting day was by a band called Earnest Cox. They’d named themselves after a miss-spelling of a local firm of undertakers all their families had used.
One way or another, death was hanging around a lot that day.
Read more about them here.
I once had a colleague who refused to believe there could possibly be a band by the name of British Sea Power.
Hopefully he has now seen the error of his ways.
The Delgados were a bunch of fragile souls from Scotland who produced some of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever heard.
‘The Light Before We Land’ is one of my favourites. Its lyrics appear as part of the artwork of a picture we have at the top of the stairs in our house and I once used the title as the inspiration for a short story.
Find out a bit more about why I love it so much in the 2002 entry of my series, 1980 and all that.
Do you like tents? Do you like vomit? This story is for you.
A week or so ago I popped round to Stuart Turner’s house to discuss his favourite Medway albums.
Wasn’t that a good idea?
And so the millenium came and went and nobody’s computer died of any bugs.
How did we celebrate the first year to begin with a “two”? Well, in my case, I spent quite a bit of time listening to a band called Calexico.
Like you do…