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A whole other world opens as you immerse yourself in Joanna's music and her album, The Milk-Eyed Mender, a world of "rough, straggly sage", "palaces and storm clouds" 'En Gallop'. She's hardly been stifled from birth: quite clearly, the opposite holds true -Joanna is one of those privileged few given the space and time to develop and to breathe freely.

If her music and folksy way of singing and harp-playing sometimes seem to hark back to 'simpler' times which were never simpler, of course, just more brutal and uncaringit's because she genuinely seems to have sidestepped much of the bullshit and detritus of modern day society.

Unlike Mr Oldham, however, Joanna never lingers too long in sorrow. There's too much to be discovered: too many whalebones and molluscs and pies to mull over and enjoy. Sure, if you want to be cynical of innocence, you could wilfully misinterpret Joanna's way of enunciating certain syllables as childlike, retarded even. But unlike, say, CocoRosie's studiously art-laden mysteries their beguiling album La Maison De La Reve is a superficially close parallelyou never get the impression that this is a temporary phase Joanna is going through.

And, unlike Will Oldham himself, you never feel this is an act. This is pure Joanna: harp and all. Step back a second. Ignore the voice.

Concentrate on the harp. Concentrate on the magic with a 'k' if anyone's taking notes - and someone should of songs like The Sprout And The Bean' and 'The Book Of Right-On': tumbling, febrile, hypnotic, assured, making full use of both range and silence.

What I know about harp-playing could be written on the tiniest string of Nicanor Zabaleta's cast-offs, but this is incredible. I hold no truck with specialists or virtuosity, goodness knows, but Joanna makes her harp sing in disparate pastoral splendour. Creative, alert, alive, always looking for a fresh way of explaining. Again, it's her childlike playfulness and curiosity that is her greatest asset.

She plays the harp like a troubadour, but never once forgets how special the gift of music is. You could lose yourself in Joanna's stories for an eternity. She transports the listener into a world far from mundane Brighton rain and the shouts of lads on the streets outside. And yet you know that, through Joanna's eyes, those very streets and shouts themselves would turn into something magical, possessed.

This is her gift: the gift of transport and delight. This is the ability to put across her other vision. The girls whisper, excitedly, about the harp, the voice. And the boys? The boys keep quiet, for fear of exposing themselves. It's like comfort food. It's like, when do you not want bread and butter? And this is not my tune, but it's mine to use. It's a Gothic-revival charm of pointed gables and sugary stone twists and leaded windowpanes.

We are moving towards it dreamily in the hot late-summer afternoon. It's no wonder that the girl in the thrift-store prairie princess dress and high- heeled brown leather dancing shoes is drawn to it. It is not that her music is sad - although sometimes it may well be.

The tears were more those strange tears induced by the perfect symmetry of a perfect song played perfectly. The happy-sadness brought on that sweet, snagging feeling of the past linking hands with the present, the 'real' with the imaginary, and all your little stories with the collective big stories.

When something strange and beautiful fills your soul a little too quickly, the leftover beauty has to drain away somewhere. At 22 years old, with a debut album slowly and surely becoming a 'classic', an unusual instrument she plays both distinctively and beautifully, and a voice that perplexes and beguiles in equal measure, it makes perfect sense that Joanna Newsom should have become a new kind of folk heroine, photographed against backdrops of trees and fields like a dryad in cowgirl boots, plucking out spells and lullabies on 46 thrumming strings.

We love our fairytales. Yet, despite the immediate, unarguable emotional impact of Newsom's songs, and the immediate, unarguable charm and loveliness of Newsom herself, it doesn't hurt to question what it means to have your art and craft and life embroidered such; what it means to be cast in the role of naif, of pixie, of child-woman.

I wonder if a fairytale is the right kind of story to be spinning when the prosaic, rough reality of folk music is equal in importance to its whimsical beauty, and when Joanna Newsom's well-documented story -while rich enough in esoteric detail Heaven (Accra Jump Remix) satisfy the most legend-hungry listener- is also a story of hard work, scholarship and an intensely thoughtful and intelligent young woman.

Growing up in Nevada City-twinned with Bodmin in Cornwall, she tells me within minutes of our meeting much to my delight - she began studying the harp around the age of nine.

Hers was a nurturing, creative environment, within both the family and the community in general. It evidently fostered the love and confidence in writing her own music that took her to Oakland liberal arts school Mills College and its acclaimed composition course.

But, upon realising there was "no place for songwriting" in contemporary composition "there's a sense that everyone does everything at the same time and then they move onto the next thing"Newsom switched majors and left to concentrate on her own material, circulating CDRs among friends. The trajectory that followed -Bay Area performances, a tour with Will Oldham, two EPs, and then The Milk- Eyed Mender, an album that gathered momentum in my heart so gradually and naturally that I now can't imagine not having a copy - can be read about elsewhere, and will soon be eclipsed by what looks set to be a busy, strange few years for Newsom, as she navigates the inevitable mainstream success.

In September, she's supporting Neil Young in Berkeley, at a benefit concert for local arts centres, dance troupes and a radio network. I don't know what to follow the word 'favourite' with He is very special to me. I associate him with really good conversations with my dad, because I talk to my dad about music a lot, and he and I have talked about what makes Neil Young so special, and we both agree that he's got the most beautiful voice probably ever in rock music.

It's his sense of melody, the way he caresses his voice around his melodies. His voice has the same effect on me as an oboe has, it has a similar timbre - it's high and kind of rough, but really rich and velvety. It cuts through the music, like in a symphony when you hear the oboe 901 - Principles Of Geometry - Principles Of Geometry (CD, Album) through everything else.

The top of my 'starstruck' list has always been Neil Young. Good, because there's a receptiveness both in the US and elsewhere to the countercultural properties of traditional musics, and an interest in the raw, the old, the weird, the magical qualities of close-recorded wood and strings, and the acceptance of lyrics that touch upon archaic, romantic themes.

Good, because performers such as Newsom and her friend Devendra Banhart country-dance their way into our clubs like a couple of Passed Away - Desultory - Death Unfolds (Cassette), flamboyant unicorns, and set up in the corner with those of us who've been squirreling away our charity shop June Tabor records and Shirley Collins box sets and our Book Of Frontier Ballads and our Texas Piano Bluesand show us that the music we love is coming out of real breathing people.

The English equivalents of this have been less arresting - more about boys with guitars rehashing their teacher parents' Pentangle records and namechecking the goddamn Wicker Man than any real attempt to get to the fen-dark, dawn-light heart of this country's traditional songs - but the recent welcome given to Banhart and Newsom here bodes well.

But what happens when the hipsters The Magic Number - Various - Trident Rock N Roll Call / Le Rock Du Téléphone (Cassette) longer believe in unicorns? Will they just ignore them, or will they actively try to destroy them? What happens when you impose time limits on this timeless music? While Newsom's confident in the progression of her own work, the creation of a 'scene' of which she's an unwilling member perturbs her. With Devendra, it's hard for me to separate whether I feel close to him musically or just because we've been friends since before either of us was playing music.

I'm not shaky on what my sound is. I know it may change over the years, but I know what I'm trying to do. And I can't necessarily lump my sound under a particular label. In trying to pin down its strangeness, you fall back on juxtapositions, saying that her voice is both young and old, both beautiful and rough, its instinctiveness juxtaposed with the assured harp playing.

You say that the harp lines contain more juxtapositions - stylistically, melodically -as she touches upon minimalism and the beautifully mannered classic songwriting style of, say, early Van Dyke Parks another Californian 'non-singer' whose subverted classical training sat beautifully with his funny, smart little voice and intricate lyricsas well as the more obvious folk themes. You say that to play folk music on a Lyon and Healy harp is itself a little contradictory.

Newsom is discovering that reactions to her are equally polarised. This surprises her. But especially now that I'm in England and there's more of a chance that people will just wander into a show and have no idea who I am, there's this recurring fear that people are gonna start throwing things at me!

Because of this thing that's been hammered into my head that you either love my music or hate it, which, incidentally, I hadn't even considered when I started playing music. I've had some really violent reactions where people have said, That's the worst thing I've ever heard, her voice is horrendous'. But there was a review that came out in an Austin newspaper that said, 'You can only shove a knitting needle down your ear for so long before sweet unconsciousness sets in'.

It's been seared into my memory because it was my first bad review. The Magic Number - Various - Trident Rock N Roll Call / Le Rock Du Téléphone (Cassette) think it was an understanding I picked up that I didn't have a voice people wanted to listen to.

It wasn't until I was much older-just two years ago, or so - that I decided I would use it anyway. You don't use any effects and your voice is right there, in the listener's ear. But, later, I realise that's not what I mean at all. By 'intimacy', I think I mean the unaffected dramatic momentum and uncompromising directness of all the best folk singing.

These features are hard to swallow indeed, unless you're lucky enough to have them speak right to your soul as Newsom experienced on first hearing a recording of the Virginia-born ballad singer, Texas Gladden.

This drama and directness is present in Gladden's ballads, Blind Willie Johnson's fervent fire and brimstone growl; in the lusty Yorkshire laments of the Watersons and in the piping ethereality of Shirley Collins. It's in Newsom's mountainside poetess lilt and Banhart's witchy vibrato - and it embarrasses the hell out of most of us.

Those who love it, meanwhile, can't understand how anyone could fail to. Just all of it is so beautiful always to me. You can have too much bread and butter, I can listen to too much Texas Gladden and then I have to go listen to silence or some pop music or some Fleetwood Mac, but you always want to start your day out with it. Newsom's fascination with Seeger is twofold. She obviously relates to the composer's interweaving of folk tunes with theories of dissonance.

Less obviously, she's intrigued by Seeger's decision to make her family, rather than her composition, her main life's work. Newsom's empathy with the uneasy relationship between the personal and creative is apparent in her lyrics, which combine a punchy vigour with immaculate rhymes; insomnia, frustration and awkward bodies with palaces, canaries, and constellations. It's the combination of giftedness with words and stringing them together in the most amazing ways, and also an immense attention to what happens when different words bump up against each other.

Sometimes it's because I like to play with syllabic emphases and where they intersect with the downbeats. Or maybe I like to think of the sung part as a contrapuntal line, so sometimes it'll syncopate with the music and other times it'll be parallel to it. Word choice has a lot to do with the sound of the music, and word length too.

The only multi- tracking was Newsom's eerie, layered voice that pops out occasionally like an entreating choir - and this, apparently, was a happy accident. She and her partner and producer Noah Georgeson concentrated instead on recording the harp as effectively as they could, positioning microphones differently for each song: "Creating a kind of self-contained, specific space for each one.

If we could just have the best possible verisimilitude for the harp, and also have this shifting landscape it was inhabiting, that was enough. It's another thing that helps create your own musical world.

Your music has its own mythology - its own folkloric world. Are you interested in folklore and myth? Something that is really interesting about personal mythology, you know, which every person has, is that we accumulate this collection of symbols.

We accumulate a set of associations with objects, and they run deep, and it's a whole lifetime of memories that imbue these objects with enormous symbolic strength.

And those symbols appear again and again; these sort of symbolic stutters happen. I keep catching on certain ideas, and I don't even realise I'm doing it until people quote them back to me and say, 'You talk about bones a lot' or something. It's an embroidered piece that my friend did, and we collected bones and hair and butterflies.

And then I wanted it to have this sense of something you'd find in an attic or in a thrift store and wonder, what is this, this is like the weirdest thing I've ever seen The homespun voodoo of The Milk-Eyed Mender's sleeve, with its owl and aeroplane, spider's web and narwhal motifs, feels like a tribute to the forgotten handiwork that was once so much a part of female experience. Like the music, the artwork is bound together with a traditional sense of craftsmanship. The line about stitching something: ' That whole set of lines is full of references to handiwork and sewing and darning.

But I can cross-stitch. Actually, I'm quite good. It fascinates me as an idea, that there's this world of female plan b 1 13 Joanna newsom plan b magazine the void plan b magazine 'We collected bones and hair and butterflies But as much as I like to look at it, I'm really glad I don't have to sit and do it! She nods: " It stands for all of the things you can't do.

Just having a parlour craft, something to while away the hours. Which is actually where the harp got started - the Western classical harp, obviously: the kind of harp I play started as a parlour instrument for wealthy young girls to play so that they could become accomplished young ladies.

Very accomplished. We both laugh. It's such a pat conclusion. But there's a truth in it, for I'm yet to hear a contemporary interpretation of folk music as female-centred, intellectually rigorous, wryly humorous, instantly iconic, utterly beautiful and, yes, accomplished as Joanna Newsom's.

There's no yearning for a prelapsarian time and place except for the Edens of our imaginations ; her music hides uncanny awareness beneath its simplicity.

While Newsom might have stopped formal study, she's a natural scholar. And, maybe, a born teacher. Most were songs of struggle; songs of working and living in harsh times.

It would be disingenuous for a young woman of Joanna Newsom's background and personality to take such songs as they are and sing them to us straight. Instead, she narrates different struggles - albeit she channels the ghosts of the old songs, the old blues. They're not always her tunes, no, but damn sure they're hers to use. Listen, and you'll hear the patterns of a sea-shanty here, and the epic narrative of an old mountain lament there.

But Newsom is singing the work songs of Die Drei ??? Und Das Riff Der Haie 2 inner worlds -the dragons that rant and rail and beset us as we find our voices - and the ballads of her own daydream journeys into self-knowledge.

In dancing, lies liberation from the mundane and the depressing, escapism as absolute as sex, happiness free and unbound. So says Leesey, one half of the vocals of Southampton quintet Help She Can't Swim, a band who possess a ticket to righteously fire up the dancefloor. Rebellion and spontaneity. Unaffected attitude. Oh, and fun - lots of fun. Fuck nice music' "Un, deux, trois, quatre! Vehement handclaps blaze their way through siren-like guitars. It's the commanding sound of this male-female affront that lies at the heart of the band's dynamism, tearing through every abrupt blast of song, a decade of anger and frustration off- loaded into fearless critiques and sexual backchat: "You might have my wardrobe, you don 't have my sty-hy-hy-hy-hyle!

It's just I find it liberating to shout about things that matter to me. I mean, find yourself a new icon! Elsewhere, sexual advances are spelled out beguilingly; after-dark antics are revealed behind the curtains. So what of the dance troupe? Go fetch your dancing shoes, girls and boys. Having invented their own genre - Casio grindcore - the manic three-piece have torn up stages across the country. This is music your parents will never like. It's perverse. To quote my girlfriend, "I wake up in the morning and think it's going to be a lovely day.

Then Tim puts on Trencher. The two compliment each other like an Radetzky - Gr. Blasorchester Baron*, Großes Blasorchester Ignaz Neuser* - Beliebte Marschklänge (She goes with cheese; which is my favourite snack. Something really fresh and [something] really mouldy shoved together. Part of Trencher's appeal lies in the stupidity of their style, a direct reaction to the number of metal and grindcore bands that were taking themselves too seriously.

Otherwise we'd be stuck playing London, which would be awful. We got six labels we were friendly with, split the costs and used the excess for pressing. It worked out really cheap for them and they aren't lumbered with stock. And it worked for us. We taught each other to play and so don't have a lot of respect for the patterns of music. Despite their eloquence in conversation, refusing to learn a dogmatised musical language has forced them to invent their own, one in tune with their true nature.

As de Saussure described the arbitrariness of language, and the way it can colour, cloud, and construct our reality, Trencher are an organic machine, digging their way across the field of empathy and churning up the proscribed filth of our ancestors. Trencher are truth. The two compliment each other like an apple goes with cheese' plan b 1 15 the void plan b magazine my first record: Spektrum Interview: Everett True Photography: Sarah Bowles Isaac drums : "The first vinyl record I bought was by Twisted Sister, Under The Blade or something.

It was so good. It had a logo of Dee Snider eating this massive boner with all the make-up on. The first cassette I bought was by The Police. All my mates had it, so I had to have it as well. It sounded amazing. It had all these twinkling guitars, and percussion.

That was a big influence. I wish I'd bought Twisted Sister now. Lola voice : "My first record was sings'Girl, I been missin'you. It might've been Cameo. It might've been Japan. I can't quite remember. We adored Japan. We went to the house of Steve Janson [Japan drummer] and David Sylvain [Japan singer- the pair are brothers], somewhere around Victoria. We knocked on the door and no one came. Then we saw Steve Janson walking towards us.

He was absolutely gorgeous. We went to Simon Le Bon's house as well. What motivates you to get up on stage and perform? It's good to see audiences smiling. Sometimes, people come up to me and say they were down before they went out, and we cheered them up. Like a human anti-depressant! Raymond Scott has been a big influence on the brass stuff I write. A lot of his melodies got stolen for the Looney Toons cartoons. Any band with a stupidly long name that isn't too blues rock!

But it doesn't have to be from the late Sixties. I'm a stupidly big fan of Julian Cope, and got into Krautrock because of him. Faust are the second greatest band after The Beatles!

No one ever agrees with me. Not even Faust fans! But the music I'm most into is Outsider Music like Shooby Taylor The Human Horn, the world's weirdest scat singer, or Luie Luie, a sleazy Mexican guy who invented his own dance called the touche where people can get together and touch, and The Shaggs who sound like they recorded in three separate rooms!

Where does the band's name come from? When Jordan. Having gigged around town No More. But what ins in various ensembles, they recorded own songs? The record, Kathy and I were breaking pair then met kick-ass drummer up," says Hutch. There's a thousand reasons Francisco. His dad was a dancer to get pissed off.

I started playing drums when agreement, "it's not a rational I was There was a school dance treatment of the subject. Our new singer went not solve the problem. It's supposed to sing the first note. Apart from being one of the funniest things I've read, it's also a rarity for a rock'n'roll book, being written by someone who was a there and b can write. It's about Nico's last years as a touring heroin addict and is hilarious, but also tragic.

It's written by an Oxford graduate loser who endured all the touring nightmares, amplified by ! They walked it like they talked it. No one really sounds like her and this book explains why. It shows she could be one of the boys, even though her music had great femininity. That must be worth a bit. And a test pressing of Bob Dylan's Self Portrait that I found being sold by an army fanatic at a car boot sale for 50p. There is a supreme reverse The Magic Number - Various - Trident Rock N Roll Call / Le Rock Du Téléphone (Cassette) to the universe; a universal reverse psychology is employed upon us constantly.

The moment you manage to make up your mind about what is definite, an equal and opposite kind of reaction begins to work itself up. You see it in movies all the time, which is a tiring warning of the way things are here on this Earth. If you are a cop about to retire, then you will get shot. If you are about to win a race and shout it before crossing the finish line, someone else will beat you.

That kind of thing. And it's only represented in films because we already understand this feeling. It is universal. In itself it is not something to hate. If you do, you will end up loving it. It is irony; and life is mostly that. I think it has something to do with a pendulum effect that pulses through our days and emulates the system of time we rely on while we are here.

If you 'tick' then you will 'tock'. I hate to do these things. I do them because I dare myself to find the back door of Zen into them.

The worst things I hate are 'best of lists. I just hate lists. Especially set lists; they are absurd. They all celebrate a kind of restricted portioning which I really can't stand. Why am I asked to list only 1 favourite records of all time? Why stop at 1 0? What is wrong with the number 1 3 or, better yet, the six best records of all time? I think we all can handle it.

I don't think anyone will freak if we start disassembling the notions that every list must end in 1 or five. Prime numbers are our friends too.

It is so insulting. There is no 'north' or 'south' in space. When we look at a map, we are essentially looking at it from the perspective of being above our own atmosphere. We are seeing it from space. But if we really were, then the chances of 'north' being exactly up, as it appears on the pages of a map, is extremely remote. This is infuriating. It also softens the brain. Stop making maps for imbeciles.

We can handle it. It will make us better people. Better Earthlings. It will begin to give us a much better sense of our own place in the grand scheme of things, The Magic Number - Various - Trident Rock N Roll Call / Le Rock Du Téléphone (Cassette). Me and my buddy Nick were both 15 at the time.

I was given a drum set by my uncle and Nick had a Mexican Stratocaster and a practice Inner Voices - Didier Marouani & Space - Symphonic Space Dream / Deeper Zone (CD). We threatened to cover Nirvana's Nevermind in its entirety, but all we ended up with was a shoebox filled with tapes made on a boombox with a condenser mic.

We never even played a show. Like 1 5-year-olds everywhere, we thought we were the only people in the world cool enough to come up with such a unique name. We formed to enter a talent contest, which we never got around to doing. TSS didn't have any real instruments; we borrowed some and only had one real rehearsal. We talked a lot, and then the thing suddenly turned into another band called The U-Boats, which lasted a whole summer.

I played organ. I sucked at it, but it didn't matter 'cause the whole band sucked. We got our lyrics from comic books. We thought he was a genius. I heard he does a web-comic now. I've been listening to a lot of Rembetika music this last month, and my friend Jeremy, who plays in A Hawk And A Hacksaw, has been encouraging me to learn the bouzouki, but that could take quite a while. I also like Moroccan instruments like the oud and kenbri and have always loved banjos but, since no one plays the banjo like Chet Atkins, I have never tried to learn.

The name is really new age and puts me off but I like the nasal rasping sound it makes. IsawXiuXiuonce and I really liked the harmonium, and Verity has one that I had a go on and it was really fun.

I had a plastic toy one in Spain and I miss it. I used to want to play the sitar but only because when I did GCSE music, our teacher had one and we used to spend all our music lessons eating chocolate, burning incense and listening to him playing the sitar, but really badly. It would be quite fun to have a hurdy-gurdy.

It's a really joyous trip, and they're all really happy and excited. Only then somebody gets murdered. Murdered on the party island. You could soundtrack the murder at this club - " Like Manumission.

This girl's getting choked to death in public while she's in all her sexy disco wear? Doesn't have to be a girl. It's more sexy and exciting if it's a girl. She gets It should be you. Crispin Glover. He's not very scary. Crispin Glover is an actor. Anyway, at the end, they find the girl, and of course he's in love with her, that's why he strangled her and tied her up.

And at the end the song that's playing is 'EZ Pass'. You're setting yourself up for a life of disappointment there, boy. I read that when she did it with Goldie she totally salad tossed him. And Sadie Frost at the same time! I read it on popbitch. You should make Har Mar Vaginal Deodorants.

Because the ladies get all excited when they see you - so you could offer to give them a free little squirt. Now that would be cool. That would be. I'll let you have that one. I've got 20120316 132820 - You Still Have Friends - .01 (CDr, Album). I wish they'd phone and tell me; drop notes.

They should know by now that summer kills me, that my spirit dies when mercury rises. So every Saturday night I press the flesh, and every Sunday morning I try and scrub myself dirty again. There's these kids, Bloody Luxury - Whitesnake - Saints & Sinners (Vinyl, LP, Album). They're loyal.

They're on the dancefloor every Saturday night. Don't ever let me live anywhere where Saturday night doesn't matter. A circle of boys and girls committed 'to a certain pantheon that can't be questioned but does strike one as terribly precious. One of them moans the guy in the main room is playing Prince, so they've come into my side room to hear some 'proper music'. I scowl and dig out 'Hot Thing'. See, they don't even dance to The Specials.

They're not from round here. They're students from dahn sarf. They're beautiful, but this week I kill the room an hour early and tell them all to, "Fuck off into the main room -the people are prettier. It's a gimmick thing. It's all jealousy on my part, of course. Being into that music never got me friends, but there they are, loved up and moshing to Teenage Riot', surrounded by gorgeous androgynous replicants.

Where were these sexy, young, thrusting, weird people when I was their age? I reassure myself by thinking that something's lost now the underground rock of my youth is the 'classic' floor-fillers of my present.

Listening to Dinosaur Jr's 'Don't' when you've got a rockin' social life is one thing - listening to it in a bedroom is another. One implies a shared joy and the interpersonal flow of substances both emotional and physical.

The other implies self-implosion and crystallised spunk on your jimjams; it's about me and FUCKyou. It's nice turning your natural repulsiveness into an aesthete's self-exile. Now that people insist on talking to me, forcing me to cough up words so sour they almost make me retch at my repetition, I want that young fogey, frigidaire, hemmed-in, mute virginity back again, big style. I want to go back to when I believed in nothing but a Diamond For A Dime - Oyster Band* - Oyster Band (VHS), rather than the grisly horror the present always seems to end up being.

Indon't ponder Franz Ferdinand orTracey Emin or whatever mediocrity is being jabbed in your face. Think about the following: JS Bach. Miles Davis. Jean Renoir. The Slits. Y'know, the greats. Depressing gods, all the above, because they created new things but destroyed any possibility of originality for everyone since.

Realise always that art, all art, great art should always endeavour to explain and describe. When it loses sight of this transcendent purpose, when it simply wants to keep up with the overladen, eager meaninglessness of the mass media or instant fix satiety of consumerism, it's proper fucked.

The past contains so many futures we ain't even got round to yet. And Goya didn't do owt decent till his sixties, so bear up, bison. There's time to change the world yet. It'll make you happy like Haribo. Dead in a week. Really take a long, hard, brutal look at yourself.

Take your clothes off. Pinch your rolls. Tweak your tits. Make fun of your carcass. Put into place a mental block that stops you yearning for what can never be. The myriad lust- objects you see everyday, see through you to real people. You're a chubby ghost of an urge.

You're no longer a participant in silly games, unless we're talking Janet Kay, and only the emasculating horror of self-realisation can save you. Open letters, but forget how to read them. Look at and through them like a monkey would. S'a lot easier being the idiot you are than the smart arse you're meant to be.

Look at a hillside. See the curvature of the earth. Look at the moon. Get foetal in cathedrals. Realise your place in space, the little speck you're stretching at every opportunity.

And the sodding sun can stay across the street. The subconscious and mathematic and stellar and here and there and reality and dreams all rushing out at you. And the beauty. The goodbye paid in 'Frownland', the mutterings of a man who's gonna walk up the high street for 2, miles until he's out in the world, the real world matched by the Magic Band's unrepeatable stumble-ass, L-plated progress.

Where he can gather his thoughts about this world. See the damage done and wield the scalpel, finally let his heart's tenderest aches find voice. Trout Mask' is a documentary of what happened to these people while they were making it. Yet it's a transcendent triumph of the imagination as well, charging connections in your brain possibly dead since puberty.

There is a sense of wonder at nature and the unnatural - and the way words can come so close to both. It's not such a bad thing for a poet to make you feel things again. Or provide a picture of his nation so thoroughly sensual in its enjoyment and brutal in its disappointment, so total in its understanding and compassion. There's venom here. And words that knead your shoulders like the first drink of the day. At once outwardly futurist and inwardly ancient, the earth's first and last song.

Take it monthly. I'm talking about the habits you picked up randomly from no one, but you can't shake because they don't occur to you as addictions. Like cracking your fingers arthritically. Taking corners too fast. Listening to your mother. Shaving your mono-brow. Saying 'sorry' after cumming. Saying, " Erm, yeah, give us a couple of days on that" when you know you have no intention of doing a fucking thing.

Getting out of bed. And of course, the most difficult habits of them all to shake: pornography, and hope. It just means relaxing a little. Release it. Enter competitions. When the beer-lads stare, stare back, pull faces, front the fuckers out. If you feel like drawing on your face before you go out, do so.

Show off your hickeys in your child's school playground. Scan your face onto 40 A4 flyers and hand them out on the street asking for help in tracing your identical twin. Commence a long-running correspondence with a local free paper. Commit yourself to every moment and kill the false modesty: when someone asks you what you do, tell them plain that you're the newmessiah. Try and get yourself hid, or die trying in ' Cos by you'll be too nuts to think straight.

Imagine that. I love Black Sabbath. But things are seldom what they might seem. Scratch the surface of Gravenhurst songs and you discover a quietly seething sea of disquiet, a blistering anger seeping out with the finest of precisely focused power.

But Black Sabbath? Maybe not. Musically, it's easier to neatly nudge Gravenhurst into a folk revivalism slot than into dark proto-metal. Their sound is certainly one that often recollects some of the finer moments of the Sixties English scene like Fairport Convention, Pentangle, Soft Machine even.

I'm not really into the whole thing. It's quite a superficial connection. Same with all the Nick Drake references.

The Drake references certainly are just too easy and also wide of the mark. I love Black Sabbath' the void plan b magazine NIN vs the pAperchAse Words: Gracelette Photography: Owen Richards There is no such thing as locking pAperchAse singer John Congleton in too many dark rooms, poking him with too many sharp sticks or showing him too many pictures of grotesque female forms.

For this is the charm behind the third long-player God Bless Your Black Heart kill rock starsand the dude is still red-faced and angry, shooting out elaborate revenge fantasies, grand pianos that fall from third storey opera balconies Runął Już Ostatni Mur - Tilt (4) - Runął Już Ostatni Mur. (Vinyl) crash apart improbably into chalk outlines on suburban doorsteps below.

Young bodies are still healing quickly. Young bodies are still gonna get it. And their pain and sadness has never sounded quite so good. See, I'm not being gratuitously callous when I call on the women of this world to continue to do whatever it is they're doing that is causing so much emotional pain to the ringleader of this Texan quartet.

And it's certainly not that I quite like the idea of being menaced by boys with knives, and feel that such fucked-up-ness is to The Barcelona Pavilion Words: Everett True Illustration: Till Thomas The first CD is shaped like a small blue business card.

It makes this quirky Canadian band sound like a chirpy, cheesy WASPy synth-led version of Numbers, bad drum machine and distorted fuzz guitar all over the shop, before leading into a more erratic Wedding Present.

The second song is pure indie dancehall: "How are you people going to have fun if none of you people ever participate? The T-shirts said 'anal'. The party got written up in local Toronto papers.

Hidden Cameras swirled in giddy abandon. The second The Magic Number - Various - Trident Rock N Roll Call / Le Rock Du Téléphone (Cassette) is shaped like a small red eyeball.

It samples and speeds up The Fall's 'Rowche Rumble' with a delighted abandon, and stops very suddenly in just over a minute. There are also two German language songs. It's available via Meccico over here, and took Steve Malkmus by surprise just as he was about to go onstage at Domino's 1 0th anniversary celebrations. The song is called 'New Materiology' because that's how the lyrics go. It was the 'Our house is your ashtray' eviction party, and the T-shirts said 'R'.

Oh No The Moderator played, among others. The next couple of CDs are due soon. Hopefully, they'll be yellow and ochre and shaped like a cow's intestine - to accompany a projected book about eating.

It is not recorded what T-shirts were worn. Just say yes to bands with a cheap drum machine, one laptop, two singers and two basses, especially if they change their shirts every show. I was very shy and, well, nothing happened. But then one day when I was 13 and on holiday in Portugal, I met a Portuguese boy called Paulo who was from further up the coast. He was two years older than me. We spent a day together before he had to go home, but we wrote to each other and I returned that summerto see him again.

That was the last time I saw him. But we wrote for five years off and on. The air was thick with the smell of orange blossoms that lingered on a rose cotton scarf I wore for many years afterwards. He was going to be a professional football player when he grew up, but ended up doing music, I think. This was 1you know! And that's kinda private. It's just that, on the strength of this album, being emotionally wounded by girls is never gonna stop suiting Congleton and, fuck it, I say, " Pick up the ball and run with it".

Accentuate the positive, you know? After all, life is complicated these days. It used to be textbook. Impossibly damaged woman breaks your heart because that's who she is. You stick on 'Reptile' or 'Ruiner' and hit repeat, letting Nine Inch Nails' The Downward Spiral play over and over as you terrorise yourself with violent daydreams and hate yourself for being too weak to see them through.

Like Adam in the Garden of Eden, you hide your face from Nietzsche because you are ashamed. 100 I Dream young and callow and never been hurt like this before.

Trent Reznor, man, he knows what you're going through. But, a few years on, the dude releases The Fragile and, while the arrangements are flawless, he's repeating the sentiments of The Downward Spiral like some old man's Viagra mantra, even though you know he's gotten over whatever it was that fucked him up so bad in the first place. In contrast, three albums on, and, with two economic lines, Congleton can still capture the fear and loathing of the recognition scene, the paranoia of what you know is to come and the egotistical tenderness that characterises the best revenge fantasies.

But that's the trouble with time. It heals all pain. Except, apparently, Congleton's pain, and for this we must be grateful. They understand that keyboards aren't always the preserve of long sensitive gothic fingers. Sometimes -those times when you really fucking need to be hearing The pAperchAse, for example - keyboards are doors slamming and cold sweats waking you up and fists making meat contact in an unscientific but thoroughly effective manner.

Oh sure, there's some 'achingly beautiful' keyboard playing in the gloriously entitled 'Abby You're Going To Burn For What You've Done To Me', but this quickly gives way to the discordant insistence of 'Your Pretty Head', those long sensitive fingers smashed up and Long sensitive fingers smashed up and bandaged together with black gaff a tape bandaged together with black gaffa tape, still forcing some noise, any noise, from the black and white keys.

Moreover, as the years have passed, I've come to realise that I'm never going to be so hurt that I will spontaneously grow a cock with which to fuck over the people who've done me wrong. I have now mastered the art of cumming all over someone should the hatefuck situation demand it. But it's hardly inclusive and who wants to talk cocks and cum anyway when you can talk knives and spiders and heads on poles?

Much more fun. John Congleton never discusses his cock. Trent would never shut up about his. Congleton is therefore the better lyricist and thus needs to take another dose of emotional misery for the team. Long may he refuse to heal. What Errors urge out of their glacial metal boxes - with the help of wood and string contraptions - is so human you can almost feel the existential strain tearing at arterial structures.

But as you may expect, they reply as an autonomous unit. The voice does, however, indicate its constituent parts: laptop, synths, programming Simon ; synths, bass Steev ; guitar Greg. Simon and Steev began producing tracks together while still at school, but admit that it was mostly 'cheesy Eighties synth-pop'. The shift into darker territory was not precipitated until an introduction at an unnamed rock concert in the Barrowlands led to a meeting of minds in WH Smiths. Greg thus joined proceedings, and the embryonic Errors went online.

Having just signed to the fiercely eclectic Rock Action label, Errors will be gearing up to unleash their instrumental Germanic electro throb meets post rock doom and gloom upon a largely unsuspecting world.

Sample their 'Hans Herman' number for a lesson in uplifting nihilism. In locating their enticing sonic domain, they followed no conscious blueprints, instead allowing ideas to filter through from their surroundings. As for the post- rock thing, it comes as a result of living in Glasgow, and being surrounded by bands that fall into that criterion.

As with much of Glasgow's current crop of sonically dissimilar bands, Errors have been almost subconsciously predisposed to dismiss mono- stylistics by attending club nights like Optimo or any number of Art School events.

The sense of community is contagious in the city, with all manner of individuals being exposed to wildly varying permutations of musical information that, by extension, then feed into the databanks of the future creators and manipulators. Becoming a functioning part of that community was the obvious next step, and it is indeed through the live forum that Errors have since made their name.

So you'll hear more mistakes live. You might also witness the laptop breaking down if you come and see us. It happens a lot. And under those conditions, if it's broke then don't fix it. Taking in the far-flung reaches of Kieran's legendary expansive musical map and unveiling many of the influences behind his 'Pause' and 'Rounds' albums, this collection pitches warm psychedelia against cool jazz against free floating folk against hardcore hip hop against straight up experimental lunacy, and emerges with a cohesive game-plan.

Released October plan b 1 25 the void plan b magazine video diaries: Deerh notography: Cat Stevens 'Yeah! The drummer's got this enormous drum set with double bass drums and all these toms, and then all he does is goes "doo-doo- doo-doo" on the snare!

My sister said, 'That's a music video'. That one's not in black and white, it's in blue and white. He constructed paper buildings and stuff. Why do we have to do this interview together? But it wasn't Quitting Smoking - Bob & Tom - Lollapaloozers (CD, Album) true.

I just have these weird disconnected images: Huey Lewis's head sticking out of the sand or something. When I went to high school in Surrey, I had an after school activity where I danced to that video.

In the dark. In the dark? Staring at the TV screen? The same video each week? The drummer's got this enormous drum set with double bass drums and all these toms, and then all he does is goes 'doo-doo- doo-doo' on the snare! Winged Eel Fingerling looks like he's having a nervous breakdown. He just plays one guitar note over and over, but has this elaborate dance that keeps changing throughout the song that has nothing to do with what he's playing. It's 1 7 minutes long. So many people talk aboutand it's always a turn-off for the people.

Asya: "I had a soccer practice today, we had to run a lot though! We also picked up our CD release posters. I really like them. Pop is the ultimate outsider music because it operates outside any atavistic canon or code. Two sisters from Seattle, Chloe is Have You Seen Her - M.C.

Hammer* - Please Hammer Dont Hurt Em (Cassette, Album) and hits drums, Asya is 1 2 and plays keyboards and sings. It sounds genuinely unlike anything.

This is pop music stripped down, unfiltered and incapable of appealing to a straitjacketing set of reference points. She Like Electric runs on pure, unfettered imagination and the sheer joy of filling in noise with colour, paint and stories. What is your favourite Smoosh song?

Chloe: "I like 'Massive Cure' and 'Bottlenose'. I like the louder songs. It's more fun to play hard on the drums. It's about like getting into the music and putting your hands in the air.

I think the overall market quality of shorts has come on in the last 5 years. I use Rapha Pro team bought when they are on sale and Galibier's Different legislation for HGVs applies. Life usually being way more complex than it appears, sometimes means that simplistic and usually context free food miles can be a terrible way of Which is exactly what I said, spinning the legs while sat on the crossbar.

Pfftt, call me when someone achieves a real challenge, like Olympus Monsing. Or watching an entire Coronavirus briefing without switching off in An impressive coating for winter riding but super-pricey and the performance gains are hard to detect in the real world. Log In Register. Rock'n'Roll Cable Magic 9. Sat, Mar 04, Cable-specific lube that works well and lasts longer than DIY concoctions. Verdict Cable-specific lube that works well and lasts longer than DIY concoctions.

Tell us some more about the technical aspects of the product? Rate the product for performance:. It worked really well on old cables and made a slight difference to brand new ones. Rate the product for durability:. Rate the product Love Feeling - Various - Old School Dancehall Classic Vol. 2 (Vinyl) value:. Tell us how the product performed overall when used for its designed purpose Assuming you follow the instructions of two or three drops per inner, or putting a couple of drops on your finger and running the actual cable through it rather than just slapping it on liberally it works very well, more so on older cables and outer housing.

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Label: Universal Music - ,Concord Records - • Series: Rock 'N' Roll Legends - 10 • Format: CD Compilation • Country: Europe • Genre: Rock • Style: Rock & Roll/5(6). Rock n Roll Magic Tacoma, Washington - Present Members Rick Adams ~ Guitar, Vocals Susie Adams ~ Vocals, Percussion Eric Bauer ~ Bass, Vocals Mark "Bubba" Harris ~ Drums, Vocals Sonny Schaaf ~ Keyboards. Alumni. Sep 01,  · 50+ videos Play all Mix - Great White - Call It Rock And Roll HD YouTube Great White - "Rock Me" The Ritz - NY - - Duration: RockingHardV3 , views.

This company has been providing excellence in entertainment and customer service since We can assist you regarding any of the following --booking entertainment, such as major name entertainers or celebrities, booking rock and roll music artists, booking information on rock and roll music artists, or hiring a rock and roll music artist for your special event, or to book or hire a rock and.

band calendar. rock n roll magic calendar magicwear by gloria t-shirts @ tba call magic gloria to place an order calendar continues. march 6th / 7th dawsons bar celebrating 15 years (1st weekend of every month) 9pm - 1am 56th and south tacom way, tacoma wa. richard performed with rock n roll magic. Ever since rock n' roll started in the 's, Many subgenres of rock music have been born. This section has all the rock & pop music cassettes we carry in our store including all its subgenres through new bands of today. Check the left column of our store to search through more genre specified cassette .

Rock'n'Roll Cable Magic seems to be the only lube designed for the job, so I was interested in its value in my workshop over the assortment of mixtures I've used before. I tried it on two test subjects, my six year old winter bike with well used cables and outers that are perfectly functional if a little stiff; and a brand new bike in for long.

Jun 03,  · Rock 'n' Roll Telephone Lyrics: I don’t know where I am / Or what day it is / ‘Cause I lost my watch and my phone / And no, I don’t feel the biz / Got no money in my pocket / And my clothes. Rock'n'Roll Cable Magic seems to be the only lube designed for the job, so I was interested in its value in my workshop over the assortment of mixtures I've used before. I tried it on two test subjects, my six year old winter bike with well used cables and outers that are perfectly functional if a little stiff; and a brand new bike in for long.

Label: Universal Music - ,Concord Records - • Series: Rock 'N' Roll Legends - 10 • Format: CD Compilation • Country: Europe • Genre: Rock • Style: Rock & Roll/5(6).


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