12-19-13-8-18-2 'Etz'nab 11 Xul G7
Daniel Pinchbeck "Breaking Open The Head"
Recently, I read an interview with the author at the Maybe Logic Academy quarterly review--called, funnily enough, "Maybe Quarterly". It piqued my curiosity about Pinchbeck's first book, "Breaking Open The Head"--being a narrative about his disillusion with life as a New Yawk intellectual and his subsequent experimentation with various psychedelic substances. Since I fancy myself a bit of a psychedelic literature connoisseur, I felt I should check this one out. You can read the interview here.
"Breaking Open.." starts with an overview of the book's aims and psychedelics use, especially in the West. Then Pinchbeck whisks the reader off to Gabon, in Africa--where he takes part, after a bit of scary dealings with the local Bwiti tribal leader, in an iboga ceremony. For those not in the know, iboga is a rootbark scraped from a particular tree, that when ingested, produces a long trance-state in which visions are beheld. Pinchbeck goes through with the ceremony and records his trip in detail--which proves to be one of the more interesting parts in the book.
He explores the sacred mushrooms of Mexico and remarks on Gordon Wasson, one of the first Westerners to seek out the mushroom cult. There's a chapter devoted to Walter Benjamin--a social theorist whom I've not read anything by. Pinchbeck seems to link up Benjamin's thinking to his own psychedelic quest--of which some seems to fit and at other points seems a bit of a strain--but Pinchbeck's writing style rescues the chapter from any over-pretentiousness.
From there, its on to the Amazon rain forest for initiation into the mysteries of ayahuasca, a potion made from a vine and various other plants, noted for it's foul taste. It also produces a trance state--though quite different from psilocybin mushrooms and iboga. A few tedious chapters on the Burning Man festival follow. "Burning Man" is the American equivalent of Glastonbury, only without the bands. It started in the mid-80s as a freeky Californian beach party--then expanded out into the Nevada desert flatlands. A magnet for all the weird, misfit, counter-cultural types--it happens once a year for a week. Like Glasto, though, it is becoming bigger, which leads to higher ticket prices and a distilling of the original spirit--such as having "luxury" quarters for the high-roller attendees--a have-and-have-not situation--where's the egalitarian, counter-culture notion in that?
Pinchbeck's quest rolls on, smoking DMT, a fast-acting and very powerful hallucinogen, at an 'entheobotany' conference in Mexico. He also re-tells the oft-told fable of LSD and the 60s--though I didn't agree with his facile put-down of Timothy Leary as one of the "central villains" of the "psychedelic revival". Sure, the guy made mistakes, but not taking interest in some of his acid-insights seems to be throwing out the baby with the bathwater, or a simile of your choice.
He also suffers some setbacks, as toward the end of the book, he experiments (with a friend) with DPT--a synthetic chemical relative of DMT--and spirals into a strange realm of "sci-fi, demonic, MTV-postmodernism". When he comes down, strange things start happening in his apartment--until he finally performs a Buddhist meditation to "clear things out". The books events end in India, in a flashback to 1997, where Pinchbeck takes part in the Kumbh Mehla ceremony--which than leads to him accepting the Bwiti iboga ceremony assignment.
I was a bit hesitant about reading this once I found out Pinchbeck was a dyed-in-the-wool New York intellectual, raised by the usual liberal parents, standard 'good school' college education (my own prejudice, to be sure). I found myself quite surprised as his writing style seems mostly grounded and not prone to hipper-than-thou witticisms. Some of Pinchbeck's conclusions will seem familiar to readers of Robert Anton Wilson, or even Tim Leary, such as multiple "realities" and logic other than 'yes' or 'no' experienced while high and reflecting afterward. Of course, he throws in the obligatory "save the planet" and "Western society is corrupt" notions as well--but there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with that to me. I would recommend this book to those who are curious about psychedelics and maybe don't have the patience for R.A.W. or Leary or Terence McKenna just yet (though you should get round to those if the subject interests you).
Also posted at The Bear Pit, with a few alterations.
26 July 2006
25 July 2006
Mr.Bear Recommends
Jonathan Rice Trouble Is Real (2005)
'Take a pinch of M.Ward, wrap him up in A.Bird, add a bit of Harcourt'...well, that's how I hear Jonathan Rice, who is entirely new to me but released an album last year. He's a Scottish-American who makes folky rock music with overtones of the grandiose. He is mates with Conor Oberst but please don't let that put you off! Rice is also a close associate of Rilo Kiley and even closer to RK's singer, Jenny Lewis (lucky bugger!). Well worth hearing even if he did once have a shitty hairstyle.
Chip Taylor & Carrie Rodriguez Red Dog Tracks (2005)
Texan duo Taylor & Rodriguez make music that is at once earthy and heavenly. Taylor has a gruff vocal style but a singular way with country influenced material whilst Rodriguez plays the fiddle and sings in a perfect nasal twang. She's like Alison Krauss but with more guts. The songs are excellently arranged and moving in content and performance. If you like 'South By Southwest', Austin-style country-folk, this is for you.
'Take a pinch of M.Ward, wrap him up in A.Bird, add a bit of Harcourt'...well, that's how I hear Jonathan Rice, who is entirely new to me but released an album last year. He's a Scottish-American who makes folky rock music with overtones of the grandiose. He is mates with Conor Oberst but please don't let that put you off! Rice is also a close associate of Rilo Kiley and even closer to RK's singer, Jenny Lewis (lucky bugger!). Well worth hearing even if he did once have a shitty hairstyle.
Chip Taylor & Carrie Rodriguez Red Dog Tracks (2005)
Texan duo Taylor & Rodriguez make music that is at once earthy and heavenly. Taylor has a gruff vocal style but a singular way with country influenced material whilst Rodriguez plays the fiddle and sings in a perfect nasal twang. She's like Alison Krauss but with more guts. The songs are excellently arranged and moving in content and performance. If you like 'South By Southwest', Austin-style country-folk, this is for you.
24 July 2006
From the "Suddenly-I-Feel-Really-Old" Dept.
21 Shears 39 p.r.S.P.
Island/Universal Records have released a 15th anniversary, 3-disc special edition of The Orb's debut album, Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld. Mm-hm, Mm-hm--O.K., yeah, anniversary edition.....AAAAAACK! That album's been out for 15 YEARS!!! Anyone else remember when it was released? The first time I heard Little Fluffy Clouds was in '90 on WWUH's "Greatest Show From Earth" programme. If memory serves me correctly (which it prolly doesn't)--they played the entire first disc straight through...good times!
Island/Universal Records have released a 15th anniversary, 3-disc special edition of The Orb's debut album, Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld. Mm-hm, Mm-hm--O.K., yeah, anniversary edition.....AAAAAACK! That album's been out for 15 YEARS!!! Anyone else remember when it was released? The first time I heard Little Fluffy Clouds was in '90 on WWUH's "Greatest Show From Earth" programme. If memory serves me correctly (which it prolly doesn't)--they played the entire first disc straight through...good times!
21 July 2006
Daughter Of Cinema Corner
25 Tammuz 5766
Right....so the other film I watched last weekend is Neil Marshall's The Descent. I had been curious about it since it was released in the theatre last year. Pixie's not a horror-film fan, so I agreed to watch it while she was doing some housework upstairs and away from the TV.
The story concerns a group of daredevil, adrenaline-junkie women who spelunk in the wrong cave at the wrong time. The film opens with a few of the women white-water rafting in Scotland. Juno (Natalie Mendoza), the sole American and "alpha-female" of the pack..Sarah (Shauna MacDonald), the level-headed Scotswoman and Sam (MyAnna Buring), a somewhat timid but adventurous Scandinavian. While returning home after the rafting--Sarah and her husband and daughter are involved in an horrific car accident, leaving her hospitalised and the others dead (her daughter dying quite violently). Juno high-tails back to The States (much is made of this later in the film)--and Sarah takes a year to pick up the pieces.
Juno reconvenes the group somewhere in the Appalachian mountains for a weekend of adventure. Each of the original three add another member to the group. Sarah is joined by Beth (Alex Reid), a schoolteacher and close friend. Sam brings her sister Rebecca (Saskia Mulder) and Juno invites Holly (Nora-Jane Noone), a spritely obnoxious Irish daredevil who enjoys scaling cathdrals and tall buildings. After a night of bonding over alcohol and macho girl-talk, they wake early and set off, follwing Juno's directions to the cave they will explore.
A fairly simple descent into the main chamber of the cave is undertaken. Juno somehow knows that the only way out of it is through a small tunnel at one side. They struggle through, but a panicky moment happens when Sarah becomes stuck. The rest of the group pull her to safety, just as the tunnel collapses, trapping them underground. While going over their options, one being that the local authorities will know they are down there and come to find them after a certain time, Juno reveals that they aren't in the "local tourist cave"--but an "unknown system". When confronted by the others as to why, she offers the feeble reason of "wanting to claim this place for us..for Sarah".
It's decided that they should press on and try to find another way out of the system. Soon, a bit of Lovecraftian paranoia descends when Sarah starts hearing strange chirruping sounds, then sees "a man" in one of the tunnels. The others, especially Juno, dismiss these as hallucinations and they continue making their way through the cave. A harrowing sequence occurs when they have to cross a deep chasm with just a couple of ropes--but everyone survives. Holly, thinking she's discovered the way out--slips into a hole and severly breaks her leg--leading to a gruesome scene where one of the group (Rebecca, maybe?) has to try and place Holly's broken bone back inside of her leg to splint it. They soon find themselves inside another large chamber and their flashlights are starting to fail. And then that chirruping noise starts again.
In one of the cleverest moments in the film--one of the group is looking through the night-vision screen of Holly's digital-video camera--when the "man" is seen standing just behind Juno. Only, it's not a man--it's like a cross between one of the orcs from "Lord Of The Rings" and the "Lamprey-Man" from "The X-Files". It scrambles up the cave wall and disappears into the dark. The girls try to make a break for it--but, of course, with Holly being injured and "the slow one"--she is attacked by the creature and becomes the first victim of the cave. There's a bit of a "Scooby-Doo" moment where the rest of the group become separated and Sarah loses conciousness. It also transpires that there isn't just one creature--but a whole tribe of them living in the cave.
The rest of the film covers the attempts of the remaining group to escape the cave while battling or avoiding the creatures. Juno gets tough and Sarah wakes up in the creatures' feeding pit, littered with the bones of their former victims, and gets tough herself. There is the usual "picked off one by one" element of a lot of horror films--but "The Descent" tries to depict that in a novel way as well. Throw in a couple of decent homages to other films (namely Carrie and Apocalypse Now) and a whole lotta symbolism (Sarah is metaphorically "re-born" not once, but twice in the film...and what about the name "Juno"--when the rest have monikers like 'Rebecca' and 'Beth'). I won't let on about the ending, in case you want to watch it--but it does throw you at first.
Overall, despite a couple of horror-film cliches (the "one-by-one" thing and the "foolhardy" member of the group who gets it first)--I liked "The Descent". The cast of (relative) unknowns held down the acting front and the suspense and direction seemed excellent to me. Even the CGI creature moments didn't look that bad. I watched this in the afternoon with the windows open and it still managed to creep me out. Well done, Mr. Marshall and cast!
Right....so the other film I watched last weekend is Neil Marshall's The Descent. I had been curious about it since it was released in the theatre last year. Pixie's not a horror-film fan, so I agreed to watch it while she was doing some housework upstairs and away from the TV.
The story concerns a group of daredevil, adrenaline-junkie women who spelunk in the wrong cave at the wrong time. The film opens with a few of the women white-water rafting in Scotland. Juno (Natalie Mendoza), the sole American and "alpha-female" of the pack..Sarah (Shauna MacDonald), the level-headed Scotswoman and Sam (MyAnna Buring), a somewhat timid but adventurous Scandinavian. While returning home after the rafting--Sarah and her husband and daughter are involved in an horrific car accident, leaving her hospitalised and the others dead (her daughter dying quite violently). Juno high-tails back to The States (much is made of this later in the film)--and Sarah takes a year to pick up the pieces.
Juno reconvenes the group somewhere in the Appalachian mountains for a weekend of adventure. Each of the original three add another member to the group. Sarah is joined by Beth (Alex Reid), a schoolteacher and close friend. Sam brings her sister Rebecca (Saskia Mulder) and Juno invites Holly (Nora-Jane Noone), a spritely obnoxious Irish daredevil who enjoys scaling cathdrals and tall buildings. After a night of bonding over alcohol and macho girl-talk, they wake early and set off, follwing Juno's directions to the cave they will explore.A fairly simple descent into the main chamber of the cave is undertaken. Juno somehow knows that the only way out of it is through a small tunnel at one side. They struggle through, but a panicky moment happens when Sarah becomes stuck. The rest of the group pull her to safety, just as the tunnel collapses, trapping them underground. While going over their options, one being that the local authorities will know they are down there and come to find them after a certain time, Juno reveals that they aren't in the "local tourist cave"--but an "unknown system". When confronted by the others as to why, she offers the feeble reason of "wanting to claim this place for us..for Sarah".
It's decided that they should press on and try to find another way out of the system. Soon, a bit of Lovecraftian paranoia descends when Sarah starts hearing strange chirruping sounds, then sees "a man" in one of the tunnels. The others, especially Juno, dismiss these as hallucinations and they continue making their way through the cave. A harrowing sequence occurs when they have to cross a deep chasm with just a couple of ropes--but everyone survives. Holly, thinking she's discovered the way out--slips into a hole and severly breaks her leg--leading to a gruesome scene where one of the group (Rebecca, maybe?) has to try and place Holly's broken bone back inside of her leg to splint it. They soon find themselves inside another large chamber and their flashlights are starting to fail. And then that chirruping noise starts again.
In one of the cleverest moments in the film--one of the group is looking through the night-vision screen of Holly's digital-video camera--when the "man" is seen standing just behind Juno. Only, it's not a man--it's like a cross between one of the orcs from "Lord Of The Rings" and the "Lamprey-Man" from "The X-Files". It scrambles up the cave wall and disappears into the dark. The girls try to make a break for it--but, of course, with Holly being injured and "the slow one"--she is attacked by the creature and becomes the first victim of the cave. There's a bit of a "Scooby-Doo" moment where the rest of the group become separated and Sarah loses conciousness. It also transpires that there isn't just one creature--but a whole tribe of them living in the cave.
The rest of the film covers the attempts of the remaining group to escape the cave while battling or avoiding the creatures. Juno gets tough and Sarah wakes up in the creatures' feeding pit, littered with the bones of their former victims, and gets tough herself. There is the usual "picked off one by one" element of a lot of horror films--but "The Descent" tries to depict that in a novel way as well. Throw in a couple of decent homages to other films (namely Carrie and Apocalypse Now) and a whole lotta symbolism (Sarah is metaphorically "re-born" not once, but twice in the film...and what about the name "Juno"--when the rest have monikers like 'Rebecca' and 'Beth'). I won't let on about the ending, in case you want to watch it--but it does throw you at first.
Overall, despite a couple of horror-film cliches (the "one-by-one" thing and the "foolhardy" member of the group who gets it first)--I liked "The Descent". The cast of (relative) unknowns held down the acting front and the suspense and direction seemed excellent to me. Even the CGI creature moments didn't look that bad. I watched this in the afternoon with the windows open and it still managed to creep me out. Well done, Mr. Marshall and cast!
18 July 2006
The Special Relationship : Yo Blair!
'Yo, Blair!': Overheard at the G8
Published: 18 July 2006
Bush: Yo, Blair. How are you doing? (Does he regard Mr Blair as an equal? What about 'Yo, Tony'?)
Blair: I'm just...
Bush: You're leaving?
Blair: No, no, no not yet. On this trade thingy....(inaudible) (Mr Blair is getting anxious that the World Trade Organisation is falling apart because some nations, including the US, are putting domestic interests before a worldwide free trade agreement)
Bush: Yeah, I told that to the man.
Blair: Are you planning to say that here or not?
Bush: If you want me to.
Blair: Well, it's just that if the discussion arises...
Bush: I just want some movement.
Blair: Yeah.
Bush: Yesterday we didn't see much movement.
Blair: No, no, it may be that it's not, it may be that it's impossible.
Bush: I am prepared to say it.
Blair: But it's just I think what we need to be an opposition...
Bush: Who is introducing the trade?
Blair: Angela (The German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, will lead the trade discussion. That is good for Mr Blair. She is on his side.)
Bush: Tell her to call 'em.
Blair: Yes.
Bush: Tell her to put him on, them on the spot. Thanks for the sweater it's awfully thoughtful of you.
Blair: It's a pleasure.
Bush: I know you picked it out yourself.
Blair: Oh, absolutely, in fact (inaudible)
Bush: What about Kofi? (inaudible) His attitude to ceasefire and everything else ... happens. (Change of subject. Now they are on to Lebanon and the UN secretary general, Kofi Annan)
Blair: Yeah, no I think the (inaudible) is really difficult. We can't stop this unless you get this international business agreed.
Bush: Yeah. (Mr Blair is trying to push the idea of a UN peacekeeping force in Lebanon. That 'yeah' does not sound like a wholehearted agreement)
Blair: I don't know what you guys have talked about, but as I say I am perfectly happy to try and see what the lie of the land is, but you need that done quickly because otherwise it will spiral. (Meaning: 'Please, George, let me go to the Middle East and be a world statesman')
Bush: I think Condi is going to go pretty soon. (Meaning: 'No')
Blair: But that's, that's, that's all that matters. But if you... you see it will take some time to get that together. (Meaning: 'Oh well, all right, if you don't want me to. Just a thought')
Bush: Yeah, yeah.
Blair: But at least it gives people...
Bush: It's a process, I agree. I told her your offer to... (Meaning: 'Drop it. You're not going.')
Blair: Well... it's only if I mean... you know. If she's got a..., or if she needs the ground prepared as it were... Because obviously if she goes out, she's got to succeed, if it were, whereas I can go out and just talk.
Bush: You see, the ... thing is what they need to do is to get Syria, to get Hizbollah to stop doing this shit and it's over. (Mr Bush is expressing his belief that Syria is pulling Hizbollah's strings, while Mr Blair is hinting the Syrians might be up to no good as well)
Blair: (inaudible)
Bush: (inaudible)
Blair: Syria.
Bush: Why?
Blair: Because I think this is all part of the same thing.
Bush: Yeah.
Blair: What does he think? He thinks if Lebanon turns out fine, if we get a solution in Israel and Palestine, Iraq goes in the right way... (Here they might be talking about Kofi Annan, or they may mean the Syrian President, Bashir Assad)
Bush: Yeah, yeah, he is sweet. (Mr Bush is probably being sarcastic)
Blair: He is honey. And that's what the whole thing is about. It's the same with Iraq.
Bush: I felt like telling Kofi to call, to get on the phone to Assad and make something happen.
Blair: Yeah.
Bush: (inaudible)
Blair:(inaudible)
Bush: We are not blaming the Lebanese government.
Blair: Is this...? (at this point Blair taps the microphone in front of him and the sound is cut.)
Bush: Yo, Blair. How are you doing? (Does he regard Mr Blair as an equal? What about 'Yo, Tony'?)
Blair: I'm just...
Bush: You're leaving?
Blair: No, no, no not yet. On this trade thingy....(inaudible) (Mr Blair is getting anxious that the World Trade Organisation is falling apart because some nations, including the US, are putting domestic interests before a worldwide free trade agreement)
Bush: Yeah, I told that to the man.
Blair: Are you planning to say that here or not?
Bush: If you want me to.
Blair: Well, it's just that if the discussion arises...
Bush: I just want some movement.
Blair: Yeah.
Bush: Yesterday we didn't see much movement.
Blair: No, no, it may be that it's not, it may be that it's impossible.
Bush: I am prepared to say it.
Blair: But it's just I think what we need to be an opposition...
Bush: Who is introducing the trade?
Blair: Angela (The German Chancellor, Angela Merkel, will lead the trade discussion. That is good for Mr Blair. She is on his side.)
Bush: Tell her to call 'em.
Blair: Yes.
Bush: Tell her to put him on, them on the spot. Thanks for the sweater it's awfully thoughtful of you.
Blair: It's a pleasure.
Bush: I know you picked it out yourself.
Blair: Oh, absolutely, in fact (inaudible)
Bush: What about Kofi? (inaudible) His attitude to ceasefire and everything else ... happens. (Change of subject. Now they are on to Lebanon and the UN secretary general, Kofi Annan)
Blair: Yeah, no I think the (inaudible) is really difficult. We can't stop this unless you get this international business agreed.
Bush: Yeah. (Mr Blair is trying to push the idea of a UN peacekeeping force in Lebanon. That 'yeah' does not sound like a wholehearted agreement)
Blair: I don't know what you guys have talked about, but as I say I am perfectly happy to try and see what the lie of the land is, but you need that done quickly because otherwise it will spiral. (Meaning: 'Please, George, let me go to the Middle East and be a world statesman')
Bush: I think Condi is going to go pretty soon. (Meaning: 'No')
Blair: But that's, that's, that's all that matters. But if you... you see it will take some time to get that together. (Meaning: 'Oh well, all right, if you don't want me to. Just a thought')
Bush: Yeah, yeah.
Blair: But at least it gives people...
Bush: It's a process, I agree. I told her your offer to... (Meaning: 'Drop it. You're not going.')
Blair: Well... it's only if I mean... you know. If she's got a..., or if she needs the ground prepared as it were... Because obviously if she goes out, she's got to succeed, if it were, whereas I can go out and just talk.
Bush: You see, the ... thing is what they need to do is to get Syria, to get Hizbollah to stop doing this shit and it's over. (Mr Bush is expressing his belief that Syria is pulling Hizbollah's strings, while Mr Blair is hinting the Syrians might be up to no good as well)
Blair: (inaudible)
Bush: (inaudible)
Blair: Syria.
Bush: Why?
Blair: Because I think this is all part of the same thing.
Bush: Yeah.
Blair: What does he think? He thinks if Lebanon turns out fine, if we get a solution in Israel and Palestine, Iraq goes in the right way... (Here they might be talking about Kofi Annan, or they may mean the Syrian President, Bashir Assad)
Bush: Yeah, yeah, he is sweet. (Mr Bush is probably being sarcastic)
Blair: He is honey. And that's what the whole thing is about. It's the same with Iraq.
Bush: I felt like telling Kofi to call, to get on the phone to Assad and make something happen.
Blair: Yeah.
Bush: (inaudible)
Blair:(inaudible)
Bush: We are not blaming the Lebanese government.
Blair: Is this...? (at this point Blair taps the microphone in front of him and the sound is cut.)
One thinks of poodles, lap-dogs and something rotten in the state of Britain.
In Praise of Great Men
I recently received an e-mail from my old mate and musical partner, Tony, who told how his dad is suffering badly from the effects of Parkinson's Disease. If I'm not mistaken, Tone's dad must be about 80 years old or so and comes from the generation who saw Britain through the Second World War. Tone described how his dad, who now lives in residential accommation for older people, struggles every day to smoke a cigarette (having had to give up his beloved pipe) and shuffles painfully down the corridor to reach the garden where he can enjoy his puff of tobacco. What struck me was the utter determination and indomitable spirit of Tone's old dad. Happily, my own dad, who comes from the same generation, enjoys greater independence at the moment than Tony's dad, although he has had a lot health difficulties himself of late. This led me to think about people like Tony's dad and my dad and how much they have lived through, what they have taught us and how different our 'Baby-Boomer' generation is from theirs.
My father was born in 1928, around the time of the Great Depression, and was brought up in a large family in inner-city Bristol. My Grandparents, if not poverty stricken, were certainly poor; although my Grandfather, who had served in the Royal Navy, was usually fortunate enough to be in employment, having taken up the engineering trade. My dad was too young to join the forces during the war and spent the war years either dodging bombs and shapnel in Bristol (missing out on most of his schooling in the process) or as an evacuee in Devon and South Wales. I know that Tone's dad, being a few years older, earned the Burma Star for his war service in the Far East.
Having tried, unsuccessfully, to join the air force prior to the end of the war (he was too young) Dad signed up at a regular soldier with the Grenadier Guards around 1946. He didn't want to be a conscript, so he volunteered a for a long stint serving King and country.
Within a year my dad was with the British forces in Palestine, trying to keep the peace as part of the British mandate in the Middle East. He has told me a few stories of his time there but, like most old servicemen of that period, you never really get to learn much. I know he would have to go on patrol in what was then known as Trans-Jordan and I know friends of his never came back from this tour of duty. He was back for a while, though I'm not sure how long, and then he was shipped (literally) out to Malaya where he spent the best part of three years fighting Chinese Communist forces. Again, he told me about his pet monkey, how bloody hot it was, what sort of creepy-crawlies they had to contend with etc. but nothing really 'juicy'. I have been dumb enough to ask how it feels to know you have killed someone and he just doesn't answer. Why was I surprised? Anyway, once this lot was over with, things slowed down a bit and he was posted to Germany for a while. In between some of these stints he had the 'honour' of guarding the Queen at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle and looked after her jewellery at the Tower of London. As a child I was always proud to see pictures of him in his ceremonial uniform of bear-skin and red tunic. I still am. He was in the band and learned to play the flute and he was 'fortunate' enough to have taken part in Trooping The Colour a few times. There are quite a few more stories from these times, some of them funny, some not so. Life in the British army was extremely hard in those days. My dad was never over-ambitious and only ever made it to corporal, so he and his colleagues was basically treated like 'scum' by the higher NCO's and officers. Consequently, he has very little time for such concepts as 'prison reform', having, he feels, volunteered for something far worse than prison! I'm sure Tony's dad would say much the same thing. My father also despised the officer class as they were, more often than not, a 'bunch of upper-class twits', drawn from our 'finest' public schools.
My dad served a total of 12 years in the Guards. He had intented to sign-on for much longer but had to leave due to ill-health. Inspite of all the hardship and danger, I'm certain he considers these times to be the best of his life. I always feel that he has never quite adjusted back to life on 'Civvie Street' in all these long years. The army made him a man. It certainly had a knock-on effect on how my brother and I were raised and not all for the good. My dad, like most of his generation, is a strong traditionalist and whilst he was still a relatively young fellow during the 1960's, he has never had any time at all for the 'drop-out' ethos. You had to work for a living and if you lost your job you got out there and found another one. He has done just about everything you can imagine to earn a crust: mechanic, bus driver, milkman, cleaner (like Tone's dad), delivery man etc. etc. etc.. Politically, he is, like many working class men of his time, a socialist with some decidedly right wing leanings. Which doesn't make him a 'fascis't but, rather, a product of his life experience. He believes in personal responsiblity and self sufficiency. He hates scroungers and free-loaders. Naturally, I have not always seen eye to eye with him politically but, as I grow older myself, I have begun to understand his stance on many issues. Also, I'd have to say that he has not always been a 'perfect' husband for my mother but I'm sure she would defend him to the hilt and say that she knows he loves her and has done things the way he knows best.
How do us 'Baby Boomers' compare to the likes of Tony's dad and my dad? I'm afraid I have to say we just 'don't'. I suppose we are largely more enlightened on certain social issues (for what good that has done us) and we may have what seems like a more enquiring out-look on the world beyond our own shores (but who would want to travel and meet people when you've been made to do just that only to kill them?). We have had the benefits of vast improvements in state education, free access to higher education, a national health service that was 'the envy of the world' (sic) and the freedom and cash to relish the cultural experiments of the 60's and 70's. What have we done with our inheritance? Well, it's our generation who are largely in control of things now and the country appears to be decending into chaos. I know that my parents look on in total confusion and dismay as the country they fought for and loved becomes an alien society to them. We have squandered the opportunities that the previous generation gave to us and I fear it may be too late to dig ourselves out of this hole. Where once there were moral certainties (even if these were far from perfect) now we are the hostages to a 'relativism' which allows dangerous criminals to walk the streets, gangs of youths to frighten old people half to death and benefit scroungers to declare that it is their 'right' to have their near-feral children subsidised by the tax payer. Thank God we have never been called upon to defend our nation from totalitarian evil: we just don't have the backbone. If Hitler came back today we'd be in jackboots before you could blink. Maybe the next generation, the one of our own children, can raise themselves up in almost Blakean prophetic style and save us all.
Thank the Lord for Tone's dad, my dad and lots of other dads of their generation.
My father was born in 1928, around the time of the Great Depression, and was brought up in a large family in inner-city Bristol. My Grandparents, if not poverty stricken, were certainly poor; although my Grandfather, who had served in the Royal Navy, was usually fortunate enough to be in employment, having taken up the engineering trade. My dad was too young to join the forces during the war and spent the war years either dodging bombs and shapnel in Bristol (missing out on most of his schooling in the process) or as an evacuee in Devon and South Wales. I know that Tone's dad, being a few years older, earned the Burma Star for his war service in the Far East.
Having tried, unsuccessfully, to join the air force prior to the end of the war (he was too young) Dad signed up at a regular soldier with the Grenadier Guards around 1946. He didn't want to be a conscript, so he volunteered a for a long stint serving King and country.
Within a year my dad was with the British forces in Palestine, trying to keep the peace as part of the British mandate in the Middle East. He has told me a few stories of his time there but, like most old servicemen of that period, you never really get to learn much. I know he would have to go on patrol in what was then known as Trans-Jordan and I know friends of his never came back from this tour of duty. He was back for a while, though I'm not sure how long, and then he was shipped (literally) out to Malaya where he spent the best part of three years fighting Chinese Communist forces. Again, he told me about his pet monkey, how bloody hot it was, what sort of creepy-crawlies they had to contend with etc. but nothing really 'juicy'. I have been dumb enough to ask how it feels to know you have killed someone and he just doesn't answer. Why was I surprised? Anyway, once this lot was over with, things slowed down a bit and he was posted to Germany for a while. In between some of these stints he had the 'honour' of guarding the Queen at Buckingham Palace and Windsor Castle and looked after her jewellery at the Tower of London. As a child I was always proud to see pictures of him in his ceremonial uniform of bear-skin and red tunic. I still am. He was in the band and learned to play the flute and he was 'fortunate' enough to have taken part in Trooping The Colour a few times. There are quite a few more stories from these times, some of them funny, some not so. Life in the British army was extremely hard in those days. My dad was never over-ambitious and only ever made it to corporal, so he and his colleagues was basically treated like 'scum' by the higher NCO's and officers. Consequently, he has very little time for such concepts as 'prison reform', having, he feels, volunteered for something far worse than prison! I'm sure Tony's dad would say much the same thing. My father also despised the officer class as they were, more often than not, a 'bunch of upper-class twits', drawn from our 'finest' public schools.
My dad served a total of 12 years in the Guards. He had intented to sign-on for much longer but had to leave due to ill-health. Inspite of all the hardship and danger, I'm certain he considers these times to be the best of his life. I always feel that he has never quite adjusted back to life on 'Civvie Street' in all these long years. The army made him a man. It certainly had a knock-on effect on how my brother and I were raised and not all for the good. My dad, like most of his generation, is a strong traditionalist and whilst he was still a relatively young fellow during the 1960's, he has never had any time at all for the 'drop-out' ethos. You had to work for a living and if you lost your job you got out there and found another one. He has done just about everything you can imagine to earn a crust: mechanic, bus driver, milkman, cleaner (like Tone's dad), delivery man etc. etc. etc.. Politically, he is, like many working class men of his time, a socialist with some decidedly right wing leanings. Which doesn't make him a 'fascis't but, rather, a product of his life experience. He believes in personal responsiblity and self sufficiency. He hates scroungers and free-loaders. Naturally, I have not always seen eye to eye with him politically but, as I grow older myself, I have begun to understand his stance on many issues. Also, I'd have to say that he has not always been a 'perfect' husband for my mother but I'm sure she would defend him to the hilt and say that she knows he loves her and has done things the way he knows best.
How do us 'Baby Boomers' compare to the likes of Tony's dad and my dad? I'm afraid I have to say we just 'don't'. I suppose we are largely more enlightened on certain social issues (for what good that has done us) and we may have what seems like a more enquiring out-look on the world beyond our own shores (but who would want to travel and meet people when you've been made to do just that only to kill them?). We have had the benefits of vast improvements in state education, free access to higher education, a national health service that was 'the envy of the world' (sic) and the freedom and cash to relish the cultural experiments of the 60's and 70's. What have we done with our inheritance? Well, it's our generation who are largely in control of things now and the country appears to be decending into chaos. I know that my parents look on in total confusion and dismay as the country they fought for and loved becomes an alien society to them. We have squandered the opportunities that the previous generation gave to us and I fear it may be too late to dig ourselves out of this hole. Where once there were moral certainties (even if these were far from perfect) now we are the hostages to a 'relativism' which allows dangerous criminals to walk the streets, gangs of youths to frighten old people half to death and benefit scroungers to declare that it is their 'right' to have their near-feral children subsidised by the tax payer. Thank God we have never been called upon to defend our nation from totalitarian evil: we just don't have the backbone. If Hitler came back today we'd be in jackboots before you could blink. Maybe the next generation, the one of our own children, can raise themselves up in almost Blakean prophetic style and save us all.
Thank the Lord for Tone's dad, my dad and lots of other dads of their generation.
16 July 2006
Cinema Corner
27 Asadha - 1928 Saka Era
I rarely go to the movies anymore--a lot of times the sludge coming out of Hollywood just doesn't seem worth handing over £8 for. There are some films that I would like to catch on the big screen, but since I've been working most weekends lately, I don't feel like heading over to the cinema after eight hours at the job. Plus, Saturday nights are when John and Jane Q. Public all want to see a film--and I'd rather avoid the large crowds.
Pixie and I often say, about certain films, "Yeah, let's rent that when it's out in the video shop", but then we forget about them when they are released for rental. This past weekend, we actually had the time and made the effort to check out what's new in the shop. We nearly rented Capote, with Philip Seymour Hoffman as good ol' Truman--but Pixie wasn't up "for anything heavy". Confetti, the wedding mockumentary in the style of Best In Show and The Office, hasn't been released yet, so that scuppered that. In the end, we settled for Broken Flowers, the Jim Jarmusch "comedy" with Bill Murray, Sharon Stone and Jessica Lange--and I chose The Descent, the Neil Marshall horror flick set in a cave, 'cos I've been meaning to see it for a while now.
"Broken Flowers" features Murray, in his now-familiar 'old-guy-sad-sack' mode, as Don Johnston ("with a 't'"--as it becomes a running gag about his surname's similarity to the "Miami Vice" actor's name). Johnston's current girlfriend, played by Julie Delpy, is leaving him, for a reason that isn't explained. The same day, he receives a type-written letter from one of his ex-lovers, explaining that she had a child by him 19 years previous--and this child, a son, is looking for his father. Johnston isn't very intrigued by the letter, but shows it to his neighbour, Winston (played with dopey amiability by Jeffrey Wright).
Winston sees this as an opportunity for Johnston to "live his life", as Johnston mainly just sits around his house watching television. Winston convinces Johnston to make a list of his lovers from 20 years ago and with some internet research--tracks down five possible "suspects" for the letter-sender. He draws up an itenerary for Don to go and visit his former flames and try and figure out which could be his offspring's mother. Johnston, naturally, thinks his neighbor's idea is crazy--but goes along with it, possibly temporarily caught up in Winston's enthusiasm.
The "road movie" portion of the film follows--with Johnston visiting, in turn, four of the five women. Sharon Stone's race car driver's widow is first (living with her aptly-monikered young daughter Lolita). Dora (Frances Conroy) is next, who's now a pre-fab real estate agent, with her husband, an obnoxious 'Noughties' version of a yuppie. Then he sees Jessica Lange's "pet counselor", and she's one of the least impressed with seeing Don after all that time. He then travels to an out-of-the-way farmhouse--which appears to be some sort of biker commune. He confronts Penny (Tilda Swinton), but her reaction proves more hostile than Lange's Carmen--and Don is then beaten up by a couple of Penny's biker friends, who call Johnston "rude". As a last sojourn on the futile trip, he visits the grave of Michelle, another of his loves from around that time, who died in an automobile accident.
Johnston returns home, still unclear about who could've sent the letter. He sees a young man, loaded up with a large duffle bag, at the airport. The next day, after meeting Winston at their favourite cafe, he sees the young man outside--and offers to buy him a sandwich. They end up talking about philosophy and Johnston starts thinking that this may be his son. He asks the young man about his father--which gets a bad reaction--then Johnston blurts out "Look, I know I may be your father..." The young man runs off and Johnston follows him, but loses him soon after. Johnston is left standing in the street, while the camera circles him and a car goes by--with another young man staring at him out of the passenger-side window.
This being a Jarmusch film, the plot never really gets resolved. There's a sub-plot where Sherry sends a letter in the exact same envelope and hand-written on the same paper--but that only adds to the ambiguity. The acting seems O.K. to me, but I'm starting to wish Murray would do a "zany" role again. Aside from a few moments in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, he's been playing the sad-sack thing for quite some time now. It's really tough to imagine 'Don Johnston' as the lothario that the film insists he is. If he had as many lovers as the plot contrives--he must've been the "Rohypnol King of '86"--'cos I don't think he got by on charm alone. Still...worth a rental.
I rarely go to the movies anymore--a lot of times the sludge coming out of Hollywood just doesn't seem worth handing over £8 for. There are some films that I would like to catch on the big screen, but since I've been working most weekends lately, I don't feel like heading over to the cinema after eight hours at the job. Plus, Saturday nights are when John and Jane Q. Public all want to see a film--and I'd rather avoid the large crowds.
Pixie and I often say, about certain films, "Yeah, let's rent that when it's out in the video shop", but then we forget about them when they are released for rental. This past weekend, we actually had the time and made the effort to check out what's new in the shop. We nearly rented Capote, with Philip Seymour Hoffman as good ol' Truman--but Pixie wasn't up "for anything heavy". Confetti, the wedding mockumentary in the style of Best In Show and The Office, hasn't been released yet, so that scuppered that. In the end, we settled for Broken Flowers, the Jim Jarmusch "comedy" with Bill Murray, Sharon Stone and Jessica Lange--and I chose The Descent, the Neil Marshall horror flick set in a cave, 'cos I've been meaning to see it for a while now.
"Broken Flowers" features Murray, in his now-familiar 'old-guy-sad-sack' mode, as Don Johnston ("with a 't'"--as it becomes a running gag about his surname's similarity to the "Miami Vice" actor's name). Johnston's current girlfriend, played by Julie Delpy, is leaving him, for a reason that isn't explained. The same day, he receives a type-written letter from one of his ex-lovers, explaining that she had a child by him 19 years previous--and this child, a son, is looking for his father. Johnston isn't very intrigued by the letter, but shows it to his neighbour, Winston (played with dopey amiability by Jeffrey Wright).Winston sees this as an opportunity for Johnston to "live his life", as Johnston mainly just sits around his house watching television. Winston convinces Johnston to make a list of his lovers from 20 years ago and with some internet research--tracks down five possible "suspects" for the letter-sender. He draws up an itenerary for Don to go and visit his former flames and try and figure out which could be his offspring's mother. Johnston, naturally, thinks his neighbor's idea is crazy--but goes along with it, possibly temporarily caught up in Winston's enthusiasm.
The "road movie" portion of the film follows--with Johnston visiting, in turn, four of the five women. Sharon Stone's race car driver's widow is first (living with her aptly-monikered young daughter Lolita). Dora (Frances Conroy) is next, who's now a pre-fab real estate agent, with her husband, an obnoxious 'Noughties' version of a yuppie. Then he sees Jessica Lange's "pet counselor", and she's one of the least impressed with seeing Don after all that time. He then travels to an out-of-the-way farmhouse--which appears to be some sort of biker commune. He confronts Penny (Tilda Swinton), but her reaction proves more hostile than Lange's Carmen--and Don is then beaten up by a couple of Penny's biker friends, who call Johnston "rude". As a last sojourn on the futile trip, he visits the grave of Michelle, another of his loves from around that time, who died in an automobile accident.
Johnston returns home, still unclear about who could've sent the letter. He sees a young man, loaded up with a large duffle bag, at the airport. The next day, after meeting Winston at their favourite cafe, he sees the young man outside--and offers to buy him a sandwich. They end up talking about philosophy and Johnston starts thinking that this may be his son. He asks the young man about his father--which gets a bad reaction--then Johnston blurts out "Look, I know I may be your father..." The young man runs off and Johnston follows him, but loses him soon after. Johnston is left standing in the street, while the camera circles him and a car goes by--with another young man staring at him out of the passenger-side window.
This being a Jarmusch film, the plot never really gets resolved. There's a sub-plot where Sherry sends a letter in the exact same envelope and hand-written on the same paper--but that only adds to the ambiguity. The acting seems O.K. to me, but I'm starting to wish Murray would do a "zany" role again. Aside from a few moments in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, he's been playing the sad-sack thing for quite some time now. It's really tough to imagine 'Don Johnston' as the lothario that the film insists he is. If he had as many lovers as the plot contrives--he must've been the "Rohypnol King of '86"--'cos I don't think he got by on charm alone. Still...worth a rental.
13 July 2006
Hey Man, Let's Get S-M-A-L-L-L-L
63-2-102 A.N. (Thelemic)
I received an e-mail from Antares over at Magick River. He sent a very interesting comparison study. Check this out. Like, whoa doooode. Nice modeling work to whomever crafted those things--Earth itself must've taken ages to complete.
I received an e-mail from Antares over at Magick River. He sent a very interesting comparison study. Check this out. Like, whoa doooode. Nice modeling work to whomever crafted those things--Earth itself must've taken ages to complete.
11 July 2006
Syd Barrett's Final Trip
20 Tir-Mordad - Year 1385
I just read Bear's post and I'm gutted. I felt I had to weigh in with my own tribute--as Pink Floyd are one of my all-time favourite bands.
If you didn't know already, Syd Barrett, one of the founders of Pink Floyd passed away this past Friday. He was 60 years old. His brother, Alan Barrett, reported the news today.
His story has been told, re-told (and exaggerated) often. I'll do my own sorta rambling "Cliff Notes" version here.
Roger Keith Barrett was born on January 6th, 1946 (Gregorian) in Cambridgeshire, UK. Not a lot is known about his childhood, but he did attend art school in Cambridge. He picked up the guitar, often jamming with his friend David Gilmour (who, somewhat ironically, would replace him in the Floyd). He moved to London in his late teens--and met up with another old school friend, Roger Waters. Waters was playing in a band (with various names like The T-Set, The Architectural Abdabs, The Megadeaths) and decided he needed a new face, so Syd was invited in on the lead guitar post. They churned through the typical set of blues and R&B covers, even recording a single, Lucy Leave b/w King Bee, in 1965.
Syd also began to dabble with psychedelics at this point, mostly marijuana--but in summer 1966, he went to the Gog Magog hills, ate some hallucinogenic mushrooms--and the UK's first psychedelic superstar was born. The band hit the nascent London underground scene, bouyed by Barrett's new compositions. They were far-removed from 12-bar blues...incorporating trippy light shows and improvised "freak-outs", reflecting Floyd's front man's mind-expansions. They soon became the "house band" of the new sound, with few rivals (except maybe The Soft Machine).
Maverick young producer Joe Boyd spotted them at a show and offered some studio time. Barrett responded with what is considered the crown jewel of UK psychedelic pop, Arnold Layne. Released in March 1967, it's unique lyrical content (about a transvestite who recieves a harsh sentence from the law when caught) and production saw it make the charts. Syd' vocals were also distinctive and have been imitated by may others, most notably Robyn Hitchcock and Colin Newman of Wire. "Arnold Layne"s success was proof of Barrett's mastery of combining words and melody.
The Floyd's first full-length (after their See Emily Play single 'sound-tracked' the fabled "Summer Of Love") album, The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, was released in August 1967. So forward-looking was this collection that some of it's studio trickery still hasn't been surpassed. Barrett's capabilities were at their height, with psychedelic pop whimsy like Mathilda Mother and The Gnome alongside classic freak-outs like Pow R. Toch and their signature jam, Interstellar Overdrive. "The Piper..." formed a UK psychedelic triptych with the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's.. and The Pretty Things' S.F. Sorrow--for being the top psych records of any era. Pink Floyd and Syd were the toast of the underground, but all of the attention and a mammoth LSD intake started to unravel Barrett very quickly.
A disastrous U.S. tour in autumn '67 confirmed the band's fears that Syd was "coming unglued"--especially the much-reported "Mandrax-in-the-hair" incident and Barrett's de-tuning his guitar on-stage. In early 1968, it was decided that he would function as a Brian Wilson type figure, writing and recording but not touring with the band. Replacements were sought out, including Davy O'List of The Nice--but eventually they asked Barrett's old Cambridge mate, David Gilmour. A few shows were played as a five-piece, but by this point, Syd had no interest in the pop-star treadmill--and he elected to leave the band altogether, after two of his singles written for the group, Vegetable Man and Scream Thy Last Scream, were rejected for release. His last recorded moment with Pink Floyd is Jugband Blues, on the '68 album, Saucerful Of Secrets--and ends with the haunting lines "...and what exactly is a dream/and what exactly is a joke?..."
A year later Barrett would enter the studio for his first solo album, The Madcap Laughs--but by this time, he was so debilitated that he couldn't keep a song in the same key for more than one take and the sessions were reaching epic false-take proportions. Gilmour and Waters (along with all of The Soft Machine) stepped in to help complete the record and it was released in January 1970. The sparse love songs and trippy puzzled missives made for uneasy listening and failed to spark off Syd's solo career, though he was allowed to follow up "Madcap.." with a second set, Barrett, released in November 1970. Waters and Gilmour again helped out, but it wasn't enough and Syd moved back to Cambridge. He formed a short-lived trio called Stars with Twink (of Tomorrow and The Pink Fairies) and another mate on bass, in 1971, but it only lasted for a couple of live gigs (one opening for Hawkwind at the Cambridge Corn Exchange) and a few home recordings. After that--Syd all but retired from music and performing
Barrett's legacy continued in Pink Floyd, however, especially in Roger Waters' song-writing. His "madness" and breakdown loomed large in songs like If (on Atom Heart Mother, released in 1970), Free Four (from the Obscured By Clouds sound-track, released in 1972)--and of course, the ground-breaking song cycle/"concept" albums Dark Side Of The Moon (1973) and Wish You Were Here (1975). It's also been widely reported about Syd showing up to the studio during the sessions for "W.Y.W.H." and asking when he was going to do "his bit". He looked so completely different that the band didn't know who he was at first. Waters also based the "Pink Floyd" character, in the 1979 double-album/rock opera The Wall, partly on himself and partly on Syd. Over time, Barrett became a cult figure, mostly forgotten. In 1980, the Television Personalities had a minor hit with I Know Where Syd Barrett Lives, though they annoyed Gilmour when opening for Pink Floyd by actually telling the crowd where Barrett lived in Cambridge. Gilmour was very protective of his former friend, making sure he received his royalty cheques and checking on his health.
Barrett thankfully missed the bitter split between his former band-mates in the early 80s and kept a low profile. Interest in Floyd's founder rose again in 1990 with Nicholas Schaffner's "A Saucerful Of Secrets: A History Of Pink Floyd" book, which published new photos of the former front man. Shows for Floyd's 1994 tour started with a film of four men trying to carry a huge bust through a field--the bust's face looked a lot like the young Barrett. Periodic updates about Syd's health appeared, telling of his diabetic condition, sometimes they seemed severe. Just last year, Barrett was nearly in a coma, though he recovered after a stint in hospital.
This time, it appears the diabetes got the better of him. R.I.P. Roger Keith Barrett.
To the shining crazy diamond, the psychedelic poet of '67 and beyond, the engine of the starship that took us into interstellar overdrive--thank you for all of the music...you will be missed.
I just read Bear's post and I'm gutted. I felt I had to weigh in with my own tribute--as Pink Floyd are one of my all-time favourite bands.
If you didn't know already, Syd Barrett, one of the founders of Pink Floyd passed away this past Friday. He was 60 years old. His brother, Alan Barrett, reported the news today.
His story has been told, re-told (and exaggerated) often. I'll do my own sorta rambling "Cliff Notes" version here.
Roger Keith Barrett was born on January 6th, 1946 (Gregorian) in Cambridgeshire, UK. Not a lot is known about his childhood, but he did attend art school in Cambridge. He picked up the guitar, often jamming with his friend David Gilmour (who, somewhat ironically, would replace him in the Floyd). He moved to London in his late teens--and met up with another old school friend, Roger Waters. Waters was playing in a band (with various names like The T-Set, The Architectural Abdabs, The Megadeaths) and decided he needed a new face, so Syd was invited in on the lead guitar post. They churned through the typical set of blues and R&B covers, even recording a single, Lucy Leave b/w King Bee, in 1965.
Syd also began to dabble with psychedelics at this point, mostly marijuana--but in summer 1966, he went to the Gog Magog hills, ate some hallucinogenic mushrooms--and the UK's first psychedelic superstar was born. The band hit the nascent London underground scene, bouyed by Barrett's new compositions. They were far-removed from 12-bar blues...incorporating trippy light shows and improvised "freak-outs", reflecting Floyd's front man's mind-expansions. They soon became the "house band" of the new sound, with few rivals (except maybe The Soft Machine).
Maverick young producer Joe Boyd spotted them at a show and offered some studio time. Barrett responded with what is considered the crown jewel of UK psychedelic pop, Arnold Layne. Released in March 1967, it's unique lyrical content (about a transvestite who recieves a harsh sentence from the law when caught) and production saw it make the charts. Syd' vocals were also distinctive and have been imitated by may others, most notably Robyn Hitchcock and Colin Newman of Wire. "Arnold Layne"s success was proof of Barrett's mastery of combining words and melody.
The Floyd's first full-length (after their See Emily Play single 'sound-tracked' the fabled "Summer Of Love") album, The Piper At The Gates Of Dawn, was released in August 1967. So forward-looking was this collection that some of it's studio trickery still hasn't been surpassed. Barrett's capabilities were at their height, with psychedelic pop whimsy like Mathilda Mother and The Gnome alongside classic freak-outs like Pow R. Toch and their signature jam, Interstellar Overdrive. "The Piper..." formed a UK psychedelic triptych with the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's.. and The Pretty Things' S.F. Sorrow--for being the top psych records of any era. Pink Floyd and Syd were the toast of the underground, but all of the attention and a mammoth LSD intake started to unravel Barrett very quickly.
A disastrous U.S. tour in autumn '67 confirmed the band's fears that Syd was "coming unglued"--especially the much-reported "Mandrax-in-the-hair" incident and Barrett's de-tuning his guitar on-stage. In early 1968, it was decided that he would function as a Brian Wilson type figure, writing and recording but not touring with the band. Replacements were sought out, including Davy O'List of The Nice--but eventually they asked Barrett's old Cambridge mate, David Gilmour. A few shows were played as a five-piece, but by this point, Syd had no interest in the pop-star treadmill--and he elected to leave the band altogether, after two of his singles written for the group, Vegetable Man and Scream Thy Last Scream, were rejected for release. His last recorded moment with Pink Floyd is Jugband Blues, on the '68 album, Saucerful Of Secrets--and ends with the haunting lines "...and what exactly is a dream/and what exactly is a joke?..."
A year later Barrett would enter the studio for his first solo album, The Madcap Laughs--but by this time, he was so debilitated that he couldn't keep a song in the same key for more than one take and the sessions were reaching epic false-take proportions. Gilmour and Waters (along with all of The Soft Machine) stepped in to help complete the record and it was released in January 1970. The sparse love songs and trippy puzzled missives made for uneasy listening and failed to spark off Syd's solo career, though he was allowed to follow up "Madcap.." with a second set, Barrett, released in November 1970. Waters and Gilmour again helped out, but it wasn't enough and Syd moved back to Cambridge. He formed a short-lived trio called Stars with Twink (of Tomorrow and The Pink Fairies) and another mate on bass, in 1971, but it only lasted for a couple of live gigs (one opening for Hawkwind at the Cambridge Corn Exchange) and a few home recordings. After that--Syd all but retired from music and performing
Barrett's legacy continued in Pink Floyd, however, especially in Roger Waters' song-writing. His "madness" and breakdown loomed large in songs like If (on Atom Heart Mother, released in 1970), Free Four (from the Obscured By Clouds sound-track, released in 1972)--and of course, the ground-breaking song cycle/"concept" albums Dark Side Of The Moon (1973) and Wish You Were Here (1975). It's also been widely reported about Syd showing up to the studio during the sessions for "W.Y.W.H." and asking when he was going to do "his bit". He looked so completely different that the band didn't know who he was at first. Waters also based the "Pink Floyd" character, in the 1979 double-album/rock opera The Wall, partly on himself and partly on Syd. Over time, Barrett became a cult figure, mostly forgotten. In 1980, the Television Personalities had a minor hit with I Know Where Syd Barrett Lives, though they annoyed Gilmour when opening for Pink Floyd by actually telling the crowd where Barrett lived in Cambridge. Gilmour was very protective of his former friend, making sure he received his royalty cheques and checking on his health.
Barrett thankfully missed the bitter split between his former band-mates in the early 80s and kept a low profile. Interest in Floyd's founder rose again in 1990 with Nicholas Schaffner's "A Saucerful Of Secrets: A History Of Pink Floyd" book, which published new photos of the former front man. Shows for Floyd's 1994 tour started with a film of four men trying to carry a huge bust through a field--the bust's face looked a lot like the young Barrett. Periodic updates about Syd's health appeared, telling of his diabetic condition, sometimes they seemed severe. Just last year, Barrett was nearly in a coma, though he recovered after a stint in hospital.
This time, it appears the diabetes got the better of him. R.I.P. Roger Keith Barrett.
To the shining crazy diamond, the psychedelic poet of '67 and beyond, the engine of the starship that took us into interstellar overdrive--thank you for all of the music...you will be missed.
Syd Barrett RIP
I have just heard the terribly sad news that founder and former leader of Pink Floyd, Syd Barrett, has died at the age of 60. Syd had suffered from diabetes for some years and, it seems, the disease finally got the better of him. Many, many words have been written about Syd and his troubles and it's a shame he is mainly known for these difficulties. Suffice to say that without him there would never have been a Pink Floyd. It was Syd's poetic soul that initially propelled the band into the psychedelic maelstrom of London in the 60's. The other band members tagged along but it was Syd who threw himself body and soul into the world of music, magic and mayhem. He never really returned from his journey but protected his fragile psyche by retreating to his childhood haven of Cambridge.
I'm not going to say that the Floyd never made a better album than 'Piper At The Gates of Dawn' but they certainly never made a more enjoyable one.
Shine on, Syd. Shine on.
10 July 2006
One For Aloicious
10 Pedole - 132 P.E.
I Photoshopped this together after seeing the original album cover a few days ago. I'll explain later. I hope Aloicious is O.K., he hasn't posted yet and we haven't heard from him.
I Photoshopped this together after seeing the original album cover a few days ago. I'll explain later. I hope Aloicious is O.K., he hasn't posted yet and we haven't heard from him.
09 July 2006
One Patatow..Two Patatow...
Setting Orange - Confusion 44 - Year Of Our Lady Of Discord 3172
I received an e-mail from Maybe Logic Central today--and it seems the good Doctor Wilson has recovered from his recent illness--thank Eris!
In fact, R.A.W. seems to be feeling so well--that he's auctioning off some of his personal items at eBay. Damn, those "alternate currency" Patatow notes look pretty fuggin' cool--only I don't have enough "regular" currency to purchase them. Anyone got any 'coin of the realm' to lend me? ;-)
Oh yeah--the new Maybe Quarterly is up. Give it a read. Peace!
08 July 2006
Lambchop Get Damaged
The mighty 'Chop will release a new album in August. It's called Damaged and here's the tracklisting:
"Paperback Bible"
"Prepared [2]"
"The Rise and Fall of fhe Letter P"
"A Day Without Glasses"
"Beers Before The Barbican"
"I Would Have Waited Here All Day"
"Crackers"
"Fear"
"Short"
"The Decline of Country and Western Civilization"
The album is said to be closer to the style of Is A Woman than 2004's slightly wobbly Awcmon/Noyoucmon double set. Lambchop are touring from late summer through the autumn, so let's hope for some UK dates near us! Keep an eye out.
"Paperback Bible"
"Prepared [2]"
"The Rise and Fall of fhe Letter P"
"A Day Without Glasses"
"Beers Before The Barbican"
"I Would Have Waited Here All Day"
"Crackers"
"Fear"
"Short"
"The Decline of Country and Western Civilization"
The album is said to be closer to the style of Is A Woman than 2004's slightly wobbly Awcmon/Noyoucmon double set. Lambchop are touring from late summer through the autumn, so let's hope for some UK dates near us! Keep an eye out.
06 July 2006
Best. Album. Title. Ever.
4 Shears - 39 p.r. S.P.
Yep, that's right.
...except for Amon Duul II's Phallus Dei (that's 'God's Cock' in plain anglais)...and Winkle Pick'r and the Greasy Tubas' Sloppy Joe Hits The Skids, of course.
04 July 2006
Like Bombs Bursting In Air
Day 9 (Jia-Wu) - Month 6 (Yi Wei) - Republic Year 95 (Bing-Xu)It's my small custom to play Jimi Hendrix's eclectic/electric version of The Star-Spangled Banner today--specifically the version he played at the Woodstock festival in August 1969. Today, of course, being the 4th of July (Gregorian calendar)--the day in 1776 that the colonial representatives declared themselves free of George III and Britain's rule. A long and costly war followed, with the colonial armies nearly being defeated a number of times until the British finally surrendered in October 1781. The colonials had also been helped by one of Britain's oldest enemies, the French armed forces.
From then--the United States Of America--as the former colonies came to be called, grew in size and stature...buying out colonies of France and forcing the Spanish and Mexican colonials--as well as the Native Americans--off of their land. There was a civil war, fought over the slave trade, and the wealthy plantation-owners in the Southern states' self-claimed "rights" to keep slaves. The Southern states lost the war, with a bitter rift forming between the "Union" states and themselves which continues to this day, albeit in a more supressed fashion. The Native Americans paid the heaviest price for the Western expansion, with many tribes being decimated and the survivors forced to live on government-allocated "reservations".
America industrialized in the later 1800's and early 1900's, but was found woefully unprepared when World War I broke out in Europe. In just a few years, though, America had mobilized a fighting force that would become one of the best (and most feared) in the world. World War II ended in 1945 and America's main "enemy" afterward was the Soviet Union. The atomic bomb had been invented during WWII and two had been dropped on Japan in 1945, which changed the face of warfare forever. The U.S.A. was now a "superpower"--and the only one--until the Soviets built their own nuclear weapons and became the "other" superpower. There seemed to be an understanding that an all-out nuclear war was a "no-win" situation, so the two fought various small conflicts during the "Cold War". Two of these were the Korean War and the Vietnam War. Korea was declared a "stalemate", but Vietnam was the first time in U.S. history that it's forces were faced with defeat. Vietnam also divided up the U.S. population into for and against groups--and also fomented the formation of the "counter-culture". It was in this time-frame that a young-ish African-American guitar player stepped up to the stage at a "hippie" festival and delivered a version of the U.S. national anthem that would still be relevant 30+ years later.
That's the Ciff-Notes version of U.S. history--well, the one I was taught throughout junior and high school, anyway--minus a few events here and there--and various presidents' names. Oh yeah, I did add the bit about Hendrix at the end--I don't think that's in too many cirriculums.
I've never been much of a "patriot" myself--the Fourth always just meant a cookout, seeing the relatives and a day off from work. I never really liked singing the anthem, or flag-waving. I realize that there seem to be great things about the nation, but with those, seem to be problematic and flawed things as well. It's also more than just a nation of Republican v. Democrats/right-wing X-tians v. Left-wing liberals/etc. etc.--though it must be said that that's what the media usually focus on--especially in the past five to six years. There have been amazing inventions to come from America--not least it's various forms of music (most of which originated in the African-American communtiy): jazz, the blues, rock-n-roll, hip-hop..even electronic dance music. America also invented the skyscraper as a form of architecture..and it's massive road system is unequalled anywhere. The American government started as a positive experiment in the 1770s, a reaction to the monarchy that previously ruled--but over the course of time--has seemed to solidify into a near-tsarist configuration--and this is troubling to me.
Am I "proud" to be an American? I suppose I'm happy to "be" American--I couldn't really be anything else--as I was born there. I moved from the U.S. a couple of years ago--almost ironically, I moved back to America's former "owners", England. England, as most know, is now tied to the States in the so-called "War On Terror". An increasing number of British citizens are becoming opposed to the occupation in Iraq and the U.S. camp at Guantanamo Bay. In spite of that, I have not personally run across any rampant anti-Americanism here. Robert Anton Wilson has said that if he were to travel, he would do his best to fake an Irish accent, or an English one--so no-one would know he's American. Since I can't fake an English accent for more than a couple of sentences--that plan seems to be out for me. So I"is" what I "is".
Bringing this rambling essay back around to Jimi...I wonder, if he were alive today, would he still play "The Star-Spangled Banner"--and would it be different now? My money's on "Yes", he would play it--but "no", it wouldn't be different. All those wailing dissonances and crashing feedback signified the bombs dropping on North Vietnam in '69--and they can signify the car bombs and rocket-propelled grenades in Baghdad. Sadly, some things haven't changed in 37 years. Still, through all of the apocalyptic noise, the notes of the anthem ring through (as well as a small portion of "Taps") and true. A week after Woodstock, Hendrix was invited to the Dick Cavett talk-show. It got to the question-and-answer portion, and a tired and (probably) stoned Hendrix settled into his chair. A little while into the interview, Cavett asked Jimi, in his Ivy League smarmy-but-sincere way, if Hendrix had heard from any U.S. veterans and members of his old platoon (Hendrix had served as a paratrooper in the early 60s) about his "unorthodox" playing of the national anthem.
"Well they made us sing it in school and stuff..and I'm an American.....unorthodox...I don't know, I thought it was beautiful myself...but then there you go..." Exactly--take it away, Jimi...
01 July 2006
Israel Regardie And The Mystic Path
7 Tochtli 1 Ozomahtli 5 Cuauhtli
I've been reading The Tree Of Life by Israel Regardie over the past few months. Regardie was closely involved with the famous magician/philosopher Aleister Crowley. For a few years in the late 1920s and '30s, Regardie was invited by Crowley to be his secretary. Crowley insisted that Regardie not pursue magickal studies while in his employ, but his advice was ignored.
Financial problems forced Crowley to part company with Regardie in 1931. A year later, Regardie had published A Garden Of Pomegranates, a study of the Qabalah (and not the watered-down version favoured by celebrities at the moment).
The same year he published "The Tree Of Life", an overview of Theurgy and magickal practice--from yoga to various invocations to use during rituals. He dedicated both books to Crowley, but was put out when A.C. sent him a caustic letter in regard to "The Tree..." and the two were at odds for a long time after. Regardie was also pilloried by "secret magical societies" for publishing their techniques, but he felt that these processes would die out--unless introduced to new seekers.
The chapters are arranged by subject, but not as a "history" of magic, rather as an introduction to topics which are the mainstays of Theurgy--like Qabalah, magickal tools and astral projection. These seem excellent to me, as a novice wishing to have a basic knowledge of these subjects. Regardie does not talk you through any rituals, however, only pointing out certain aspects. The prose can be quite flowery at times, but recall that this was published in the early 30s--and that was the vernacular of the era. Two Golden Dawn (the magick society to which Crowley and Regardie both belonged) adepts, Chic and Sandra Cicero, have added annotations at the end of each chapter--which clarify terms and ideas that my be elusive to the reader. There are also illustrations throughout the book, many from old alchemical texts, which will seem confusing--until you match them up with Regardie's writing.
I recommend "The Tree Of Life" to those wanting to investigate magick, without the "occult" trappings--and without the "stage magic" aspect of illusionists. I would also recommend reading this before exploring Regardie's Complete Book Of The Golden Dawn, which does outline various rituals in full.
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