ein gwyl yn Cymru !

We set off on Friday 16th May at about 9.30 and drove from Oxford, via Gloucestershire to Ross on Wye. We made good time so made a quick detour to the Weston's Cider Farm. Unfortunately they've stopped making the Cider with Ginger (my favourite drink ever) so I got a case of Oak Conditioned Medium Dry Cider instead. I also picked up a bottle of Premium Cider for a work colleague, who will only be allowed it once he says Please and Thank You. We crammed the cider into the already full car and set off again, past Symonds Yatt (we resisted the urge to go and say Hello to Barry - the weird owner of a cottage we stayed in a few years ago), via Monmouth and then followed Singing Bear's directions to Pontywaun. We arrived there around 2pm so decided to go on the Forest Drive SB had recommended. Even though it was starting to drizzle and get a bit misty it was spectacular. The drive took us to the top of the Forest and then down again, with a few stops at parking places to look at the wooden carvings, totem poles and views. Well worth £3. When we'd finished we took a brief walk around the bottom of the Forest, picked up a postcard for SB (for ironic purposes) and then checked into the B&B. After we'd settled in there we decided to take a walk around the village, but by then it was raining so hard we were getting drenched through our waterproofs so we found a pub, had a couple of drinks and a nice dinner, and then went back to the B&B to crash for the night.


The next day, after a huge breakfast provided by the very friendly B&B owner, we set off for Tenby. We thought about a quick detour to a castle recommended by a work colleague (Llantstephan) but by the time we drove past the turning I was getting a bit tired and it was raining hard so we decided to go straight to Tenby. Once we'd arrived, the rain had stopped so we had a wander round for a bit and then decided to find a B&B for the night. The ones on the seafront were too expensive so we went down a side road and found a lovely, clean place with friendly owners. We checked in and then went out again to explore. After another wander round the shops and beach we went to a pub to catch the last 15 minutes of the FA cup final. We supported Cardiff who unfortunately lost. After a drink we got take away Fish and Chips (I can't remember the last time I did that), had another drink and then a long walk along the beach. Then back to the B&B to crash out again for the night.



The next morning, after another quick walk (for me) along the beach we had another big breakfast and then set off again. We drove across the countryside to Cardigan - a lovely drive with spectacular views again. When we got to Cardigan we spent an hour looking around the town but as it was Sunday a lot of places were closed. We set off again and spent the next hour or two driving up the coast road to Aberystwyth. I think this was one of the most stunning drives of the whole trip with views of the coast from the road we were driving along for most of the way. We arrived in Aberystwyth and repeated the process of wandering round, finding a B&B and then more wandering round until dinner. This time we had dinner in an Inn on the pier and watched as dumb and dumber in the kitchen attempted to make Pizzas. Hilarious.



Monday morning we set off for Caernarfon. Again a stunning drive, this time through the Snowdonia mountains. It was a bit scary at times but the roads were ok and I went slowly (apologies to the huge line of cars stuck behind me !). We stopped in Portmeirion, set of the 60's tv show The Prisoner on the way. It cost £7 each to get in but it was well worth it. The village was lovely, picturesque, and exactly as you remember it from the tv series. We walked around a bit, spent far too much money in the shops (T-shirt, Celtic Vodka, Chutney, Welsh Liquor), saw all the famous spots and then got lunch from one of the cafe's (again - expensive). We then set off for Caernarfon, which was only about half an hours drive away. We located our cottage that we'd booked and then headed into the centre of town to look around and do some grocery shopping. When that we done we checked into the cottage (the caretaker was a very weird lady - we really don't have much luck with these people!), unpacked, and then went for a short walk around the immediate vicinity. Apart from an Indian over the road there wasn't too much about - which suited us just fine. We had an early night as we needed all our energy for the next day - the assault on Snowdon.

Tuesday morning we got up early and set off for Llanberis, which is a little village at the foot of Snowdon. We parked the car, found the mountain path and set off. The very first bit is up a steep road and that bit nearly made me turn back straight away but we continued, and the views as we kept walking were stunning. It was a nice day, sunny and cloudy, so we walked in just our t-shirts at first, then as we got further up had to put our hoodies on as well. The first hour was quite easy, then it started getting a bit steeper and harder. At one point the train went almost directly past us, full of people smiling and waving at us. Hmmmm. We eventually got to the half way point, where there was a little cafe. We sat outside it for a few minutes and drank some water. Then we set off again. This time it was much steeper and the path was really rough - we got about another quarter of the way up and then decided to give up and turn back. Going down was ok at first, but after a while it started to get to our legs. When the train went past us again I commented "If anyone smiles and waves at us this time I'm picking up the nearest rock and throwing it at them". Not that I would have had the energy by then !. We stopped after about half an hour and ate some lunch, which seemed to give us a boost and then set off again. By the time we got to the bottom my legs felt like jelly and I could barely walk - but we were very pleased with what we'd achieved. One day soon we hope to go back and try again. When we got to the bottom we picked up the car and drove back to the cottage. We had a short drive around the village and then crashed out for the night.

On Wednesday we went to Bangor - a lovely student town approx 15 miles away. We toured the shops and I left Sean in Cob Records while I looked round some more. An hour (and £80+) later he emerged from the record shop and we had a look around the small Cathedral, then a walk across the Victorian Pier. I will own up to the fact that I only put 2p in the Pier's honesty box and I owe them 48p if we're ever in that area again. The pier was nice, and had good views of the Menai bridge and the mountains. By this time we were feeling the after effects of the mountain climb so we headed back into Bangor and got lunch from Subway. After that we headed about a mile outside Bangor to Penrhyn Castle. It was the biggest place I've ever seen in my life ! It was still intact with all the furniture etc, and we even got to tour the Servants quarters (one of their smaller rooms was bigger than our entire house). We overheard a National Trust guide saying to someone that when the castle had been in use (late 19th or early 20th Century) it was owned by a family who only visited twice a year - what a waste !. After we'd seen the castle we had a walk around the garden, which was very nice. There were about 3 little ponds absolutely packed with tadpoles, and an intriguing Bog garden. Still feeling very warn out, we headed back to the cottage after we'd seen all we wanted.

On Thursday we visited the Lleyn peninsula. We stopped on Pwheli first, not much to see there but we had a nice walk around a Nature Reserve and got some Beer and Wine from a local shop. We then attempted to find a National Trust place called Plas-Yn-Rhiw. It didn't look too far on the map but it took as an hour to get there, mainly due to the fact it wasn't sign posted and also the fact that we took the wrong road a few times. At least we had a nice drive around the Peninsula. Abersoch looked nice as we drove through. We eventually found the NT place and it was well worth it. It was a smallish house donated to the trust by 3 sisters who had restored it. It had been left exactly as they had lived and was fascinating. The smallish garden was nice too. By then it was just starting to rain, and we set off in the car again. We'd planned to stop somewhere else on the way home but by then it was raining too hard so we just headed back to the cottage. Note: There was a hell of a lot of roadworks going on in North Wales - is that usual ? The rain had eased a bit when we got back so we went for a shortish walk and then started packing for the beginning of the return home the next day. That night we watched our last episode of Pobol y Cwm, a Welsh soap opera all in Welsh. By this time we'd become addicted to it, and had hoped we'd be able to pick the Welsh channel up on our Freeview when we returned home but unfortunately not.

On Friday morning we packed the car up and had a quick stop in Caernarfon before we set off again. We got some sweets for our work colleagues and some Welsh T-shirts for ourselves. We also got a Welsh-English dictionary and plan to teach ourselves Welsh. By this time we'd picked up quite a few words: Araf (Slow) Arafwych Nawr (Reduce Speed Now) Heddlu (Police) and Siop (Shop) being the main ones. We left Caernarfon around 11am and drove from there to Ludlow - a 4 hour drive. It was very nice, through the mountains, through the last of the Welsh Countryside and then into Shropshire. We'd spent a couple of hours in Ludlow last year on our way home and as it wasn't enough, so we'd decided to use it as an overnight stop this year. We checked into an Inn for the night and had a walk around Ludlow town and along the river. Ludlow has a very nice Hippie type shop called "Kaboodle" and we got a Beatles mug and a Gargoyle for the garden from there. We also found a very nice cafe to eat in that night - The Feathers Bar/Cafe. I had a refreshing (after all the rubbish I'd eaten that week) Thai Curry and Sean had Sole - and he really shocked me by eating the Capers that came with it. Unheard of !

The next morning, after our last big Breakfast for a long long time, we had another little wander around the shops, and the Market and then set off for home. It was a relatively short trip and by 12.30pm we were home. After that it was the usual stuff, unpack, do the washing, go grocery shopping etc.

It was a fantastic holiday, really relaxing and at the same time energising, and I've now got North Wales on my list of places to move to.

Off To Wales!

15 Kupris - Year 87 p.s.U.

Pixie and I will be off to the Welsh countryside for a week starting tomorrow. We'll be staying near Cardiff for the first night, then trekking up the coast towards Caernarvon. I've been told I can go here if I walk up here--oof, we'll have to see...that's gonna be a hike! It promises to be a great holiday, even if the weather's not ideal for late May.

I'll post a little something when we're back (maybe with some pics as well). I've started on the second episode of the podcast and will finish and post it after we've returned. Thanks to all who listened and left comments over at My Podcast. See ya when we see ya!

The Kaleidophonic Stroboscope Switches On!

5 Iyyar - Year 5768

Certain critters over the years have suggested I present a radio show. I'll admit that I was pretty lazy most of the time and never really got it together. I did audition at the Connecticut School Of Broadcsting...oh, about ten years ago now. I passed the audition, but the tuition fees were (are?) steep and at the time I couldn't afford to take out another loan to pay them. The coolest radio station in Conn. at that time was (and probably still is..) WWUH, the University Of Hartford's campus outlet. All of their time slots were filled and so I didn't have a chance there either.

A WWUH program that I "discovered" back in 1990, while hanging out with my friend Dave M., was The Greatest Show From Earth. T.G.S.F.E. features psychedelic rock, progressive rock, ambient and space music and is still going today. I discovered so many great bands and artists through that show, such as Gong, Fairport Convention and The Orb, to name just a few. It was the first radio show that I really listened to with any kind of devotion (O.K., besides Dr. Demento in the mid-80s and er..The American Top 40 (hosted by "Shaggy" himself, Casey Kasem) in '83/'84). I was a regular listener for nearly ten years, but then as I had collected most of the albums and bands they featured, I started tuning in only every once in a while. The set-up and style of T.G.S.F.E. had a big influence on me and I thought that if I ever was able to host a program, I would like to do something similar.

Another, more recent program that I regularly check out is Stuart Maconie's Freak Zone. T.F.Z. started up on BBC 6Music a few years ago and also features a lot of psychedelic and prog-rock, as well as esoteric electronic stuff, British folk-rock and some jazz and world music. It's quite an excellent show and most of the time I think "Right on!" when ol' Stu plays a track I really like. A must-listen if you're into an eclectic muso-mix.

Sooooo...I finally got round to at least attempting to get a program going, with encouragement from a couple of different sources (Pixie being one). I wrote up a proposal and e-mailed it to a few local stations (even Fox FM, but I sent it there for a laugh really). I did get a couple of replies and both asked for a demo. Oop--I admit I was a bit under-prepared. I cobbled a demo together over the past two weeks, using Audacity and a mic that was lent to me (cheers, Baxter!). I'm trying to upload it to My Podcast as well--so anyone who wants to check it out, can do. I'm having problems with My Podcast's upload process at the moment--but I'll post a link to the episode as soon as it's ready.

(UPDATE: I finally was able to upload the mp3 file to "My Podcast" - you can check out the episode here)

The track list for the first hour is:

Intro.

The Beatles - Strawberry Fields Forever (take 4 - recorded late 1966)

Schicke, Fuhrs & Frohling - Sundrops (1976)

Coil - Slur (1987)

Boards Of Canada - In A Beautiful Place Out In The Country (2000)

Caravan - Waterloo Lily (1972)

Klaus Schulze - Some Velvet Phasing (1974)

Jefferson Airplane - Fat Angel (live 1968 - released 1969)

Danielle Dax - Numb Companions (1983)

The Incredible String Band - The Half-Remarkable Question (1968)

Wire - I Feel Mysterious Today (1978)

You also get my dulcet tones in-between some of the tracks, as an added bonus! Enjoy!

The Great Bike Ride In The Sky

Setting Orange, Discord 47, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3174

It was announced earlier today that Albert Hofmann, who first synthesized LSD-25 in 1943, has passed away at his home in Switzerland. It seems fitting that he left the planet fairly close to the celebration of "Bike Day" (named for April 19, 1943--the first recorded acid trip in history. Hofmann ingested 250 mg of LSD and when the drug began to affect him, he left the Sandoz laboratory where he worked and pedalled his bike home, experiencing the peak effects on the way).

I posted in January, on Hofmann's 102nd birthday. It seemed amazing then and still seems incredible. He out-lived a lot of the politicians who helped to outlaw his discovery...and even a lot of it's early advocates. His impact on "the 60s" remains undeniable, though he was dismayed with a lot of the rampant experimentalism with LSD. I suspect he was just as woeful, if not horrified, by governement "intelligence" agencies--especially the C.I.A., trying to use the drug as a truth serum, or worse yet, as a mind-control device. Luckily, acid seems to affect individuals in a different way with every dose--so those programs were cancelled eventually. The biggest side effect was a lot of 'psychedelic spooks' running around Langley, dreaming up wacky schemes for the spy game--most of which were (hopefully) never funded. Unfortunately, on the other end of the cultural spectrum, but with a chillingly similar aim--Charles Manson reportedly used LSD and other psychedelics to cement his "family" bond together with the runaways who stayed with him, leading to the 1969 "Helter Skelter" murders.

The man himself recounts his own encounters with psychedelics (he also synthesized psilocybin, the psychoactive ingredient in hallucinogenic mushrooms) in his book, LSD, My Problem Child. It should be required reading for anyone interested in the study of conciousness and brain-change. He was a thoughtful, remarkable and enthusiastic supporter of research into the use of these compounds for therapeutic aims.

Hofmann was never able to see his discovery being scientifically researched as much as it had been in the 1950s and early 60s and that seems to be one of the great failings of the counter-culture. The mass panics of the late 60s and early 70s shut down any chance of legitimate research and as supplies of the pure ingredients needed to manufacture the compounds dwindled, underground chemists substituted less 'clean' substances in the street acid they made. This may have led to a lot more bad trips as time went on. Research has picked up in the past few years, but with MDMA and 'softer' psychedelics, LSD still seems to be taboo. Someday, scientists may pick up where Uncle Albert left off--'till then, we can still celebrate his contribution to The Tale Of The Tribe.

Rest in Peace, Dr. Hofmann!

A painting of Dr. Albert Hofmann by Alex Grey. Grey explains the painting:

'In my portrait of Dr. Hofmann, the eye of transcendental spirit in the upper left hand corner of the painting releases spiralic streams of primordial rainbow spheres of potential, one of which becomes a compassionate alchemical angel, whose tears drip down to anoint or 'create' the LSD molecule that the doctor holds in his hands, and a demon, here identified with Nazi power tugs or pushes at it. LSD opens a visionary gateway to the heart, as shown by the spiral of fractally infinitizing eyes resembling the stripey eye-spheres of the molecule, swirling into the center of the chest. On St. Albert's shoulder blade is a portrait of Paracelsus, the Alchemist of Basel, 500 years ago, who is credited with founding modern Chemistry, yet his alchemical goal was to discover the Philosopher's Stone. Alchemy was the art and science of the transmutation of the elements, like turning lead into gold and the identification of the soul of the alchemist with the chemical transformations as a metaphor of their journey ti enlightenment. Modern Chemistry took the psyche and mystery out of the material weighed and measured world, reducing the world to a heap of atoms. LSD brought psyche back, front and center to the chemical material world. That is partly why I believe that LSD is the Philosopher's Stone, the discovery of which, also in the town of Basel, is the result of an alchemical process put in motion by the great Paracelsus. In the portrait, I painted a lot of LSD personalities and symbolism in the aura of Dr. Hofmann. Some of these people were Dr Hofmann's friends, like Aldous Huxley, Gordon Wasson, Maria Sabina and Richard Evans Schultes. Each of these people had a special connection to psychedelics. Huxley wrote fearlessly about the psychedelic experience in The Doors of Perception and Heaven and Hell, which also talks about Visionary states and works of art.'

Anniversary Weekend

9 Palotin - 135 De L'Ere Pataphysique

Pixie and I celebrated 4 years of marriage this past weekend. We usually have a day out, so we booked Friday off. This year, we decided to visit Coughton Court, a manor house located in Warwickshire. The family who owned the house, the Throckmortons, had links to the infamous Gunpowder Plot in 1605. The sky was a bit overcast, but the drive was pleasant enough. Coughton Court is maintained by the National Trust now, but we had borrowed Pixie's parents' membership cards and avoided the entrance fee.

The house has all the features of many stately English homes: the myriad oil portraits, ornate woodwork, antique furnishings and amazing views of the surrounding countryside. As mentioned, the most interesting feature of Coughton is it's part in the Gunpowder Plot. I didn't know much about the plot, other than the name of Guy Fawkes and that there was an attempt to destroy Parliament. I somehow had pictured the plotters as an anarchist bunch, almost proto-Weathermen. Erm..nope, turns out they were a group of Catholics plotting to destroy Parliament and restore a Catholic monarch to the throne. The plan was discovered and the participants were chased over the countryside and after a stand-off (and an unfortunate accident, where some gunpowder exploded, while being dried near a fire and seriously wounded three of the group), ended in a gun battle and some of the plotters killed and others captured and executed. I suppose it shows that sombunall of the radicals of the 1960s failed to learn the lessons of earlier attempts at subversive violence.

After lunch in the car park, we had a quick walk around the grounds. Most of the gardens were closed, due to the flooding of last summer, but we checked out what we could. We were entertained by a couple of ducklings in a small pond--veering away from their parents, then 'motor-boating' it through the water back to them. We checked out the gift shop and the plant nursery--then left the Court.

Pixie suggested we stop in Stratford-upon-Avon on the way home. I hadn't there in nearly ten years, so I thought it was a good idea. We found a car park on the edge of the town centre and had a walk around. It looks pretty much the same as it had when I had been there last--especially the bit around Shakespeare's birthplace. They may have spruced up the museum entrance, I can't remember what it looked like. That part of Stratford is very tourist-y, with gift shops lining the streets and everything with a Bard-derived name. In another part of the town centre, market stalls were set up--with flowers, fruit & veg, picture frames and other wares. I was hoping for a CD or vinyl stall, but no luck. There was a musical instrument shop just off the square and I got to have a look round in there. The guitars were nice, but pricey. I noodled a bit on a digital keyboard that had an 'electric piano' setting. It didn't quite have that classic Fender Rhodes tone, but it seemed alright to me. We explored a few more shops (including a head shop and a rock T-shirt place) and then decided to leave before the rush-hour traffic formed.

Saturday (the 26th) was our actual anniversary day - so the family gathered at the local Indian restaurant in the evening for a meal. The food is delicious there and the service is excellent--the waiters seem attentive and friendly. It was sort-of a dual anniversary/birthday happening, as Pixie's mother's birthday was a couple of weeks ago and we didn't really do anything on the day. I also had a pint of Cobra beer with my food, which I do enjoy a lot. The evening wound down, we all split the bill and found our way back home. Pixie and I certainly enjoyed our long weekend--thanks to all who helped us celebrate!

We Done Got Tagged!

12.19.15.4.9 - 9 Muluk - 12 Pohp (G8)

Singing Bear tagged Pixie and I with one of those blog-meme games. You know, the kind where you answer questions about yourself. The rules on this one seem pretty simple--answer the questions, then pass the meme along (or "tag" bloggers that you know or associate with). Bear appears to have removed his meme post--that's O.K., though, I'll still play along...


Here's mine (Pixie can do her own, if she wants)...

Q. What were you doing 10 years ago?

A. Working in an architecture firm in Hartford, Conn.--I was essentially an office lackey/courier. It was the best paying job I'd ever had, up to that point, and I was still being paid peanuts. I lived in a pretty sweet, spacious apartment in Manchester, Conn, that I shared with two of my sisters and a friend/colleague that I knew from my part-time job (Borders Books & Music in Manchester). I worked about 60 hours a week and would listen to music, read or watch the toob in my spare time (which I still do, especially the music bit). I would also occasionally smoke marijuana and listen to my favorite psychedelic records. I was nearly 28 and ten years out of high school--this seemed to have some significance at the time. Noodling on my Fender Strat (the white 'Jimi-Hendrix-at-Woodstock' model--though I added some Celtic designs to the body and sprayed polyurethane on them, so now the front has more of an amber colour) and practising the one scale on the sitar I was learning were pastimes, too. Sometimes, I'd venture out to a bar on weekend nights and have a couple of beers while people-watching (this was especially fun at some of the white-trash bars around Conn.)

Q. Name 5 snacks you enjoy:

A. Cheese & Onion Pringles, Dark chocolate Kit-Kats, Monkey nuts (peanuts, for the Yanks), Pistachios, Jaffa Cakes

Q. Things I would do if I were a billionaire:

A. Give some money away to people & causes that I choose, buy every record/CD & book that I want, live in a home large enough for my book and music collections, travel (I've always wanted to visit India, Spain, Italy & Morrocco), build a home recording studio, take time in the day to meditate properly.

Q. Five jobs that I have had:

A. Record store clerk (in a few different shops), Courier/Draftsman/Lackey at an architecture firm, Warehouse worker (temporary), Porter at a university (temporary), Heating/Plumbing sales associate at a famous department store (and no, I never asked any female customers if I could 'lay any pipe')

Q. Three bad habits:

A. Chewing my fingernails, 'Spacing out' while people are talking to me, Pessimistic thinking

Q. Five places I have lived:

A. East Hartford, CT., Manchester, CT., Boston, Mass., Hartford, CT. (very briefly), Oxford, England.

Q. Five people I want to know more about:

A. R. Buckminster Fuller, Giordano Bruno, Vivian Stanshall, J.G. Ballard, Boudicca


The 5 people I tagged: Working on this bit

Daytrip to 'Lunnon'

9 Rabi'ath-Thani - Year 1429

I was asked a couple of months ago by the publishers I work for if I wanted to visit the London Book Fair for a day. I accepted, as I've never been to a large-scale book fair and I hadn't been to 'The Big Smoke' in nearly ten years. My scheduled day was yesterday, so off I went.

The fair is being held at Earl's Court, where it's been for a number of years now. Six colleagues of mine were attending as well and we all met up at the train station in Oxford. Our train was on-time (wa-hey!) and we boarded around 9 a.m. Tickets and a tube pass were provided by the company. The journey was fairly quick, with only a few stops (Didcot, Reading & Slough) and I barely had time to listen to a few tracks on the iPod when we arrived at Paddington Station.

I admit I was a little creeped out by the thought that it had only been a few days since the announcement about that hapless BBC kids' TV presenter. We made our way to the tube platform and headed for the Earl's Court stop. I had never been to the Court and so didn't know how massive it is--it just dominates the street it's located on. It took us a little while to find the Gate B entrance and we were let in through a side door. The small corridor leading to the main floor reminded me of countless back-stage concert documentaries and for a split-second, I fantasized that I was in a band ready to take the stage. The floor area is as big as you'd expect it to be and was chock-a-block with publisher's stands. I felt quite a bit under-dressed, showing up in a T-shirt and jeans, as the place was basically a sea of business skirts and suits--with a Blackberry seeming to be the other ubiquitous fashion accessory.

We found "our" stand, after a cursory search, and hung around for a bit. There wasn't much for us to do, as these things mostly seem to be for the reps, who meet with their customers and arrange deals on books. A couple of people from my office were there and were helping out, but I guess they got the memo about the dress code, 'cos they were wearing suits as well. Us new arrivals stashed our coats (it's still quite chilly in England, despite nearly a month having passed since the equinox) in a cloak room/storage space at the back of the stand. After that, our boss bought us coffees (mine was a peppermint herbal tea) and we met back at the stand. The stand was pretty large--the company had obviously splashed out a bit on it, with nice tables and chairs for the wheeling and dealing.

A group of us decided to have a look around and set off into the labyrinth of stands. We didn't have much time to really stop anywhere and investigate the titles, so the fair became a bit of a blur of books and people sitting at tables. One company had some ace holographic postcards and bookmarks on display, but weren't selling them, otherwise I would've bought a bookmark. A lot of publishers had freebies at their stands, and some were pretty nice. I didn't take that much-- a couple of pens, a coaster with a photo of London Bridge embossed on it and a mouse mat. One of my colleagues got a 'cordless mouse' at another stand. I went back later and asked for one, but the one I was given has a cable that connects into the USB port of the PC. It's also not very sturdy-looking either, but it was free. I haven't tried it out yet.

We all met up again at 12:30 p.m. and my boss announced it was time for lunch. We joined the queue at Pizza Express, but it was moving quite slowly. Of course, it was standard 'lunch-time' and a lot of other folks had the same idea we did. It was decided that we would leave the venue for lunch, so our group trooped off down Earl's Court Road. Zizzi's was picked as the spot for munching and I ordered a Quattro Formaggi pizza (yum-yum!). I hesitated to order a beer, since lunch was on the company--but I think it would've been alright. By the time we had returned to the Book Fair, there was only a short time before we had to head back to the tube station. I visited the Omnibus Press stand (they publish a lot of music/band-related titles) and tried to buy the display copy of The Saga Of Hawkwind, but again, no dice.

Back at Paddington, we found out that our train back to Oxford had been cancelled. Luckily, another one on the same route was about to leave and there were empty seats aboard. The train sped back toward Oxford and arrived at the station just past 3:30 p.m. I didn't have to be back at the office, so I walked into town for a spot of CD shopping. The new Van Der Graaf Generator record has been released, so I thought I would pick it up. Unfortunately, the only choice now is with one of the chain shops. The dreaded Borders had it for the lowest price (£10.99), so I bought the VdGG and Sigur Ros' newest EP, Hvarf-Heim, for Pixie (well, and me, too). Reviews of those to possibly appear soon--I've checked out most of the VdGG and it's O.K., though I think it would've been much better with David Jackson's involvement. Ah well, it's still good to have the boys around.

I've read a few articles decrying the Book Fair and the decline of British publishing. It may be true, for all I know about the ins and outs and shake-it-all-abouts of publishing. Sure, the Fair may be more about pomp and circumstance, marketing and back-slapping--but it made a pretty cool day out for me. I could just be easily amused, though.

He Was A Friend Of Ours - Herbie The Black Labrador 1995-2008

Month 3, Day 1 - Year Of The Rat (Lunar Calendar)

I first met him in August 2003, when I flew over to England to meet Pixie, after months of e-mails and phone conversations. We arrived at the house, opened the door and immediately this black shape jumped up on me to greet me. It was Herbie, the Black Labrador, whom I had heard a lot about. We became fast friends, he was so full of energy and personality.

Pixie adopted him in '95, when he was nine months old. They stayed at her folks' place and he went along on their holidays. There's a funny story of him sniffing aound in a rock pool, on a beach in Cornwall, having his nose pinched by a crab and leaping up a foot in the air. When Pixie bought the house we live in now--she had the stairs carpeted, so Herb wouldn't slip on them.

I visited again in October 2003 and again, Herb leaped up to greet me as if I'd never left. We bonded some more and I missed him nearly as much as I missed Pixie when I had to go back to the States. I still had my cat Sorcha at the time and it was a tough decision to leave her behind to move to England. Luckily, my brother agreed to take her in, until we could have her brought over. I flew over in February 2004 and because I couldn't legally work until Pixie and I were married--Herb and I became the "Daytime Dynamic Duo", watching crap morning TV together and hanging out for a couple of months. He would crash out on the bed or in the spare room, then race downstairs as soon as he heard me opening the bread wrapper to make lunch. His hearing was preternatural when it came to food--like most Labradors. He would also race downstairs, every day, in the late afternoon, almost precisely 20 minutes before Pixie arrived home from work--stake out his place on the sofa where he could see out of the window and wait patiently for her to walk through the door. He would run over to his bed, grab a toy (usually a plastic postie-man, his favourite) and meet her with his tail wagging ferociously and his quick panting sounded similar to a 40-a-day smoker's wheeze. We would take him to some fields nearby for his walk, come home and Pixie would conjure up that magical moment, his supper-time. He'd gulp down his food, then try to beg some of our dinner from us, the cheeky sod! Afterward, he would squeeze himself onto the sofa with us and we would watch the toob.

After Pixie and I married, I was able to work and so couldn't hang out with Herb as much. I temped over the summer, then got a job at the Oxford Borders. As with many retail gigs, the shifts aren't exactly 9-to-5 and my schedule was a bit erratic. I had a particularly nasty late shift that started at 2:30 in the afternoon and finished at 11 p.m. One of the only good things about it was that I could hang out with Herb in the morning and then when I returned at night, he would be there at the door with one of his toys. I would give him some fuss and then head upstairs to sleep. I had to work on Sundays and so I missed a lot of his weekend walks, which was a drag. After I left Borders, I got another job with one of their competitors. The late shifts weren't too late, thankfully, but I still had to work weekends. He was still greeting me at the door whenever I arrived home and it always cheered me up to see him. I was able to get a 9-to-5 gig a couple of years ago and started joining Pixie and Herb on his nightly walk and most of his weekend ones--it was so good to be able to spend more time with both of them. Last autumn, I started going on his morning walks as well, as I hadn't really done so before--not much anyway.

Herbie was 8 (in 'people years') when I met him--which is just over middle-age for most dogs. We knew that he only had a certain amount of time left, but we were being optimistic about how long he would have. My brother kept asking what was happening, because he wanted to know how long he would have to care for Sorcha (they had what can best be described as a 'fraught relationship'). I kept putting him off, saying I would let him know when it was O.K. Eventually, her behaviour deteriorated and he couldn't keep her anymore. Since Herb was still with us--I couldn't have her brought over here. The decision was made to put her to sleep and it was sad, but I couldn't find a suitable home for her and she and Herb in the same house would've been a nightmare.

Last summer, Herb turned 12 and we noticed that he started to have trouble negotiating the stairs. He also wasn't able to walk all the way to the fields like he used to, so Pixie started to drive him over there. We knew that it was the symptoms of old age, but he was still so lively that it didn't seem to bother him much. In the past six months, he started to have "accidents" in the house and we noticed his legs starting to bother him a bit. We had to buy a child-protective stair gate to prevent him going upstairs. Pixie and I were concerned, but again, he still seemed relatively O.K. for a dog his age. A couple of weeks ago, though, there was a morning where he wasn't active at all. He barely moved and when he finally managed to get up for his morning walk, he was shaky and his legs seemed to be very brittle. We quickly made an appointment with the vets and brought him over. The vet told us it was arthritis and nothing to do with a lump we had found a couple of months previously (that was just a fatty deposit, we were told). He gave Herb a shot of a cortisone-like drug and we returned him home.

The shot improved him almost immediately and he seemed to be back to his regular self again. The vet also gave us some pills for Herb and told us to give him one a night. Everything was great--until last Friday. He was really slow-moving and could barely handle a ten-minute walk at night. We were worried, but unsure of what to do for him. I thought maybe we should wait and see how he got on. Saturday showed his condition worsen. He wouldn't move at all and his walk lasted about five minutes. When he returned home, he wouldn't move again and when he tried to move, he would yelp in pain. I'd never seen him like that and it was horrible. Pixie phoned the emergency vets and we took him there in the late afternoon. The vet did her best to comfort us, but she did let us know that any 'patching up' would be temporary, because of his age. We had to make a decision--and after some very agonizing moments, made it. After the injection, I stayed with him and wept over his peaceful body.

You often forget, when you share a home with canine, feline and other critters, that their life span is much shorter than humans' and they get old and fragile. They're such a joy to have around, but eventually--they leave the planet. Herbie was here when I arrived and he's been a constant companion in my life for the past five years. He was a beautiful dog and he lived a full life. He had such presence and the house seems much emptier without him here. He was suffering though, and it would've been selfish to keep him around just so we wouldn't be without his presence. It was my first time losing someone very close to me and it's been really tough to accept. My grandfather passed away in 1993 and my uncle in 2004, but to be honest, I wasn't that close with either of them and while I felt a sense of loss--it wasn't as visceral as what I've been feeling. I missed Sorcha, too, but since I wasn't with her when she left, it didn't hit me quite as hard as Herb's passing. Perhaps I'm only now greiving for all of them, as well as Herb. Pixie is devastated too, even more so, since she knew him longer. Eventually, the pain will subside and we'll get used to him not being here, but we'll have our memories and we'll miss him for quite some time.

I haven't felt like playing any music in the past couple of days, but this morning I wanted to spin The Grateful Dead's American Beauty, specifically the song Box Of Rain. I thought it would be appropriate as a little tribute for Herbie. Phil Lesh wrote it for his father, who was dying around the time the album was being recorded. Good-bye, Herbie--we miss you and love you, buddy!


"A box of rain will ease the pain/and love will see you through..." --The Grateful Dead, 1970

April Arrives!

• The Court Jester
• The Fool (Dutch psychedelic art group) /Marijke Koger's site
• April Fool! Hey, did I sound like a cop, man? Why are you crying?
• Hoaxes With The Mostest
• The Walrus Was Paul?
• Wile E. Coyote
• And how are you tonight, Mr. Wilson?
• Fool's Gold
• Chain Of Fools

Living With War

10 March - Year 2008 (Julian Calendar)

I obtained a link to a blog written by an Iraqi citizen, Mohammed, who describes conditions in his hometown and the effects of the now 5-year illegal occupation. It's heartening to see that the spirit of the Iraqi people hasn't been completely broken, but at the same time depressing to realize how much of that country has been utterly devastated and how folks like Mohammed seem caught between the twin pincers of the occupation forces and terror organizations like al-Qaeda, who are fighting over stupid ideologies and, of course, money.

Enough of that, though....just read the blog, Last Of Iraqis.

(Thanks to There It Isn't for the link)

Happy Equinox, All!/Maybe Quarterly 15

2 Farvardin - Year 1387

Spring is sprung for another year, though the weather isn't very spring-like, at least in the UK. It's been all chill wind and warnings of snow round here. Pixie and I went for a walk earlier and the weather was alternating between sunny and overcast--with continuous gusty wind. Strange. Ah well, it's still a long weekend - what with the Bank Holiday and the whole Easter celebration (if you're an X-tian). I'm just glad to have a bit of time off of work.

The new Maybe Quarterly has just been published as well. I submitted the Teo Macero tribute that I had posted here (and at "Only Maybe") a few weeks ago. Bobby Campbell has once again come through with great cover art. I was going to submit a cover, but didn't get round to creating one in time. Maybe for the summer solstice issue. You can check out the written submissions here ...as always, a quality read. Enjoy your equinox!

Timewasting

While trawling for links for the Teo tribute post, I found another record review site. You know, the sites that are dedicated to just reviewing whole back catalogues of bands and artists, usually organized chronologically. The reviews are not too in-depth, but give the reader an overall view of the album (or rather, the reviewer's opinion on the album).

The one I've just recently found is called (imaginatively) Wilson & Alroy's Record Reviews, written by a couple of crit-types who seem refreshingly devoid of any Lester Bangs imitations and most other hipster cliches. There seem to be some gaping holes in their collections (no Pink Floyd in either the 60s or 70s?!! No electronic acts from the late 90s??!!), but they actually rate some prog-rock records as worthy of buying (despite slating early Genesis). I can spend a few hours (at least) at these sites, reading the reviews and seeing how they stack up against my own, as well as "popular critical/cultural" memes (you know, the ones that declare forever how great The Velvet Underground and Can were...yadda yadda).

Another site that I used to have linked to my first (now defunct) blog, 21st Century Schizoid Man, is the bit more imaginatively titled Cap'n Marvel's Rock Record Review Bonanza. If I remember correctly, "The Cap'n" is an American ex-pat in Russia, of all places. He may have moved back to the Yoo-Ess-Ayyy by now. He's got a good grasp of musical lingo and I get the idea he's a bonafide studio geek and I can relate to that. His 'Lester Bangs-isms' can become irritating after a while, but mosbunall of his opinions seem pretty valid to me (again, I heartily disagree with his assessment of Genesis' Wind & Wuthering and Van Der Graaf Generator's Pawn Hearts--but his slamming of Jethro Tull's 80s catalogue seems spot-on to me). Another one that'll kill a few hours. It appears as if The Cap'n hasn't posted anything since 2006, while striding through Can's back catalogue--maybe those acid-drenched Teutonic crazies caved his brain in...

You can also get academic with ol-skool crits like Robert Christgau, who elevated the rock record review to serious stature (perhaps a bit too serious at times) in the late 60s and early 70s, when the music itself swept all other genres aside and became the dominant form of recorded output by major (and indie) labels. Still, I'm not sure about the whole "Dean Of Crits" tag--that may be pushing the academic thing too far. There's no Lester Bangs site--you have to go and buy his books, but I did find this review from Bangs about The Shaggs' record. If that's not enough Bangs for yer buck, here's his review of Lou Reed's Metal Machine Music. Richard Meltzer doesn't have a site either--so it's off to Amazon you go. Those are just the 'Murican ones - you can check some more American and UK rock-crit stuff at Rock's Back Pages.

If that's not enough timewasting for you - here's a few more:

Mark Prindle's Record Review Page

Adrian's Album Reviews

Daniel Reviews... (one for Pixie, 'cos he reviews Ed Harcourt's albums)

If you're a muso-geek like myself, these sites can be very addictive..you've been warned...

Teo's Last Playback

31 Zeus - Year 87 p.s.U.

I only just found out yesterday, while listening to Stuart Maconie's Freak Zone, that famed record producer Teo Macero passed away on February 19th. Maconie played a track from Miles Davis' Sketches Of Spain album and noted that it was a "tribute of sorts" to Macero. That seemed to be an ominous comment, so I checked on-line and it does appear that Teo's gone.

He was born into a middle-class life in Glens Falls, New York and after a stint in the U.S. Navy, studied at the Julliard School in New York City. Macero met Charles Mingus in the early 1950s and co-founded the Jazz Composers Workshop. He recorded a few albums with Mingus and the J.C.W., then moved into production when he signed on as a Columbia Records staff member in 1957. As a kind of "house jazz producer", Macero handled duties on a number of "big" albums, the most famous being Dave Brubeck's Time Out (which contained the massive 'hit', Take Five).

Teo really hit his stride, of course, when he became Davis' regular producer through Miles' most creative and exploratory period, the mid-60s through the mid-70s. In that decade, Miles seemed to be one step (or maybe three steps) ahead of the rest of the jazz world and most of the rock/pop world as well. Records like In A Silent Way and Bitches Brew sounded literally like nothing else at the time, and it was Teo's contributions as much as Davis' and his proteges/sidemen's playing that made them such legendary pieces. When he first started working with Miles, Macero had the usual producer's role of setting the levels of the soundboard and mixing the session recordings. Occasionally, as on the "Sketches.." orchestral parts, he added textures and colouring to the music.

"In A Silent Way" was probably the first album where Macero sparked his own ingenious revolution. Miles had the band jam for long sessions and he wanted to include a lot of these parts on the LP. Teo reportedly refused, saying "I'll get fired and you'll get fired." He told Davis to leave the tapes with him and he would work on them. The way he worked on them was by cutting the tapes up and then splicing various sections together to form a new whole that was quite different from the original sessions. In a sense, Macero had used William S. Burroughs' "cut-up" style, only in an audio context, not a literary one. He had created what could be called "organic artifice", because the finished album sounds as if the band are playing the pieces in "real time"--not separate sessions spliced together with seamless edits. Still, for all of Teo's studio magic, "In A Silent Way" seems to have a linear quality--he would perfect his cut-ups on the next one, "Bitches Brew".

Miles assembled a top-notch band in August 1969, with many "big name" players (some, like John McLaughlin, weren't well-known but would go on to become veritable super-stars in the jazz scene) and again they jammed. This time, though, a strange "fusion" of James Brown funk, Sly & The Family Stone psychedelic R&B, Jimi Hendrix cosmic blues and some modal jazz emerged. Again, Teo worked with the session tapes, splicing and stitching until another record was created--a double album, no less. "Bitches Brew" is subtitled "Directions In Music" and it lives up to the hype, to my ears anyway. Some of the music seems far more sinister and the individual instruments become lost in a whirlwind of sound. Pieces like Spanish Key and Pharaoh's Dance move in such non-linearity that it becomes difficult to believe it's the work of essentially the same set of people as "In A Silent Way". Miles and Macero raised the bar for both jazz and rock at the same time, quite a singular triumph. Jazz purists didn't agree, however, and Davis received the same reactions as Bob Dylan had when he 'went electric' at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965. Some leftovers from the "Brew" sessions would eventually be released as Big Fun in 1974.

Teo didn't stop there and for the next Miles Davis album, after the 1971 jazz-rock tour-de-force A Tribute To Jack Johnson, decided to strip the groove down to it's essence. The legendary On The Corner seems to be largely made up of tape loops, blended together to form a kind of urban robotic funk. The 20-minute suite that made up the entire first side of the LP features a static 4/4 beat, with the other instruments dropping in and out of the mix almost randomly: McLaughlin's swamp-skronk guitar, Colin Walcott's sitar drones, Michael Henderson's bopping bass, Davis' trumpet vamps and the keyboards all weave around each other in delirious patterns. I'm not even sure if this "was" jazz anymore (of course, many critics decided that it "wasn't"), but it seems like a mutant strain of the "Brew" formula. Given that there are so many loops running through the tracks, the music has surprising "space". The opening of Black Satin attests to this. Featuring a tabla beat, growling synth tones, sitar drones and whistling--every note is clear, yet they all combine in a strange segue before the actual track starts. The second side seems to be one big loop itself, with the "Black Satin" theme running through all of the tunes. "On The Corner" can be a daunting listen for the uninitiated, but it's impact on future funkateers and turntablists seems undeniable.

After that, a few more studio sessions in 1973 and '74 resulted in the 70s swansong Get Up With It double-set. The music returns to a "Bitches Brew" density and while some of it seems to have a small spark of innovation, much just sounds like Miles & Co. going through the motions. Davis kept up a punishing live schedule, playing ferociously with changing line-ups. Sometimes almost everyone on stage was equipped with a wah-wah pedal, including the keyboardists. The intensity of these shows can be heard on live records like Pangaea, Agharta & Dark Magus. Near the end of 1975, Miles was burned out from drug problems and other personal difficulties so he decided to take a long sabbatical--similar to rock icon John Lennon's "retirement", for the remainder of the decade. Teo continued producing other acts and Miles' proteges dominated mid-to-late 70s jazz in fusion bands like Return To Forever, Mahavishnu Orchestra and Weather Report.

Teo and Davis teamed up one last time, for the The Man With The Horn album, released in 1981 during Miles' "comeback" period. It's passable as a funky jazz record, but the rampant experimentalism of 1972 had been replaced with a somewhat more 'radio friendly' sound. Davis passed away in 1992, after recording another six or seven albums. His final studio record was Doo-Bop, a rather tepid hybrid of hip-hop turntablism and jazz. Now that Macero has gone, one of the most prolific artist/producer collaborations in recent history has completely finished.

The Teo Macero/William Burroughs connection may be tenuous. I don't know if Macero was influenced by Burroughs' writing--I think his cut-ups may have been more of a studio necessity than a bold experiment in sound, though that's what it turned out to become. There may be a slight connection in Bill Laswell. In 1998, an album called Panthalassa was released. "Panthalassa" was a 'remix' of fusion-era Miles by Laswell--utilising master tapes and some out-takes--essentially cut-ups of cut-ups. Laswell also worked with Burroughs on the Road To The Western Lands disc, which was a series of remixes of a song first recorded by Laswell's band Material. It's possible that Teo had a "non-simultaneous apprehension" of the cut-up process which yielded some of the most original music of the last 40 years.

Oh, So That's What They're Singing

23 Adar I - Year 5768

Some clever cats have gone and deciphered the lyrics to Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. Check this out! That guy was waaaaaay ahead of his time. (Thanks to L-Dopa for the link)

Seasons They Change

25 Vaisakha - Year 51 (Saka Era)

I received an e-mail from Singing Bear last night, telling me of his decision to bow out of "Blog Is Not..". He has been carefully ruminating on the topic for a few weeks. Ultimately, it is his choice to remain or not--and I stand by his choice.

He's had a rough couple of years and he has intimated that he's concentrating on his own spiritual journey more than anything else at the moment. It seems correct to me, that he would spread his wings and fly the coop to explore his own path more deeply. We wish the best to him and will support him whenever possible.

Pixie and I got to know Bear at the Flaming Lips BBS back in 2003 and he has been a great friend to both of us since. He was on the team of our last collaborative muso-blog, Pond Of Tunes and readily joined up at "Blog Is Not.." when I fired it up in 2006. I always enjoy his posts, filled with his wit and musical crits and observations. We will certainly miss him here.

The good news is, that Bear has started up a solo blog, called There It Isn't. It will chronicle his current adventures and interests and it can be found here.

That pretty much leaves me, my lovelies..MUAH-HA-HA-HA (*rubbing my hands together, mad-scientist stylee*). This blog started as a four-person collab., but quickly whittled down to two as Pixie prefers "The Bear Pit" and commenting here and Aloicious seems to have gone permanently a.w.o.l.--I kinda like having him as a 'silent partner', though, so we've kept his spot. The Bear and I kept the team spirit alive, but I suppose it could only last for so long...the only constant is change. I'll be back soon with more weirdness and nuggets from my noggin...check Bear's blog out!

The Doctor "Is" Out....

Sweetmorn, Chaos 51, Year of Our Lady of Discord 3174

I was visiting the Maybe Logic Academy forum today, as I hadn't been there in a few weeks. It was a bit of a "catch-up" session--but no-one was around while I was scoping out the threads.

In one of the forums, Borsky (a MLA regular), had posted about Dr. Christopher S. Hyatt passing away. Apparently, he left the planet on the 9th of February, after a protracted battle with cancer. He was 64 years old. The news came as a shock to me, so I checked his site and, indeed, it seems true. Hyatt, born Alan Miller, kept a lot of the detail of his life secret--or at least clouded enough to not reveal very much. He did reveal some of the facts in a few of his books, namely Undoing Yourself and Rebels and Devils. His teenage years seemed quite rough and he left school at 17, allegedly expelled for "drinking and dealing". He joined the U.S. Navy, finished his stint, got married and quickly divorced, after fathering a son.

He attended college--swapping an accounting major for psychology. Hyatt also began studying the occult techniques of Aleister Crowley and subsequently met Israel Regardie, Crowley's former secertary and member of the Golden Dawn, in the early 1970s. Regardie taught Hyatt the therapy of Wilhelm Reich and suggested that he use it before embarking on a serious magickal venture. After that...well, Hyatt joined up with a few occult organisations, including Crowley's O.T.O. (the Ordo Templis Orientis) and a revived Golden Dawn. He developed a system of "energized meditation", based on various disciplines of yoga and exercise, realised a philosophy of extreme individualism, married and divorced a few more times.

Hyatt was instrumental in the formation of New Falcon Publications, an indie imprint dedicated to occult and speculative titles. He himself contributed several books, as well as published some by Regardie, reprints by Crowley and providing a starting point for authors like Antero Alli, Camden Benares and Lon Milo DuQuette. More importantly, for my own education and edification, New Falcon became the near-exclusive publisher for Robert Anton Wilson, releasing almost all of his books in the 80s, 90s and 'Noughties'--including his final title, E-Mail To The Universe. In the past few years, Hyatt founded the "Extreme Individual Institute" and published 6 titles connected with it, while also holding seminars. I never attended any, as they were quite pricey and I would've had to fly out to Arizona, where he was based.

I did do the exercises in "Undoing Yourself..." for about a year and a half and found them very productive. I suspect they would have been more so, but I was only practising them once a week, instead of the three times suggested in the book. I only stopped because I decided to take up Hatha yoga and to do both three times a week would've been too much. I may start with Hyatt's energized meditation techniques again, when I've become more adept at yoga. I bought the Energized Hypnosis book, but I haven't read it yet. I enjoyed "Rebels And Devils", a collection of essays and artwork regarding the 'psychology of liberation' by Hyatt, Wilson and many others. I've also read The Psychopath's Bible, one of his more infamous titles. It makes for startling reading and does put one into an interesting head-space for a bit, but I'm not so sure about putting any of the techniques presented into action.

Hyatt did seem to have the ability to polarize opinions of him--some thought of him as a teacher and genius, others as a money-grubbing charlatan. As always with Aristotlean, "either/or" debates--the 'truth' may lie somewhere in between. For me, Hyatt was one of the lesser lights in the 'new era' counter-culture (with R.A.W. being my main influence)--but he has had an impact on myself and many others and for that I am grateful. R.I.P. Dr. Christopher S. Hyatt/Alan Miller--thank you for your words.

As a small post-script--there's a group who are dedicated to some of Hyatt's principles, though they are not actively affiliated with him. The group is called The Luciferian Society and their homepage is located here. I had a bit of a wander around and it seems like an interesting place. Be careful, though, they don't mess around with noobs--although they seem somewhat friendlier than the folks at the Principia Discordia forum. See you soon.

New Blog

Whilst continuing my commitment to Blog Is Not A Four-Letter Word, I have decided to start a new blog that will probably be just for a little 'creative writing' I'm trying to do.

You will find me at http://thereitisnt.blogspot.com/

I will add other features like links and further info when I get the time.

Constructive comments, observations and criticism always welcome.

Please come and have a look when you get the chance.

4 Years in Engerland...

13 Zeus - Year 87 (Poundian Calendar)

Seems really tough to believe...four years ago I boarded a plane at Logan Airport in Boston and roughly six hours later, landed at Heathrow Airport near London and never went back. Probably the bravest thing I've ever done so far in my fairly short lifetime.

Luckily, my Dearest was at the airport waiting for me and we embraced like we had when we first physically met just six months previously. I had my fiance visa and I was legal to stay in Britain...for six months anyway. We had to get married within that time, or I would have to leave again. We did and I'm still in Britain (with a 'permanent leave to remain' visa now--how's that phrase for a headscratcher?).

I had planned to escape from my birthplace, Connecticut, for quite some time. I grew up in East Hartford--a factory town just across the Connecticut river from the capital city. I suppose it was a nice town when I was very young--summer days seemed endless and the winters, though very cold, always brought plenty of snow for forts and sledding (or 'sledging' as it's known in Blighty). It was far from idyllic, but it was all I knew and so I tried to make the best of it. As I grew older, though, the town seemed to lose a lot of it's charm--this wasn't helped by the main employer, United Technologies/Pratt & Whitney, reducing it's workforce by a third. They would reduce it even further later on, effectively decimating the town's population as a lot of families moved away to go 'where the work is'. It's possible it wasn't that bad--as some of you may be picturing a Grapes Of Wrath scenario, but East Hartford just didn't seem the same.

My home situation occasionally became less than ideal as well--I won't go into detail, but I considered running away more than a few times. A couple of times I actually did, but only got to the next block before fear and the realisation that I didn't have any clue of what to do or where exactly to go, forced me to go back to the house to face my parents' jeering and the knowledge that I couldn't actually go through with it. In hindsight, I suppose that seems the wiser choice, as the horror stories of life on the streets abound and I probably would've ended up as just another statistic.

For a while in my teens, I planned to join the military and I figured that was as good as any plan to leave. I changed my mind, however, late in high-school and concentrated on college--preferably out of the country (the British Isles was my top choice). With my less-than-stellar academic record and non-existant portfolio (I was pursuing an architecture degree), I had no chance of getting accepted to Cork Technical College or a trade school in Dundee. I was accepted at Wentworth Institute of Technology in Boston and I decided to give it a shot. My father reluctantly agreed to pay for the first year only--but that was good enough for me at the time. Soon, I was ensconced in a cruddy studio apartment on Huntington Ave., with a room-mate from some small town in Massachusetts. For the first time in my life, though, I had some (relative) FREEDOM and it was such a liberating feeling. Whatever hardships I had to go through, at the very least I had no curfew, I could hang out with who I wanted and I didn't have to go to church on Sundays. That was a big deal to me then.

The money eventually ran out in my second year and I thought about staying on in Boston, trying to get a full-time job instead of going to school--but again, I wasn't sure where to stay and thought it best to journey back to the folks' place. All through my 20s, I would think of ways to get somewhere else. A couple of friends moved to Madison, Wisconsin and I briefly considered it, only the harsh winters put me off (one of those friends eventually moved back to Conn. himself). I thought about moving back to Boston, after finishing my studies for an associates degree and then remembered how expensive it can be. Another set of friends headed off to New York City and while that seemed exciting--the money factor caused me to hesitate (I also thought N.Y.C. might be a bit too crazy for me and I like trees too much to live there for any length of time). I really wanted to go to California, but I couldn't find anyone else to go with and found I was too cautious to sell all of my stuff, pack up the car and point it toward the West Coast. I at least managed to get out of my parents' house by moving into a series of apartments in East Hartford and Manchester with various siblings, friends and work colleagues.

I visited Ireland and England in the late 90s and rekindled my interest in possibly moving to either place, but the chances seemed very very slim. When the 'Noughties' rolled around--I found myself back in E.H. and back at the folks' house. Most of my friends had moved away or had got married and started families...even most of my siblings had left. I had that "down-and-out" feeling--the sensation of being stuck in a massive rut. I revived the California plan and was seriously thinking of putting it into action--when Pixie and I met (in virtuality).

Even then, I just thought "Oh, it'll be nice to have a friend in England, so I can go over and visit more often." Well, things worked out quite differently, I'm very happy to report and so I left to be with her 4 years ago. I thank her for choosing to remain in England--so I could get out of the U.S., though I would've stayed in Conn. if she had wanted to leave the UK. Of course, I would have wanted to leave Conn. eventually anyway--and hopefully she would agree to that.

So here I am - enjoying life in Britain. It was a bit of a learning curve and still is, in some ways, even for a self-confessed Anglophile like myself. That whole "separated by a common language" cliche actually does come into play at times. Perhaps I'll discuss that in another post...

Ashes to ashes, bland & clunky, looks like The Guv's just a flunkie...

2nd Day, First Month - Year 97 (Year Of The Rat)

WARNING: Spoiler alert--the review gives away a lot of the plot, if you haven't seen the episode.

Pixie and I caught the first episode of the 'sequel' series to the often great Life On Mars, called Ashes To Ashes (see what they did there, another Bowie song title--I wonder if they'll make a 90s version next and call it I'm Afraid Of Americans...).

The verdict? For me, just...meh. The story this time around revolves around Alex Drake (played by a very posh Keeley Hawes), a police psychologist who was involved with Sam Tyler (the main protagonist of "Life.."), as his shrink. She's memorised Tyler's case details and in the opening scene, is going over it with her far-too-precocious-to-believe daughter, Molly, while on the morning school run. The usual police "situation" happens and Alex is ordered to the scene. A gunman has a hostage and, of course, a stand-off has ensued. Drake is supposed to talk the man down--but as she approaches him, he remarks that he knew her parents. His name is Arthur Leyton and he becomes central to the plot. In another moment of belief suspension, Molly runs out of the crowd as Leyton takes her mother hostage. Leyton grabs the girl instead and Drake pursues them both. She finds her daughter unharmed and they call it a day. I guess Molly earns a "get-out-of-school-free" card for being accosted by a crazed gunman. She takes off with some guy, I didn't catch who that is--husband, maybe?

Alex gets into her car--and who should be there? Yep, Leyton. The ol' hiding-in-the-back-seat ploy (I often wonder why people in cop shows never lock their car doors). She drives to the usual 'secluded spot', he frog-marches her somewhere else...there's a scuffle, the gun fires...and she wakes up in 1981. That's what we're meant to think anyway--she's surrounded by people with daft haircuts and goofy clothes. She makes an escape, only to be held at gunpoint by another lunatic. Luckily, this time--Gene "The Guv" Hunt (Philip Glenister) appears, cowboy boots and all..with a couple of his old cronies from Manchester and they save the day. It seems he's transferred down to The Big Smoke to battle the rising drug tide...or something. They all head down to the station house and Alex realises who they are. She's then convinced that she's tapped into Tyler's fantasy world and tries to figure out how to break out of it. Through the guy they've arrested, she finds out that Leyton is involved (small fantasy world...) and surmises that the key to get herself out of '81 is to arrest him.

The rest of the episode involves The Guv and Drake and the rest of the crew tracking down the drug ring and Drake gunning for Leyton. Occasionally, there'll be weird moments where a guy dressed like Bowie-as-clown on the "Ashes To Ashes" single appears and chases her. The climactic sting operation/shoot-out sees The Guv calling himself "The A Team" (a not-so-sly reference to..well you know) and commandeering a speedboat and brandishing an Uzi. Over the top? Yep.

Overall, I don't think it worked as well as "Life..." It just seemed too self-referential--with Drake somehow knowing that she was she's in a world of her own creation following her being killed (or nearly killed). It lacked that Philip K. Dick-ian ambiguity that propelled Sam Tyler's search to find out what had actually happened to him and exactly why he seemed to be in 1973. The writers have obviously tried to up the eye-candy quotient this time around as well. No more dowdy PC Cartwright--Drake spends most of the episode wearing a silk red top, a red leather miniskirt and black stockings. The Guv is reduced to a near-cartoon--just firing off macho asides and waving a 44 Magnum around. The attempts to set up some kind of Spencer Tracy/Kate Hepburn friction between them seem forced. It's almost as if a 16-year-old was given the script-writing task--"Let's see, the bird will be dressed like a tart, that Guv geezer can say lots of dead cool stuff and some posh twat will be the baddie...and the long-haired bloke can also be the bad guy...oh yeah, can we put The Guv on a speedboat?"

I also thought the way they weaved the title song into the script seemed a bit ham-fisted. Leyton sings the "I'm happy, are you happy too" bit early on--and Drake sings it to herself later in the episode. The appearance of the clown also references the tune. I don't remember anyone humming the "Life On Mars" melody in either of it's two series. The only time the song appeared was in the final episode. It's almost like they're building the show around the song itself.

Ah well, I didn't like "Life on Mars" at first either - but I think "Ashes To Ashes" is going to have to pick up the pace in a big way to match it's predecessor.

The Other Side of The Mirror: Bob Dylan Live At The Newport Folk Festival 1963-1965

The Other Side of The Mirror DVD has been available for a few months now, so apologies for the lateness of this review. It is yet another artifact in the, seemingly, ever-increasing world of Dylan related archives: in recent months we have also had a mammoth three CD 'best of', a few more books to weigh the old shelves down and 'semi-legal' DVDs of TV performances. Even for the most die-hard of raving loony Boblings much of this stuff is entirely superfluous or, at least, not entirely necessary. The Other Side of The Mirror is, however, a different case altogether. Compiled by Murray Lerner from his seminal footage of Dylan performances at Newport, the DVD all too clearly exhibits Dylan's whirlwind development in two years from earnest 'folk-protest' Guthrie - worshipper to the coolest cat in the known universe, spouting surreal 'skippin' reels of rhyme' and shouldering an electric guitar. There's no narration: we are allowed to just watch Dylan grow through three festivals. I swear he seems to morph physically as much as artistically, during this blindingly brief spell, when he truly was the most important singer on the planet.

Dylan in 1963 is all working shirt and big boots. His hair is pretty short and Pete Seeger really seems to approve. We see him singing at a small 'workshop', with various very trad. musicians sat behind him looking like they just stepped down from the hills. Bob gives a rare live performance of 'North Country Blues' and then we are transported to the main stage for the evening show. This is where 'King' Bob is first seen accompanied by 'Queen' Joan Baez. There is something that always makes me feel like throwing up every time I see early footage of these two together. With the knowledge we now have of how things panned out, it seems obvious that Dylan never really wanted Joanie around and the way she just seems to appear at his side looks creepy in the extreme. It must be conceded that Dylan happily used Baez to get his career off the ground but you can always nearly see him thinking 'You again! Just go away, woman!' as she caterwauls along to 'Blowin' In The Wind' or 'It Ain't Me Babe' (didn't she get it?). Baez also has one of those voices that always has to be louder than everyone else's, even when she's singing harmony. It's like listening to an ego inflating. She was utterly horrendous. Poor Joan must be either one of the most forgiving people of all time or a total sucker when you consider how many times she reappeared in Dylan's career. I fear the latter is the case.

For me, the most fascinating footage is from 1964. He's still strumming an acoustic, so the folkies still love him but the material is probably the most radical of all on the DVD. Lyrically, 'Mr. Tambourine Man' and 'Chimes of Freedom' were songs like no one had ever heard before. Guthrie had been replaced by Rimbaud. Dylan was also dressed noticably sharper in a very cool jacket, jeans and cuban heel boots. Still, the 'trads' were so dull they didn't mind at all because he was still 'acoustic'. They clearly weren't listening. Poor Bob still can't quite get away from Joanie, though. She's up on stage as he sings 'It Ain't Me Babe' and you can hear her say she doesn't know any of his new songs and it shows! Seems she never got the hint until she followed Bob to Britain in '65 and it was clear there was no way he was ever going to let her sing with him anymore. Life can be cruel. Dylan certainly could be cruel but he knew his art deserved better treatment than campfire singalongs.

By '65 Dylan's mind-set was million miles from that of the likes of Baez, Seeger and Lomax. He was just about to step into the vortex that wouldn't stop until he fell off his bike in '66: Dylan The Iconoclast was in town to stick it to the lot of them. He did sing some acoustic songs in the summer afternoon sun but we get to see some fans already beginning to moan that he's sold out to 'the man' and who needs him now? If only they'd had the wit to shout 'Judas!'. These sort of whingers have dogged Bob's career ever since. Good job he doesn't care. There's a nice bit where the electric band he has lined up for the evening show rehearse and the poor bloke from Peter, Paul and Mary (I know he's definitely NOT Mary), who seemed to always be trying to keep things together when mayhem took over at all these shows, begs them to shut up so he can test the mics. Dylan remains imperially aloof. It's like 'Who cares, man?' The evening 'show' of three electric songs that follows is the stuff of well trodden legend. For all those who now claim they didn't boo, the booing is all too clear. I suppose we don't really know what Dylan thought at the time but he happily went on to be booed all over the world after this! The performances we get of 'Maggie's Farm' and 'Like A Rolling Stone' are far from great musically but they were epoch making in so many other ways. After 'LARS' Bob eventually returns to the stage and 'Peter' or 'Paul' assures the crowd that he's getting is acoustic guitar. They were then treated to brilliant versions of 'Tambourine Man' and, tellingly, 'It's All Over Now, Baby Blue'. If they had been listening properly they would have noticed that Dylan, after all the booing, still had the iron balls to come back on and tell 'em to 'stick it'. They probably thought they'd 'won'.

There it is. Amazing footage of the most important musical artist of the last century or so turning into the singular person he remains to be. Long may he reign. This really is essential for anyone with an interest in all things Bob.

Record Fayre Round-Up #693

27 Sh'vat - Year 5768

We had a small bit of spare cash left-over this month, so I was green-lighted to go the Record Fair at the Oxford Town Hall. It's been quite a while since I'd been--nearly a year, I think.

It's still being held in the smaller room on the first floor, as there aren't nearly as many sellers to fill the large room (where it used to be). In fact, there were even less tables than the last time I attended. I strongly suspect this has to do with "the intrawebs", as a lot of bootlegs can be had through bit-torrent sites like Dime-A-Dozen and Demonoid, including artwork. The amount of re-issues being released, especially by smaller labels devoted to exactly that purpose, which are easily ordered on-line, also contributes to the number of blokes willing to haul their wares around to small events. Sadly, it may spell the end of the monthly fairs held in Oxford.

On the other hand, it does mean that eventually, these guys selling boots will probably have to lower their prices. Remarkably, there were a few tables loaded up with them--going for £10-£15 a disc (£25 for double-disc sets!). The selection was the usual suspects--Beatles, Dylan, Floyd, Stones, etc. Some of the artwork seemed O.K., a lot were far worse than my home-made stuff. Sure enough, some people actually shelled out for them. I was tempted to tell one punter buying a few Beatles boots that that stuff was readily available on-line almost free, just a bit of internet time downloading a bit-torrent client and the cost of some blank discs--but I didn't want to be chased out of the hall by a mob of merchants. Plus, I thought, maybe he's not savvy to the bit-torrent revolution and he still thinks it's 1991, when the only way to get this stuff was through a bootlegger selling it.

Enough of that...I walked around and checked out ths discs and vinyl. Since Avid Records closed, I figured this may be the only way to score vintage prog and psych LPs. One of the 'regulars' always has a good selection, at not-so-good prices. He had a copy of Third Ear Band's second LP, the self-titled one (a.k.a. 'Elements'), priced at £35! It was in really good condition, but that didn't justify me spending over £30 for it. A couple of tables down, I found a copy of Tangerine Dream's 1971 album, Alpha Centauri, priced at £5. The sleeve's a bit battered, but the record itself plays just fine and it was a treat spinning it yesterday afternoon--a nice spacey soundtrack for a winter day. Sifting through the crates at the same table, I also found another T.D. album, Stratosfear, released on Virgin Records in 1976 (priced at £7) and one I've been looking to acquire for a long while now, Caravan's In The Land Of Grey And Pink--the Deram release with gatefold sleeve. The price tag on the Caravan was £10, but I tried to haggle the bloke down, because the sleeve is pretty beat-up (it turns out the record skips on the second side--but I didn't know that until later). He was reluctant, but eventually asked for £20 for all three, so I got a very slight deal.

After that, I checked out some CDs. I found the new Radiohead disc for £5, so I snapped it up. I bought Pixie a used copy of the double-disc Pulp compilation, Countdown 1992-1983, also for £5. It was priced at £6, but the guy let it and the Radiohead CD go for a tenner. I had another walk around--I passed the Rasta dude who's also there every month. I was tempted to buy a few dub discs from him, but he over-charges as well, as I learned the last time I bought from him. I stopped at the table of another regular who always has a full stock of psych and prog discs. Again, some of the stuff seems quite rare and possibly worth the £10 price tag, but a lot of it seems over-priced. I only had a bit of money left, so I wanted to make a decent choice. I ended up, after much inner debating, buying Atomic Rooster's debut album (first released in 1970), Atomic Ro-O-ster (don't ask me why it's titled that...). The one I bought is the '91 re-issue on Repertoire Records, which includes one bonus track. I only have one of their tracks as part of the Supernatural Fairy Tales box set, so I've been a bit curious to hear more. I'm told that their second album, Death Walks Behind You, "is" the best one--but I figured I'd start from the beginning. The debut is also the only A.R. album with Carl Palmer on drums, before he went off with those other two to start that other band. Vincent Crane, the group's leader and keyboardist, and Palmer were part of The Crazy World Of Arthur Brown, but defected to form Atomic Rooster in 1969. I haven't listened to it yet, but it'll be getting a spin this week.

There was another guy selling dance & hip-hop LPs and 12" singles--so I rifled through a few crates, looking for any of The Grid's albums but came up empty. I found a few Orb singles and even the ...Adventures Beyond The Ultraworld 2-LP set, but he wanted £20 for each--so that was definitely out. Lastly, I stopped at a table selling loads of used classical CDs. I searched for Stockhausen and Terry Riley discs, then realised that there weren't any modern classical CDs. I then remembered that I've been meaning to buy a copy of Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique. I found two different versions of it, but decided on the Decca Records disc with Zubin Mehta conducting. I found a Kronos Quartet disc, called White Man Sleeps, first released in 1987. It seems interesting and their quality control is usually pretty good. The seller with the classical discs had a small book rack at his table and just as I was about to leave, I spotted a hardcover copy of Nick Mason's Inside Out, his own recollections of being in Pink Floyd over the years. I had intended to buy it when it was first published in 2004--but as ever, never got round to it. I figured I'd have to try Amazon's used section and pay up the nose for it. This bloke was selling it for £12--but I asked to buy it for £10...we compromised at £11. Not bad, considering it was £30 when first out...and the copy I've got is in near-mint condition. I've already read through the first couple of chapters and the photos alone make it worth the money.

Well, I've got some reading and listening to do---be back soon.