He Will Be Missed

(Some likened RV to Grigori Rasputin the so called "Mad Monk", and it's true they were similar in many ways. Poet. Magician. Healer. Prophet. Drunk.)

My sincerest apologies for the lack of posts over the last while but the past few weeks have been a hugely traumatic time here at Gimcrack Solarium. The normally buzzing offices of Gimcrack HQ have become a sombre place since the news of our resident muso in chief RV's departure. So gone are the days when he would turn the air blue with colourful descriptions of his nightly misadventures in Dublin's most prominent drag bars. No more will we hear the sweet dulcet tones of his gentle laughter as he plies the 17 year old work experience girl (or boy for that matter) with cheap whiskey and line after line of rock cocaine in the vain hope of copping a ride at the office Christmas party. As it is, with steely hearts and stiff upper lips we must keep soldiering on and take comfort in the knowledge that he's in a better place now. South East Asia to be exact. The bastard.

Given that Mr RV was Gimcrack's walking talking music encyclopedia, now that he's upped and left us for sunnier climes the content is going to take a slightly different turn. I always found the whole writing about music aspect to be a bit of a chore and something which looking back over previous posts, as far as my own pieces are concerned, comes across as forced and a bit shit. Slagging off pompous arse brained celebrities has always been a much more enticing prospect for me and an area where I believe my skills are best put to use. You may argue that it is a mean spirited and nasty way to spend your days but I believe that the behaviour of these loathsome cretins justifies the criticism and besides I have always tried to temper the insulting articles with some genuinely nice things to say about movies/music/literature and will continue to do so.

On that note I'd just like to point out a few interesting things I've checked out in recent weeks and am looking forward to in the near future. One of my highlights of the year gigwise was the fantastic Taken By Trees show in the Sugar Club on the 25th September. A beautiful uplifting set from former Concretes singer and future star in waiting Victoria Bergsman. David Lynch's mind boggling masterpiece INLAND EMPIRE has just been released on dvd but my advice is do not watch this if you're suffering from a bad hangover, a warning I could have used when I saw it in the cinema earlier this year. I was feeling somewhat mentally unbalanced as it was and I'm pretty sure this 3 hour visual headfuck has done some permanent psychological damage. Anyone who's heard Animal Collective's latest Strawberry Jam should be waiting with baited breath for their upcoming show in Tripod on November 4th. Apparently at this year's Oxegen something like 12 or 13 people showed up to see them which is a fucking disgrace if you ask me. Upcoming movies to look out for are Ian Curtis bio-pic Control, Cohen Brothers latest No Country For Old Men and Quentin Tarrintino's enjoyably trashy Death Proof

Incidentally, if anyone reading this has an opinion about something and is interested in writing for Gimcrack, I have just updated our contact details. A word to the wise though, we will not print anything that is racist or bigoted in any way and we reserve the right to change things we don't like so don't get upset if we do just that. Until next time.

S.B.

So long, farewell, Auf Weidersehen, goodbye, I leave and heave a sigh and say goodbye. Goodbye!

This will be my last post on gimcrack for quite a while (possibly ever!). Wait! Put down that razor blade! It's not the end of the world. You'll be left in the more than capable hands of SB, though who knows how long that will last, he's been head-hunted like craxy over the last few weeks, every publication worth its salt wants a piece of him, from Swimming Monthly to Badger Fanciers UK, I even heard a rumour that he's in talks with the Indo to replace Barry Egan.

So what earth-shattering subject should I ruminate on in my final duh-piece? Maybe Radioheads shock decision to release their new album in 9 days time, letting the fans decide what they want to pay for it. Nah!

How about the fact that Kanye West is giving a shout-out to Bat for Lashes on his blog? Nope.

How about Animal Collective luring children into some sort of cultish backwards noise freakout! Hardly news.

So I decide on tearing apart some band I'd never heard of until today, The Wombats and their oh-so-fucking-ear-rapingly-terrible song 'Lets Dance to Joy Division' but whats the point when my good buddy Pantone247 has put it so eloquently elsewhere:

''not only is it a total piece of shit, pissing all over the grave of Ian Curtis while sounding like a shitter McFly sans a tune... but it's obviously been timed to coincide with the release of Control... oh dear... a special place in marketing opportunity driven fake indie shitbag hell awaits you you retarded shitty simpering fuckbags''

So whats left for me to say? I've had a great time spewing random bullshit onto these webpages and I want to give much love and thanks to the literally dozens of readers we've had over the last couple of months. I'll drop in from time to time over the coming months but don't expect me to post anything as I'm taking up Heroin for the winter and am planning on hitting it super hard so the keyboard on my laptop won't work, what with all the junk-drool and AIDs scabs that'll fall on anything I go near.

Peace, Hugs and Love from yr VBF forever,
RV.

Wait! Thats not good enough is it? I want to go out with a bang, some sort of life affirming ultrasupermega positive message of hope and joy that you can take into yr hearts and be penetrated by it's ever golden spirit! I know, how bout a clip of The Boss, live, in East Berlin, in 1988, playing in front of over a million people with funny haircuts and a long repressed desire to 'rock out'? Yeah, that oughta do it.
If yr not blabbering sweet tears of joy by the end of this you have no soul!

Barry Egan Is An Idiot

(Couldn't find a picture of the worthless tosser but he looks a bit like Mick Hucknall. Same beady eyes, ginger barnet and ridiculous facial hair. Use your imagination)

Barry Egan, so called journalist with the Independent newspaper, is an ugly man. So ugly in fact that upon encountering him in the street you would reflexively vomit up the contents of your stomach while simultaneously trying to claw your eyes out. He looks like some kind of root vegetable that has been crossbred with a particularly vile looking rodent and has somehow managed to worm his way into writing for a national newspaper. His obnoxiousness knows no bounds.

The human equivalent of a wet fart Egan's creepy, sycophantic articles exude the rancid odour of hysterical celebrity worship and shallow status anxiety. Never in my life have I come across a writer so singularly devoid of talent, originality or insight. In a just world, a ridiculous fuckhead like this would be marched out into the middle of a crowded street, shackled to a stock and pelted with rotting fruit for eternity.

Egan's writing seems to consist mainly of articles where he fawns over some airhead celebrity tart, plies them with alcohol and badgers them into spouting salacious comments which he then plasters all over his column in massive typeface. Its an indescribebly creepy experience to read one of his pieces from start to finish. His slurping crawling prose reads like a mixture between a horny teenage boy and a deeply disturbed "bad" uncle. Take this extract from his widely renowned think piece on deranged, jackal faced coke whore Tara Plamer-Tomkinson:

Like an ab fab and size-zero Bessie Bunter on LSD, Tara wolfs down a ham-and-cheese panini before just as quickly ordering another one ("They are amazingly naughty," she exclaims, like Bessie Bunter in the throes of a food orgasm). Like an ab fab Sue Ellen Ewing in YSL shoulderpads, TPT lorries back a Bloody Mary before just as quickly ordering another one.

The show is only beginning. When it is time to leave for the airport, she wants to change her clothes. The PR girl tells her to change in the other room. Tara decides to change in front of me. She strips down to her bra and knickers and puts on jeans and a top.

See what I mean? Both creepy and nonsensical.

When not mentally raping addled IT girls, Egan spends his days documenting the worthless lives of Dublin's biggest pricks. Rosanna Davison, Robbie Fox, some ugly slag called Roz Lipsett (anyone?), Egan seems to think dispicable shits like this somehow represent the pinnacle of modern culture because they have rich parents or own crappy nightclubs.

Egan's crowning achivement thus far has been ghostwriting a weekly column for self styled Dublin socialite/waiter and reality tv star Gavin Lambe-Murphy, a man so utterly detestable that were you to gun him down in a crowded resturant, you would probably be given freedom of the city. Seriously, his grinning twattish features practically invite you to punch him in the throat.

I was going to finish this article with the word cunt typed over and over but I realized that might be boring for the reader and make me look like some kind of deranged mental case so I decided instead to type the word prick over and over.

Prick, Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick,Prick, FUCKING PRICK!!

S.B.

Herman Düne / Jeff Lewis Band Crawdaddy 14th & 18th Sept

How do you write a gig review? How do write two gig reviews at once? What is a gig review for? The only people I can see benefiting from a gig review are, the writer who writes it (if they're getting paid to do so) and the artist (if they can actually gleam even the smallest piece of good advice from it, this never happens, it shouldn't). Have you ever gone to a gig on the strength of a review alone? Have you ever read a gig review by a band you've never heard of? Here's the gist of the reviews I imagine I would've wrote had I been bothered:

Herman Düne - Crawdaddy Friday 14th September ::
Excited. Support sucked. Yay! new songs are great. Yay! some of my favorite older songs. Nice distortion.

Jeff Lewis Band - Crawdaddy Tuesday 18th September ::
Excited. Support sucked. Yay! new songs are great. Yay! some of my favorite older songs. Nice bickering.

See! Gig reviews are the cookery-shows of the writing / dancing about music / architecture scene. Yep, this is the most right I've ever been about anything ever.

Jeff Lewis - Life mp3
Herman Düne - This Will Never Happen mp3
Jeff Lewis - The Man With The Golden Arm (Peel Session) mp3
Herman Düne - Suburbs With You (Peel Session) mp3

Jeffrey Lewis - 'Williamsburg Will Oldham Horror'


Herman Düne - Not On Top


- RV.

Funny? Not Really...

Just read this amusing little tidbit. Nick Diamonds, chief songwriter with Islands, recently recorded a song for charity with some friends under the name Internet. Unbeknownst to Diamonds, Final Fantasy's Owen Pallet had already claimed this moniker for a side project of his own. Pompous little shit that he is, Pallet threatened legal action when he found out, despite the fact that the Internet single was a once off for charity. Rather than go through a messy legal battle, Internet decided to change their name to, wait for it, Final Fantasy: Online AKA Internet...

...ermmmmm...

...It's been a quiet day on the old news front...

...I'm hungry...

Islands - Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby mp3

Final Fantasy (Owen Pallet's FF) - This Lamb Sells Condos mp3

Final Fantasy Online aka Internet covering 'Dumb Dog' from Annie:



S.B.

Leslie Feist. Mmmmmmmmmm

Here's poem about Canadian chantause Leslie Feist that I found on the bus. It was signed K.Drew.

Feisty, Feisty, Feist
Your songs are very nice
Your hair is also nice
Will you be my wife?

Feisty, Feisty, Feist
Your album's very nice
I bet your eyes are nice
Will you be my wife?

Feisty, Feisty, Feist
Do you like my cat?
His fur is very nice
Will you be my wife?

Fesity, Feisty, Feist
My favourite is track 9
It's lovely and your nice
Will you be my wife?

Feist's latest LP The Reminder is the kind of goosebumpy, 5 in the morning gem of an album that most intelligent people would adore if they bothered to get off their fat fucking arses and took an interest in some of the wonderful music that's currently being released. But oh noooo! Instead they listen to Bloc Party, Timbaland and Wishbone Ash. Honestly, I don't know why I bother sometimes.

Here's the lady herself, performing on Letterman with a choir featuring menbers of Grizzly Bear, Mates of State, Broken Social Scene and The New Porographers:



Feist Myspace

S.B.

Holy Shrieking Shit! Led Zeppelin To Reform! (Oh, Who Fucking Cares?!)

(Legendary Rocker Robert Plant Pictured With Either B.P. Fallon Or A Terminally Ill Boy)

So they went through more groupies than the Who, took more drugs than the Who and supposedly stuffed a Great White Shark up a girl's front bottom (although I think that may have been the Who) but for me the news of a Zeppelin reunion is about as exciting as a Who concert, i.e., not very.

It's very likely that Page and Plant were spurred on by the huge success of the Rolling Stones'recent Forty Licks Tour, the greedy whores. But whereas the Stones'music means so much to so many people, Zeppelin, with the benefit of hindsight, seem clumsy, oafish and embarrassing to all but a few sweaty males over the age of 25. I will admit Battle of Evermore is a quite good, as is most of Zeppelin IV, but all the silly Tolkienesque mythology and songs about marauding Vikings appear downright laughable now. But as with every other one of these over the hill reunion shows you can guarantee that the tickets will be snapped up in about forty seconds flat.

Okay, I did go through a big Zeppelin phase in my late teens/early twenties but that was also around the time I was setting warehouse fires so there you go. I once read that during Zeppelin's groupie defiling heyday an increasingly deranged Jimmy Page liked to travel with a special suitcase filled with whips and other bondage gear. Page was also particularly fond of dressing up in full Nazi regalia and nipping out to indulge in a spot of recreational heroin abuse with the drag queens at his local transvestite club. Sounds like what I got up to this weekend! I kid, I kid.

The show is a tribute some dead person called Ahmet Ertegün* whoever he was (shit name mate! and if he's dead then why does he need a benefit?) so I can't even slag it off without looking like a prick. Actually fuck that, I'll give it a shot. Paolo "Somebody Please Stamp On My Larynx" Nutini is on the line-up. I suppose I could go along to heave a large rock in the direction of his head but that would require my actual bodily presence. Anyway, the Who reunion concert will take place on the 26th November at London's O2 arena. You can register for tickets here:

www.ahmettribute.com

S.B.

*Ed - Ahmet Ertegün co-founded Atlantic Records in 1947 and introduced the world to many wonderful artists including The Drifters, Ray Charles and Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. What have you done you worthless internet hack?

Cass McCombs - Dropping the Writ

Me: Hey have you heard the new Cass McCombs?

My best friend: Yeah we listened to it together remember?

Me: I can't stop listening to it, it's so damn lovely!

My best friend: Yeah me neither, I've heard it just as much as you have and yes it is damn lovely, possibly the loveliest record of the year, but then, I'm mad for the soft rock.

Me: It is very 'soft rock' isn't it? All super shiny guitar parts and echo-laden howls of joy, quite 80's?

My best friend: Quite. Who says 'echo-laden howls of joy' anyway?

Me: I do. I'm a music writer don't you know? Terms like that just force their way out of my mouth, remember I called that cereal this morning 'transcendental' and I said sophomore when talking about my second piece of toast, it's so people know I'm a music writer.

My best friend: Whatever. I've got Cass' first album A but never heard the one between that and this, PREfection. A is really good.

Me: Yes it is, love that song 'Aids in Africa', love the whole album really, so funereal, really makes a virtue out of every song sounding the same, slow as a glacier or some other really slow thing, I might save the glacier analogy for the next Sigur Ros Album. I've not heard Cass' sophomore effort either.

My best friend: I know.

Me: Yeah? Hard man to get any info on, is our Cass, dunno when the albums even coming out. His website just has the words 'Fire in the hole' and nothing else.

My best friend: Yeah I've been there.

Me: We're very similar, you and me. Have you seen those cute kids singing 'Stereo' by Pavement?

My best friend: Yeah I get the popbitch mailout too. You don't really understand it do you?

Me: Understand what?

My best friend: I'm not your best friend, you're writing this all yourself, I'm just a small part of your mental make up.

Me: Huh?

My best friend: For God's sake, you really are a lost cause. I'm the sensible part of you, I think you should stop smoking, get some exercise, return old friend's calls and please please please stop calling yourself a 'music writer' it's embarrassing for all of us, you don't even know what transcendental means!

Me: I don't like this, I'm putting you back in the box with Gay Me and Pro-active Me. Yr a lacerated willyhole.

My best friend: Very mature, You know....

Me: NANANANANANANANANANANANANANAH shit off! I'm listening to Dropping the Writ.

Cass McCombs - Petrified Forest mp3

Cass McCombs - Morning Shadows mp3

- RV & SRV

Thomas Hansen 1976 - 2007

Weird thing happened to me tonight. The plan was to do some work on a website and then do a piece on the new Cass McCombs album (this'll come tomorrow) for gimcrack. Searching through my cd's for something to distract me from my work I laid eyes on 'There's Only One of Me' by Saint Thomas, the sixth and regretfully last album by this Norwegian ex-postman.

I hadn't heard it in a while, when I picked it up earlier this summer I played it (particularly one song) non-stop for a week and had grown tired of it. In parts it can be a fairly harrowing and desolate listen, with Hansen singing honestly and bravely about his mental problems and struggles with drink and anti-depressants.

Track 7 got me again tonight, I love it so much, can't explain why it's any better than the other songs on the album or any other album by any other artist but tonight this song was all I wanted to listen to. I stuck it on repeat and started sketching away ideas for the website, I must've listened to it over 25 times. I headed over to the Saint Thomas website so see what's up, any new recordings on the horizon, only to be punched in the gut by this message:

Last night, my incredibly dear friend Thomas Hansen was found passed away in his apartment in Oslo. He was 31 years old.

Today is a tough day for his friends and family, and for all of those who were touched by the music he created. Many sang better than him or knew more chords on the guitar, but Thomas had a fantastic sense for melody that was surpassed by few. He would phone you up and ask for a suggestion for a song title, and thirty minutes later he would call again and play you the incredible song that he had just written and recorded for you.

Thomas struggled at many points in his life, his mental problems and addictions were public knowledge because he dared to speak about them. What would be his latest record was recorded at the lowest point of his life, a brutally honest album detailing the struggles of addiction and pain that he was experiencing. He got help and he got better, but there was always the struggle in his life between the shy boy who just wanted to be left alone and the artist who had to look his audience in the eye.

Hopefully, he has finally found peace.

My deepest sympathies to Beth, Terje and Kate. Getting to know your son and your brother was the most important thing that ever happened in my life. I miss him so much.

See you on the other side, Thomas.

Reidar A. Eik
September 11th 2007

This is the worst I've felt in a long while.
Here's the song I couldn't stop playing tonight which, to me, will never sound the same again.
R.I.P Saint Thomas.

Saint Thomas - My Morning mp3

Saint Thomas Website
Yes Boy Ice Cream Records

- RV.

Speak The Hungarian Rapper

So a friend hipped me to this You Tube Clip from Hungarian Rap Sensation Tamás Deák aka Speak. From the outset it's hard to tell if this is serious or not, it's one of those things that's so belly slappingly unintentionally hilarious that it's hard to believe it isn't the work of a comic genius.

You'll laugh at the way he says 'check this', you'll laugh when he mentions his 'black brudders', you'll laugh when he says 'yee c'mon', you'll laugh at the chorus and the men singing it, you'll laugh at the word 'business' you'll laugh when you realize he doesn't actually rap (hence the name dummy), you'll laugh at the fact he's holding a gickna pigeon in his hands rather than a dove, you'll laugh.

But seeing as Team Gimcrack are all about the love these day's and the fact that it was the somethingth anniversary of 9/11 43 minutes ago maybe we could all take a leaf out of Speak's book and try to 'live and love each other'. Tomorrow, why not wave at randomers and say hi, children and drunks do this all the time and they seem to be the happiest out of the lot of us.

Stop the War!

Speak Website

- RV.

A Few Good Reads

(Me writing this article)

Being a miserable bitter git is awful tiring work. I know everyone loves a good laugh, but honestly, if I have to write another story about Britney shitting on stage or Amy Winehouse sawing her husband's elbows off I'm going fuck my laptop out the window. I really do feel horrible inside writing about this bollocks sometimes. Rather than spend an evening trawling through grotesque peepshow that is fame, today I'm going to recommend a few good books I've picked up recently.

The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, Michael Chabon

A rollicking good tale from the Author of Wonder Boys. Tells the story of Josef Kavalier, an aspiring magician and talented artist, who flees Nazi occupied Prauge and goes on to create one of the most enduring superheroes of the golden age of comics, The Escapist, with his cousin Sammy. The characterization in this novel is particularly strong with both Joe and Sammy being infuriating and lovable in equal measures. Full of wry humour and impeccable set pieces this has more heart than a four chested mountain goat.

The Road, Cormac McCarthy

Cormac McCarthy has long been one of my favourite writers. His epic novels about the unrelenting savagery of man are full of passages of such breathtaking beauty you almost want ingest the book. That would be unwise but probably not fatal. So go ahead, eat one. In the meantime, check out his latest novel set in the aftermath of a Nuclear Holocaust. It tales the tale of a dying man trying to protect his young son from gangs of marauding cannibals as they make their way across a burned America. Haunting and beautiful.

Jesus Son, Denis Johnson

This was made into a forgettable film which was actually co-scripted by the author himself. While the film was dull, the book on the other hand is a captivating read. Not so much a novel as a series of loosely interconnected stories as told by a staggeringly eloquent junkie. Full of passages of such poetic grace that I actually wrote one down and used it on a chick one night. I got a ride. Score!

The People's Act Of Love, James Meek

Wow! This was my find of the year. Wouldn't want to give to much away by revealing the story (and what a story!) but let me just say I have not been gripped by a novel like this in a long time. Without saying too much I can tell you that it involves a mysterious stranger arriving in a small Siberian town during the Russian Civil War of 1919 with astonishing and terrifying consequences. A minor masterpiece.

Everything Is Illuminated, Jonathan Safran Foer

I wasn't as blown away by this as some people were. I found the passages relating to the Author's grandmother slightly boring and the whole thing gets a bit sickly sweet at times. Perhaps the hype surrounding the book put me off somewhat but I finished saying, "so what?" Having said that the character of Alex, the word mangling interpreter, makes it worth buying alone. Hilarious in places but deathly dull in others.

Drop City, T.C. Boyle

Many consider this to be the prolific American author's masterpiece. Set at the tail end of the 60's when the dream was beginning to turn sour Boyle brilliantly weaves the tale of a burnt out hippy commune that ups sticks and heads for the wilds of Alaska. As life falls apart during the harsh winter months tempers flare and strange friendships are borne. Boyle is a fantastically descriptive writer and spins a brilliantly atmospheric tale. Sort of like a Robert Altman movie if it was a T.C. Boyle book.

Phew! That was pretty cathartic. I feel like a new man cleansed of all my hate. Having said that I'm sure my next post will probably be some sordid tale about Kerry Katona eating one of her babies. In the meantime I hope you enjoy my recommendations.

S.B.

The VMA's Turned Me into a Blabbering Wreck

Ok so here's a minute by minute, sap by spa rundown of The 2007 Video Music Awards as they were broadcast last night on MTV. It basically degenerates into a list of rude words by the end but you try and watch this thing and remain composed and witty, I'm surprised I didn't stick two pencils up my nose and slam my head on my laptop at some points.


21:00 :: Show starts! Britney's stumbling around, clearly confused. The damage is worse than we may have previously thought, she's forgotten how to lip-sync! Crowd looks like they may as well be watching Daniel Johnston. I wish Cypress Hill were making a comeback instead. Is it possible to applaud with a question mark? Everyone looks sad, which is understandable.

21:04 :: Nice one! Sarah Silverman, she'll make things right. Idiot crowd doesn't know whether to laugh or not, this is kinda uncomfortable. Shaved vagina's, diarrhoea, racist jokes! Silverman looks at the crowd like they're runny poo as she leaves, this will probably be the only good part.

21:14 :: Mark Ronson is leading the cunting house band for the night. He's so shit right now. Dunno who's talking now, some shit about v.i.p party's??? Kanye West's Good Life Party? Timberlake & Timbaland's Southern Hospitality Party? R. Kelly & DMX's Doggy-fiddling Party? Load of Barse.

21:16 :: First award! The alpha-slag from Pussy Cat Dolls and Paw Boobed Eve: Bumbling Clods. Monster Single of the Year. Too many nominees to care. Rhianna wins. She says this is heavy but I don't think she's talking about anything other than the weight of the award, would have been nice if she had some sort of psychological breakdown or something. Didn't thank God, She'll get hers!

21:19 :: Back to Kanye's party, everyone's wearing shit shades but it actually looks kinda fun. Kanye's not all that bad bad tho, he's no guy from Alabama 3, hate that guy.

21:20 :: Fucking Akon comes on from out of no where for pretty much 10 seconds. I don't need shit like this.

21:21 :: Quadruple Threat award??? What does that even mean? Oh it's the Best Musician Who Also Does Other Shit Award! Dancer/singer/actor/clothing line Justin wins, seems like a prick.

21:23 :: Fall Out Boy's private party. Whats with this? My brains starting to melt. Always thought the good looking one would be the singer. Wooo they're smashing their equipment hopefully that's all they brought.

21:25 :: Now we're at The Foo Fighters party. Pat smear!!!! whats he doing back? I hate cello's. These private parties are giving the show a weird feel.

21:27 :: Best Earth Shattering Collaboration? Shittering more like HA! Bollix barse felch Fiddy and Kanye hype rubbish. Quite like that Gwen Steffani song, want that to win, Timbaland has become such an embarrassing fart bubble.
Beyonce/Shakira win, Beyonce's boobs are like jelly.

21:30 :: Ronson and arse voiced tossbag from Maroon 5, feel nauseous. Once again they only get about 30 seconds so its not all bad.

21:36 :: Performance from Chris Brown, Charlie Chaplin in a world where random rules, miming. I'd kill him if he jumped on my table like that, hope he falls.
Prick.

21:40 :: Rhianna interrupts for a lame version of Umbrella that sounds like she has Evanescence or Night Wish for a backing band, now Chris Brown is doing 'billie jean' for a second, then dances more useless dances.

21:43 :: Back to Kanye's party, dunno who this is, someone who's a horrible shit possibly.

21:43 :: Stars of some show I've never heard of. Male Artist of the Year. Timberlake wins, Timbamuppet makes the speech its so fucking touching, touching balls!!! Ahahahahahahahahahahahah. Speech goes: 'fuckity fuck fuck barse boring blah blah i love you all but don't wanna see The Simpsons on reality television' Odd ball.

21:47 :: Cee-lo and Foo Fighters butcher Prince. Doesn't seem to be any black people at these private parties, just blonde white girls.

21:48 :: Fiddy, J.T and Timbaland. Infinity-bollix Product Placement Rap. Worst. Shit. Ever. Fiddy looks exhausted from having to 'rap' and move at the same time.

21:50 :: Shia leBoeuf announces the name of the new Indiana Jones movie to the most uncaring bunch of half wits ever assembled (it's called 'Indiana Jones and the Mega Badger' if you care). Presents Female Artist of the Year. Fergie wins but has wet her pants, can't come to the stage. Ludacris supposed to come get it but doesn't bother. Shia LeBoeuf wins Best Female.

21:57 :: Pamela Anderson points us in the direction of Kanye's party once again, how much screen time does this guy get?? Party looks far to orderly, cant help wishing for a natural disaster to hit Vegas, a piss vortex perhaps.

22:00 :: Fall Out Boy and Lil Wayne, really??? That's actually baloobas enough to be semi-interesting. I'm wrong.

22:02 :: Someone called Megan Fox dressed as a hooker, Timbaland and Linkin Park, this can't get much worse. This is worse than cot-death, well probably not. Actually they don't even deserve to be blah fuckity fuck fart blah.

22:06 :: Stars of Entourage, look like coke heads, present Best Band. Fall Out Boy win, seem to be surrounded by people pulling mooner's turns out they're muppets trying to get on camera.

22:09 :: Foo's and Serj Tankian covering 'Holiday in Cambodia' someone here must have a sense of humour.

22:15 :: Rhianna's back, singing with Fall Out Boy now, worthless ball sweat.

22:16 :: Nelly introduces Alicia Keys, forgot both of them existed, doing some sort of power ballad that sounds just like 'Where is the Love' by Black Eyed Peas, that's how bad it is. Seems to be taking forever to end, now she's covering George Michael via Stevie Wonder, whats the fucking point, mud shitting ball noise severed limb sex fantasy music overblown herpes soul.

22:22 :: Fall Out Boy party, doing that 'We don't have to take out clothes of to have a good time' song. Please take yr skin off and roll around in battery acid you pricks.

22:23 :: Jamie Foxx breaks news of a Tommy Lee / Kid Rock fight! Stop white on white crime!! Jamie Foxx must be on drugs he's all over the gaff. Jennifer Garner's there as well. best new artist Gym Class Heroes win, the Bjorn Again of emo-hop.

22:26 :: Fiddy's back 'rapping' along with himself.

22:27 :: Idiot Miss South Carolina makes fun of her self I think, maybe she just fucked up again. More Ronson bilge.

22:28 :: Mary J. Blige is looking old, talking bout raw, real music. She's talking about Dr. Dre, he's done some good shit but seriously this is laughable, muscle bound mumbling weirdo tries to make some tenuous link between being a great producer and the Best Video Award.

22:31 Best Video! Justice nominated again? Kanye too, maybe this is just so Kanye can get his own back for last year. Ha! No Rhianna wins! Hardly the best video ever. Rubbish no brain speech.

22:33 :: Fucking Mastodon, how it does it feel, playing to a bunch of star fucker gowls politely bopping their empty skulls?

22:39 :: Timbagain Justin & Nelly Furtado, fuck this I'm going for a wee.

22:44 :: Back, this shite is still on, honestly just had a chat with my dad about why Kraftwerk are better than Joan Armatrading.

22:46 :: Thank Allah it's finally over. That wasn't worth it at all.

So there we have it, terrible things said and done by horrible people infront of gormless fucktards and Kanye stll didn't get an award, can't wait till next year.

- RV.

Crack Cat Makes Me Sad

It's been a very slow week for arsehead celebrity shenanigans. However, trawling through the interweb, I came across this little gem. It has been alleged by the Sun newspaper that cadaver in waiting Pete Doherty has been feeding his cat crack cocaine. Sources claim that the clearly disturbed Babyshambles frontman regularly sucks the glass dick with his cat Dinger, even fashioning the cat its very own miniature crack pipe. The slightly dubious sounding article goes on to claim that the cat now suffers from mood swings and believes it can fly. Apparently Doherty thinks this is hilarious.

Not to be outdone, I decided to try a little experiment of my own. My dog Hendrix has always had a fondness for mind bending chemicals. As students, my chums and I would spend many a mirthful evening force feeding poor Hendrix speed and magic mushrooms and collapsing in hysterics as the pooch, clearly fucked out of his mind, barked at a plant for six hours. Upon hearing Doherty's latest crack crazed antics it felt it was my duty, no my obligation, to outdo the fucker. I really was not prepared for what happened next.

Crack is a wimp's drug Doherty, you git! You ever see a King Charles Terrier fucked to the eyeballs on smack? Let me tell you it's not a pretty sight. I carefully loaded the spike with 60mgs of the finest China White Euros could by and spiked little Hendrix on the left paw. After the initial puking, Hendrix started to feel the rush. Being ever the caring owner I set the mood by putting on The Velvet Underground's soaring paeon to the brown love, the aptly titled Heroin. Hendrix was on Cloud-Fucking-Nine! Little doggy eyes rolling back in his skull. I cranked up the music and let Hendrix drift off into the needlebliss.

It's been almost a week now and Hendrix is already into the first stages of a habit. He's been moody and secretive and I've noticed money going missing from the house. What started out as a bit of fun has ended up causing a massive rift between us. Hendrix blames me for his habit but refuses to accept any help from me. I've offered to pay for rehab and even organized an unsuccessful intervention. Now I'm drinking too much and blaming myself for Hendrix's habit and the situation has hit crisis point.

Doherty you twat! Look what fucking misery you've caused! I hold you personally responsible for my dog's heroin addiction! In all seriousness though if this is true then Doherty is bigger cunt than I previously thought. He must be due another court appearance soon, surely? Let's hope the next judge is not so lenient and doles out a well deserved spell in the chokey. I don't know about you but the news of a prolonged campaign of shower beatings directed towards Doherty would cheer me up no end.

Read the full story here

S.B.

(Note - The Author has never given a pet drugs, hard or ortherwise)

The Z-List Irish Celebrity Bebo Wars!

If yr a dickhead like me you probably leaf through someone else's copy of the Evening Herald most days of the week. Well you should have noticed a barely tolerable news story on page 11 of today's edition (Weds 5th), how could you not stop to read an article headlined 'Rosanna's Bebo Pool Pic Holocaust'(well it actually wasn't that, but something similar). Seems like former Missus World and daughter of nanny-bopping Demigod Chris De Blurggh (psyche!- I'm so funny) Rosanna Davison is having a little bit of trouble on her Bebo page.

According to the Herald some nasty bint criticized sweet/smart/charitable Rosanna for wearing make-up in the swimming pool! And then, and then...Oh fucking stick it up yr barse. Shit story, sorry my brains not working this week. She was slagged, she remained reposed and gave a polite yet cutting remark, some supposed celebrity friends (pippa o'connor?, paul byrom?, me neither) and hangers-on weigh in with support and potentially libelous rebuttals, supposed jealous coke head nasty bint takes it back. Whoopdee-shitting-doo. You can read the whole word-swill here but ask yrself, 'Am I really prepared to give up half an hour of my life to read some people I've never met and couldn't even comprehend caring abouts inane blatherings?'

Seriously, I did and I feel atrocious right now. I've spent 45 mins flicking between Bebo and this yoke, sitting in bed getting stoned and eating crackers with hummus and I'm supposed to make fun of these people? It's high time I started letting the love out. Rosanna probably is a really nice, clever person. She does a lot of charity work and has tips for living a greener life on her page, Pippa O'Connor's page is private so i can't have a look but she's more than likely as sound as Jesus, Paul Byrom... actually he does seem like a bit of an absolute blurtch mangler, fuck him.

- RV.

Oh The Humanity!

(A War Child, Yesterday)

"War, huh, what is it good for? Absolutely nothin'" Sang Edwin Starr in 1969. Well for one you get to see really cool explosions on the telly. Seriously though, war is a terrible thing and it has filled countless people's lives with needless suffering. If you need any further proof than that then recoil in horror at the news that Keane are to release a single for the charity War Child on October 29th.

The Night Sky, according to NME.com, is written from the perspective of a child living in a war zone. Growing up in notorious conflict area East Sussex, this is a harrowing subject Keane frontman Tom Chaplin knows only too well. Having spent many a morning avoiding unexploded landmines on his way to class at the £8404 a year Tonbridge Boarding School in Kent, Chaplin is not only the perfect candidate to write about the horrors of living in a war zone, but he's also a big fat arsehole.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for charities such as War Child helping to stop bloodshed across the globe but this whole culture of celebrities trying to save the planet sticks in my craw. If you criticize for a second the self congratulatory actions of these pompous egoists then you get labeled a despicable swine. The worst offender of this lot is fat mouthed bully Bob Geldof. Despite the fact that his overblown Live 8 extravaganza was organized to raise awareness of the plight of African Nations, the entire event suffered from a glaring lack of any minority artists on the bill. Certain hard bitten cynics argued that the event was merely staged to rehabilitate the careers of certain faded rock stars.

While these claims are unfounded and petty even by my standards I cannot help get wound up every time pampered jet-setting hypocritical dungheaps like Keane release a song for charity. Rather than buying the garraunteed awful single, just give the money straight to War Child if you really want to contribute to the cause. Simple as. I won't be doing it though seeing as there's nothing I hate more than war children. Well possibly Keane.

S.B.

I Heart Mice Parade.

Hi friend. Are you seeking a purveyor of magical electro-folk guaranteed to make you weep out your pituitary gland? Searching for some dizzying, gorgeous music that would have you beaten bloody for playing in a convent? Well my effeminate chum, it seems that your prayers have been answered. Mice Parade offer up the kind of dreamy, blissful, lo-fi tunefulness that will have you blubbing freely into your wasabe ripened organic double half-caff mochachino. But in a good way.

Signed to FatCat Records, home to among others the peerless Animal Collective and the slightly less fantastic but still really quite charming Múm, Mice Parade is essentially the alter ego of New York based multi-instrumentalist Adam Pierce. Latest album, ingeniously titled Mice Parade, is a strong contender for one of my records of the year. Using plainly strummed acoustic guitars as his foundation, Pierce adds layers of swirling synths, skittering beats and haunting vocals to create a beautiful and intimate collection of songs. I became so enamoured with this album that I quit my job and got a Mice Parade tattoo on my arse. In hindsight this was probably a bad idea.

Anyway, Mice Parade play The Village this Thursday 6th September. I'm going to be there. So will my fellow Gimcracker RV. Will you? Tickets cost €16.50 and are available from WaV Box Office 1890 2000 78.

Mice Parade - The Last Ten Homes mp3

Mice Parade FatCat Profile

S.B.

Madonna Directs A Film... Unfortunately Not A Sequel To Hubby's Masterpiece Swept Away.

(Eurgh!)

Jesus Christ! Who the fuck thought this was a good idea? It has been revealed that the Queen of Pop's directorial debut, the 50 minute short movie Filth and Wisdom, will get it's world premiere at the 2008 Sundance Film Festival.

Described as a comedy/drama/musical/romance, the story follows the exploits of a washed up, ageing transvestite as he/she desperately clings to his/her last dying traces of credibility while living out a marriage of convenience with a similarly talentless and hateful Brit mockney film director. Sorry, sorry, sorry! That's not actually the synopsis. Don't know where I got that rubbish from. Apparently it has something to do with the following: A Russian immigrant, ballet school, lap dancing, cultural revolution, poetry, night club, punk rock band, book writer, dominatrix and gypsy. Like a drunken Aunty getting off with one of your friends at a wedding, this is bound to be cringe inducingly awful.

The film, currently in post preduction, is not released until February next year. In the meantime, I have provided you with a clip from one of Madge's earlier cinematic masterpieces, In Bed With Madonna. This is the scene where she gives a water bottle a blowjob. Classy!

S.B.

Insufferable Twit Plays Prison Gig Shocker

Looking back over my last few posts yesterday I became utterly disgusted with myself. Simpering appraisals of fey indie bands!? Words like exquisite, sublime and LOVE! What was this? Had I lost my mind completely? "C'mon SB!" I said to myself. "Snap out of it. That's not the hate filled misanthrope people know and love. What are you gay or something?" With this in mind I decided to take drastic measures. I immediately hopped on my bike, headed on down to the Grand Canal and kicked a couple of swans to death. Instantly I felt like a new man.

This brings me nicely on to today's piece. This week Carl Bloody Barat made headlines when his band played a special one off show for the inmates of Pentonville Prison. Pentonville was made famous as the very slammer where former bandmate Peter Doherty served two months for robbing him. Aside from headbutting Johnny Borrell in 2005 this is probably Doherty's single greatest achievement. Now I know you're probably thinking that this post is going to be full of crude and puerile jokes about Barat getting anally raped in the showers. And you'd be right!

Here's what I envision. Book Barat on a nationwide tour of America's hardest prisons. Dress him up as Natalie Portman circa Closer. Throw him onstage in a flimsy dress in front of 80 of the hardest, most sex starved bunch of Mexican Gangbangers in San Quentin and watch the hilarity flow. I know that this seems just a tad bit cruel and unnecessary but this the man who inflicted on us not only the Libertines, possibly the most overrated British band of all time, but also his current posse of talent free posers Dirty Pretty Things.

Barat has always struck me as something something of the toffee-nosed public schoolboy slumming it with the tough kids and this latest cynical PR stunt does nothing to dissuade that notion. The fact that the gig has been organized by Wasted Youth to highlight the high number of suicides amongst young men in prison makes Barat's shameless publicity grabbing antics all the more disgraceful. It must be hard enough for these men being incarcerated in the first place without having this horsefaced twat come along to piss in their cornflakes with his infantile dribblings.

S.B.

(Author's Note - No swans were harmed during the writing of this article. However, a cat was shouted at)

The Fucking Beach Boys?!?

Ever been given a mix tape with no tracklisting? It's great, i wish all mixtapes had no clues as to what yr hearing and just nice home made covers instead. Ok it can be a bit irritating, asking the maker 'whats the song that goes de de dada oooooweeeeeoooo' or whatever, only for them to have no idea what yr on about AND they've already forgotten what they put on it in the first place, but when, years later, you come across one of the songs from the comp and you finally realize who it's by it can be a pretty awesome and sometimes mind blowing experience.

This has happened to me quite a bit but never have i been so freaked out as when i bought the Carl & The Passions / Holland twofer by The Beach Boys a couple years back. Contained within were 2 songs from a summer themed tape given to me by a friend. I would have never in a million years guessed that these songs came from the same band who released Pet Sounds or that other classic twofer Sunflower / Surfs Up. My guesses? First track maybe The Band? probably not The Band but definitely one of their followers, guys who wanted to get back to basics after their brains had been fried by psychedelia. The second track I thought could have been Lou Reed gone country (shamer). That would never happen.

The Beach Boys obsession which grips a lot of nerdy indie kids at some stage had been and gone with me but I'd never bothered to investigate past Surfs Up, C&TP had one of the worst album covers I'd ever seen, neither album featured many tracks written or produced by Brian Wilson in fact they'd brought in some new guys to help out with the writing and what's worse is these dude's were South African and I'm mad racist against South Africans. How foolish I was. The first song, written by newbies Blondie Chaplin and Ricky Fataar, is an absolute gem, dusty brown canyon music, pedal steel, waltzing under the stars and an anguished, yearning lead vocal from Chaplin makes this not just one of The 'Boys best late period songs but one of their best songs period.

The Beach Boys - Hold on Dear Brother mp3

The second, though not as heart pummelingly beautiful, is the real anomaly here: a great Mike Love song! It's like 'Student Demonstration Time' never happened. Another waltz, this takes us on a sprightly jaunt through some Californian utopia and for 2 minutes & 56 seconds Mike Love seems like a pretty cool guy. He's not.

The Beach Boys - California Saga - Big Sur mp3

I know, for a lot of Beach Boys superfans this'll be old news but if the thought of buying Carl & The Passions / Holland never crossed yr mind, hopefully this might change all that.

Oh and thanks Robbie!

- RV.

Grizzly Bear Make A New Friend (Sorry!)

Good news in store for fans of the gorgeously sublime Grizzly Bear. Having released one of 2006's best albums, the stunning Yellow House, the Brooklyn based four piece are set to insert shards of sweet love into our hearts once again with the release of their new ten track EP Friend on Warp Records. If that album is anything to go by expect lots of soaring, grandiose melodies and exquisitely crafted tunes. I went through a phase where I was pretty much obsessed with this album. I was playing it every chance I got and constantly berating friends who hadn't heard it. Needless to say my friends all ditched me and now I'm more alone than ever. Sob. No matter though, I finally got to see them live at the ATP Music Festival in May this year and was completely blown away. The band were on hypnotic form and held the audience captivated throughout a mesmerising show. If anything the songs sounded even more epic live than on record. Terrific stuff. My only regret is that I missed out on their impromptu acoustic set at sunrise on a nearby beach. I think I was in the toilet or something. Friend is released November 6.

Grizzly Bear - He Hit Me (and it felt like a kiss) mp3
(The Crystals cover)

Grizzly Bear Myspace

S.B.

Is Ted Nugent the Greatest Man Alive?

Of course not, he's a cunted fuck-stick. 'The Nuge' charges people up to $10,000 to take part in 'canned hunts' on his ranch Sunrize Acres, hates the gays, is mates with G.W Bush (his advice on Iraq? 'Our failure has been not to Nagasaki them.'), called Animal Rights Activist Heidi Prescott a 'worthless whore' and a 'shallow slut', has a song called 'Wang Dang Sweet Poontang' shall I go on? Did I mention he's mad into killing animals? Need more convincing? Check out the cover for his new album.

May he one day have his inside's slowly pulled through his gored asshole by an otter. Until that day lets hope he keeps doing bat-shit crazy things like his demented outburst on stage in California last week. Standing on stage wearing a super lame headset mic made famous by eh.. call centre workers, holding 2 two of his trademark AR-15 rifles above his head 'Sweaty Teddy' laid into Democratic presidential candidates Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton calling Barack a 'piece of shit' and Hillary a 'worthless bitch', he then invited both of them to suck on his guns! Watch the video, laugh like a hyperventilating hyena and then swear to piss in Ted's eyes if you ever happen across him.



- RV.

Battles, I'm A Fan You Know

Someone recently asked me what sort of music Battles made. Rather than actually trying to describe their sound I instead emitted and series of grunts and bleeps and started doing a strange twirly dance. This was on a packed Luas. It took me a few minutes to convince the ticket inspector that I wasn't actually having an episode but rather trying to express, through bodily contortions, the strange effect Battles music has on me. But enough about me. I'm only intermittently brilliant. Battles' set on Friday night in Tripod on the other hand was a flipping marvel from start to finish.

Arriving onstage to a hero's welcome the band played an infectiously rousing show. Freaky slabs of mewling techno spazz rock that had us jerking around like malfunctioning robots. Current single Atlas got the biggest reaction of the night but the highpoint for me was the brilliantly funky and deranged Leyendecker. Special mention has to be given to drummer John Stainer who gave the performance of at least four lifetimes. Up front and centre stage the man was a frantic blur of hands, sticks, sweat and cymbals. That's not to say the rest of the band took it lightly in any way. Tyondi Braxton and Ian Williams lunged from guitar to keyboard, sometimes playing both at the same time, like a pair of drunken children. It was a joy to watch.

In a word, sticky.

S.B.



Battles Myspace

Me fail English?! That's unpossible! (Something about The Killers)

I decided I'd have a bit of fun with today's post. I ran the piece through a language converter and changed it from English to German then back to English again. This seemed a lot funnier in my head.

You do not satisfy was conglomerates have with nearly destroyed music with its shocking shit sack of an album Hot Fuss Las Vegas throw The Murderers another tear there with the release of its impending B-sides collection. It gives two of types people that like The Murderer music. Idiots and that that intellectually are handicapped. If you earnestly consider, that the buying of this moving apology of an album of the world a favor makes, and skin your own throat immediately. They have obviously the entire intellect, the intelligence and the taste of a lamp.

The front man Brandon Flowers of The Murderers with its refuse beard and entire punchable face is a cackhead useless. It should be locked in for crime against humanity and has broke its thumbs every month for ten years. The remaining volume should have its instruments, that are inserted violent into its mast intestines. It is a sad situation if clowns of this not only like, is permitted to release music, but rather also one of the most popular volumes becomes on the planet.

If I happen ever on this quantity, that plays at a celebration, that I happen to be at I, would throw almost certainly a bottle of the urine at Flowers. Goods both that as whistles only very loudly from. This would be allowed to earn would carry me a blow in the face however I the bruise as a sign of the honor. In the reason the point I try to make with this entire nonsense, am, are that The Murderers a volume rotten, and its frontman is a complete idiot. Peace y'all!

S.B.

If you only buy one album this week {1}

Angels of Light - We Are Him {Young God Records}

You thought you were in the clear didn't you? You mealy-mouthed prick-hole! Thought you could just fanny about listening to Suburban Kids with Biblical Names and P:ano clapping yr hands, dancing like a girl never even considering the consequences! 'It's grand' you said 'Michael Gira's mellowed out since disbanding Swans, no more raping of slaves no more public castration. These days everything is good here yeah? NO!

After six albums as Angels of Light 54 year old Michael Gira has gone and gotten angry again. His tryannical voice has always given his songs a chilling darkness but more often than not it has been obscured by the shafts of light eminating from his beautiful acoustic arrangements and allmost too sweet melodies - like a cute kid smiling as they slowly saw through yr shin.

Throughout most of We Are Him the music sounds more like an army of sub-human rape spawn tearing yr body limb from limb, maniacly cackling, blood on their teeth.

Akron/Family once again act as backing band but the album features a fairly huge cast including mystical dominatrix Larkin Grimm and ex & current members of Swans / Ministry / REM / Alice Donut / Antony & The Johnsons / Cop Shoot Cop... the list goes on.

Violent, evil, dark but also tender at times and full of heart We Are Him is Angels of Lights most electrifying and absorbing album to date. Let those cyclical riffs crush yr bones to dust.

Black River Song mp3 {the opening evilness}

The Man We Left Behind mp3 {the softer stuff}

Angels of Light myspace
Young God Records

We are him is released on Friday 24th Sept.

- RV.

Michael Hutchence Will Wank Again!

Wow! What a week! Despite rumours to the contrary I am not actually dead. I woke up on Wednesday morning on the floor of the Clarendon Hotel, sans trousers, with a belt around my neck and half a lemon in my mouth. On a related topic, it seems that Michael Hutchence, celebrity auto erotic asphyxiator and frontman of Doors tribute band INXS, is set to return from beyond the grave. Hutchence, who famously wanked himself to death in a Sidney hotel room is to be the subject of a new rock bio-pic in development with, weirdly enough, Morgan Freeman's company Revelations Entertainment.

Slide Away will feature Hutchence's ghost guide his 11 year old daughter Tiger-Lily through various parts of his life, including taking her to the very hotel room where he bashed out his last. Despite what you may think I am not actually making this up. Presumably the sight of her old man blue faced, bulge-eyed, drooping cock in hand is how every father would want his daughter to remember him. Hayden Christianson, better known as the whingy twat who ruined Star Wars, is set to play Hutchence in what is likely to be the most fun filled family romp of the season.

- S.B.

The most words what I ever wrote in one go

Sorry there hasn't been any posts the last couple of days, I had a very busy weekend, a large part of which involved me standing in a muddy field getting rained on. I came down with a flu so did nothing but lie in bed watching The I.T Crowd on tvlinks, I just couldn't bring myself to attempt stringing words together in some sort of half readable fashion (I find that hard enough when I'm feeling 100%). Thats my excuse, I don't know whats up with yr other gimcracker SB, though he's probably been eating punnet after punnet of cherry tomatoes, getting in rumbles with his gang or giving back to nature, that's what he's into.

So i wake up today and i'm feeling much better, the sun is shining, I have a couple hours to kill before real work starts so I start thinking of something i can write about. My mind is blank. A quick sprint through the internet shows that it's been quite a quiet news week all over: The fuhrer of all music websites Pitchfork have an interview with Daryl Hall! of Hall & Oates fame, Our usual stop off for pointless un-news NME.com's top story is that huge abortion fan Madonna is selling her record company Maverick, anyone wanna own the rights to The Brood's back catalogue? Every other blog has been posting video's of Animal Collective live at the MIDI Festival in France so what's the point in even alerting you to that?

So I guess I'll just give you a quick run down of some of the great music i saw over the weekend yeah? Yeah.

The Spook of the 13th Lock: i can't praise these guys too much as they're friends but they really are shaping up to be one of the BEST BANDS IN THE WORLD EVER TIMES INFINITY!!!. Supposedly uncool elements like Trad, dual harmonising guitar solo's and Celtic Mysticism combine to make what some clownshoe is probably moments away from calling 'Horslips for the i-pod generation'.

Spook myspace

The Spook were one of the supports at the Brian Cullen's Love Bullets 10'' e.p launch in Toners of Baggot St. BCLB are one of the noisiest and most fun bands I've seen in a while, throwing sweets and hyperfuzzed sweet-pop into the crowd and their rapidly dying ear drums. The e.p comes with fantastic artwork and a board game designed by Studiomime aka Dublin musician David Donohoe and is already on the verge of selling out so get yrself down to Road Records as soon as you can and pick up one the the few remaining copies.

Love Bullets myspace

Straight after the BCLB gig i ran up to Crawdaddy for the Dan Deacon / So Cow gig. We've probably yakked on about Dan Deacon enough on this website so i'll just say his set was super fun, life-affirming stuff. The nialler9 blog has a more in depth review with pictures and video from the night, so go read. So what about So Cow? Well i have to say I'm kicking myself I didn't go see this guy more while he was home (he lives in the good Korea i think). Excellent lo-fi indie pop with smart/funny lyrics. Best part was he had his between song banter pre-recorded along with his backing tracks which constantly got me gigling.

So Cow myspace

Next morning i headed down to Wexford to play with Pantone247 at the Irish Green Gathering, Irelands first ever festival run entirely on petuli oil or something. Sunken stages, bails of hay used for toilets, minuscule organic burgers for 6.50, drum circles, no lights in the campsite and so many crusty types TG4's viewing figures must have been at an all time low - this was a lot of fun.

First act i caught were the always fun Cork langers Stanley Super 800, summery dance pop in the lashing rain, there's nothing better. The new songs sound great, speshly the supposed 'classic rock rip off' one. SS800 have a new album out in September.

SS800 myspace

Next up were the far too talented for their own good 10 past 7, breakneck rhythms, squiddly widdly guitar lines and so much jumping around that bassist Matt fell of the stage right into a pool of mud towards the end of their set. Brilliant stuff that you'd assume no one could follow.

10 past 7 myspace

Someone did follow and that someone was Rarely Seen Above Ground. It's fairly mind blowing stuff, one man from Kilkenny sat behind his drumkit playing and singing along to his own pre-recorded bass and guitar lines. His kit is augmented with all sorts of metallic bric-a-brac which he works into the beats with such furious speed as to make it seem like he's got an extra pair of hands. RSAB will be playing in Crawdaddy on Saturday (25th), go see him do his thing.

Rarely Seen Above Ground myspace
(his recorded work doesn't really give you the full effect, seriously go see him on Saturday)

- R.V

Razorlight To Split? (For Andy B)

Preposterous guffhead Johnny Borrell has denied this week that his piss poor excuse for a band Razorlight are to split. The rumors came after of a rift between Borrell and drummer Andy Burrows led to crisis talks in the band. You really know its time to call it day when even your bandmates reckon you're a tithead of massive proportions. Frankly, the news is a bit of a mixed blessing. On the one hand we wouldn't have to listen to Razorlight's godawful racket anymore. On the other there is the crushing inevitability that Borrell will inflict more of his whinging claptrap on us with a solo career. Sometimes I think this man embarked on a music career solely to annoy me. Perhaps he and Pete Doherty could patch things up after their spat a couple of years ago and form an indie-twat supergroup. Razorshambles? Babylight? The Utter Waste Of Everyone's Time?

S.B.

3 Quick Things!

First off, a Trapped in the Closet update: ifc.com are showing 1 new chapter a day! The run started on Monday so we're already up to Chapter 15. So far highlights include Kelly in a terible old man costume wishing a pigeon would shit on his wife's face and Will Oldham & Principal Blackman from Strangers with Candy playing cops!

go here!

Secondly Comedy Central broadcast their latest celebrity 'roast' on Monday. Following in the footsteps of William Shatner and Pamela Anderson, Public Enemy's Flava Flav took to the throne for some good natured slagging. You can watch each of the 'roasts' here but our favorite has to be Jeffrey Ross (below).

Comedy Central-Flavor Flav Roast-Jeff Ross
Uploaded by Shel18

Turdly, as previously reported, Dan Deacon will be bringing his rainbow of noise to Crawdaddy this Friday! Go, dance, sing, sweat, puke.



- RV.

Jessica Simpson Tops Idiotic List (but not for being an idiot!)

Claiming to be THE source for music 'news', Shoutmouth.com has put together a list of who they claim to be The Hottest Women in Music. Topping the list is aryan dolt-munt Jessispa Simpson, i wasn't even aware she was 'in music'. Other mentally deranged wrong-thoughts include deluded inside-out Praying Mantis Victoria Beckham, dead crow faced Simspon sister Ashlee, and the just plain bet-down Willa Ford, mind-fuckingly enough Nelly Furtado's reddner inducing 'look at me, i'm a sexy yoke now' schtick seems to have paid off aswell. Shoutmouth have set themselves some very stringent rules for this extremely non-vital gurn match: No Oldies! No Kiddies! No Pseudo Musicians! The banning's don't stretch to suicidal maniacs strangely enough.

Most worrying of all are some of the comments that accompany the bletcherous portraits, Kelly Clarkson has been 'hitting the Hagen Dazs', and Jewel 'still needs braces' then why are they on yr lame list? Paedo fantasies also feature sporadicly 'she would make the hottest fake 13-year old ever', 'his little sister is suddenly really hot' and the worst of all? 'Young girls, take note: Anorexia does work!'

The lists not all bad though Cat Power, M.I.A and someone called Katharine McPhee feature but where's stoner-eyed Annie Hardy, foul mouthed opera diva Anna Netrebko and Herman Dune sister Lisa Li-Lund? Where's Lovefoxx? Where's Joanna Newsom? Where's Elliot Gould?

Fux ache.

- RV.

Kasabian vs The Holloways: Somebody Get Me A Gun

(An Idiot From Kasabian)

Ever wondered what sort of chaos would ensue when two astonishingly bad bands clashed egos at 40,000 feet? We here at Gimcrack pride ourselves on bringing you the latest steaming hot piles of gossip straight from the gleaming porcelain toilet bowl that is showbiz.

On a recent flight from Japan to England following a performance at Summer Sonic Festival sub-Libertines shitehawks The Holloways, obviously getting ideas way above their station, blagged their way into the first class section of the plane. This apparently was too much for dance-rock crusaders and all round massive bell-ends Kasabian, who happened to be on the same flight. Deciding that the cheeky London scamps were not proper "rock-stars" (ha!), Tom and the other one got their skinny jeans in a twist and demanded that The Holloways be removed from sight and bundled back to economy class like the thieving little scrubbers they are.

Neither band were available for comment but a passenger had this to say: "It was all out mayhem! The thick looking one from Kasabian was pissed off cos those Holloway boys were having a right old time in first class. They had their guitars out and were strumming along like proper cockney scamps. That's when Tom and Serge from Kasabian got up and demanded they be removed. In fairness to Kasabian, they were working on their latest lame dance-rock, cod-political, face-stabbingly awful album at the time. They had a synthesizer right there on the plane and everything!" My next article will be entitled, If I Were A Suicide Bomber.

S.B.

A big list then some words, made up non-genes, pictures and songs.

Animal Collective, Battles , Parts & Labor, Angels of Light, Dan Deacon, Gowns, Stars of the Lid, No Age, Marnie Stern, Herman Dune, Electrelane, Of Montreal, Deerhoof, Menomena, Dirty Projectors, Trans Am, Do Make Say Think, Times New Viking, Big Business, Mice Parade, Taken by Trees...theres been so many amazing records released this year there's no point in even trying to start considering possibly compiling an end of year top 10. The best thing is, theres more coming! Loads more hopefully, but for now lets have a peek at 4 slabs of happy happy goodness set to lunge into your hearts over the next few weeks.

FOG - DITHERER released August 13th on Lex Records.

Country-indie-pop (coundie-pop? nu-cundy?) with added weird noises from an ex-nerd-hop turntablist and members of Mount Eerie, Why?, Low and many more.

Fog feat Low - What's up Freaks? mp3

Fog myspace

JENS LEKMAN - NIGHT FALLS OVER KORTEDALA released September 5th on Service (EU) and October 9th on Secretly Canadian (US)

Kitten-pillow pop. Super-sensitive songs about love and loneliness that'll make you cry with joy while hugging strangers in the que at yr local breakfast roll shop.

Jens Lekman - A Postcard to Nina mp3

Jens Lekman website

AKRON/FAMILY - LOVE IS SIMPLE released September 9th on Young God Records.

Pure Joy-rock. Possibly the greatest band in the world unleash another helping of hippy chanting, scoodle-wank solo's, tender plea's and anguished screams set to magicdust folk jams for parties on the tops of mountains. L.O.V.E.

Akron/Family - Ed is a Portal mp3

Akron/Family myspace

WHITE RAINBOW - PRISM OF ETERNAL NOW released October 1st on kranky.

Sunshine Drone. A lone man crouching over bucket of crystals shooting pink dolphins out of his guitar. Hippy shit again but so very very good.

White Rainbow - Mystic Prism mp3

White Rainbow myspace

- RV.

Maus: A Survivor's Tale

There are a great many people out there who take a dim view of graphic novels or "comic books". They probably view them as silly escapist fantasies for loser children and obese nerds. Well these people can just fuck right off with their big fat stinking opinions. I challenge anyone to find a more moving or thought provoking piece of art about the Holocaust. There are probably hundreds but that's not the point. The point is with Maus, Art Spiegalman has created a truly original take on a very difficult subject.

First published in 1973, the book tells two stories. Cutting between present day New York and Poland 1945 Spiegalman recounts his father's capture and eventual imprisonment in Auschwitz by the Nazis and the author's own troubled relationship with his father. Spiegalman presents his characters as different types of animals according to nationality or race. Jews, for example, are depicted as mice, Germans as cats, Americans as dogs, Irish as zebras, Norwegians as terrapins and so on.

Not exactly 10 Things I Hate About You I know but the book is beautifully illustrated and in turn moving, horrifying, funny and inspiring. Spiegalman pulls no punches in depicting the Poles as a race capable of acts of great kindness and unspeakable cruelty and the Nazis as extreme dickheads. In 1992 Maus won the Pulitzer Prize and Spiegalman went on to create the Garbage Pail Kids. If that's not a sign of Genius then I don't know what is.

If you don't read this I will come to your house at night and wreck up the place.

S.B.

Dirty Projectors - Rise Above

The Getty Address by New York's Dirty Projectors was one of my bestest albums of 2005, it's choral/orchestral glitchy avant R&B was unlike anything heard before and still continues to surprise. September 11th 2007 sees the release of main man Dave Longstreth's latest DP masterpiece Rise Above. I hate to be the kind of writer (I'm a writer?) who just copy & paste's the press release but this is too good not to regurgitate:

Following the 2006 EP New Attitude, Longstreth went to help his parents move out of the house he grew up in. Among his youthful artifacts was the cassette case from the Black Flag album Damaged. This brought back all sorts of memories – Black Flag was one of Longstreth’s first loves – but the tape itself was missing. So, like the character in the Jorge Luis Borges story “Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote” who sets out to recreate Don Quixote line by line from memory, Longstreth went to the nearest Guitar Center, purchased the cheapest cassette four-track he could find, and embarked on recasting Damaged from memory, without re-listening to a single note or reading any lyrics. The ten songs that make up Rise Above (titled after one of the tracks on Damaged) stem from these four-track demos, recorded at his parents house on an acoustic guitar.

Load of Bollix? It would be if the album wasn't so jaw-droppingly beautiful and uniquely fucked up. Skittering beats? African Hi-life guitar? intricate 3 part girl-boy harmonies? If you haven't guessed already this sounds nothing like Black Flag. Here's the opening track:

Dirty Projectors - What I See mp3

which of course is nothing like:

Black Flag - What I See mp3

and while we're on the subject of Gregg Ginn's Hardcore legends why not watch the poop-inducingly funny video for T.V Party (unfourtunately not reinterpreted on Rise Above):



Rise Above will be released on September 11th on the Dead Oceans Label, please please please don't be silly enough to ignore it.

Dirty Projectors myspace

Dead Oceans

- RV.

Back to Mine 25: Adolf Hitler (-_-)

Semi-popular after hours chill-out comp compilers DMC have hooked a big one for their 25th installment. Ex-Leader of the Nazi Party and all round massive shit Adolf Hitler will follow in the footsteps of other famous evil doers such as Liam Howlett, Faithless and the most villainous of them all The Audio Bullys. The collection will feature the fuhrer's obvious fave's Wagner and Beethoven but also surprising selections from Jewish and Russian composers Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky and Borodin, unsurprisingly "negro swamp music" will not feature.

Full Story

Back to Mine website

- RV.

Lee Hazelwood 1929 - 2007

I know very little about Lee Hazelwood.
So I'm not going to attempt to write an obituary when the interweb has already been filled with more eloquent and touching examples. All I know is that his voice may as well have been God's and he wrote some damn fine songs, like these two.

R.I.P

Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazelwood - Some Velvet Morning mp3

Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazelwood - Ladybird mp3

Lee Hazelwood Fan site

- RV.

Iron & Wine To Play TBMC 27th October 2007

Though he may look like an enormous bearded infant, Sam Beam is one of the most compelling artists to emerge from the contemporary folk scene in the last few years. Hailing from Florida, Beam has quietly been releasing literate, gentle and extremely lovely music under the guise of Iron & Wine since his emergence in 2002.

After catching the attention of Sub Pop honcho Jonathon Poneman with a series of home recorded lo-fi tapes Beam released his debut album, The Creek Drank The Cradle, to widespread critical acclaim. Iron & Wine's second album, 2004's Our Endless Numbered Days, was a studio based affair recorded with a full band. While the increased production values gave rise to a cleaner more polished sound the songs themselves were as intricate and emotional as ever. 2005 saw the release of In The Reins, a collaboration with Arizona based band Calexico. Blending Iron & Wine's graceful melodicism with Calexico's widescreen orchestral grandeur the record garnered many positive reviews and easily stands up beside any of Beam's solo Iron & Wine works.

The band will play Temple Bar Music Centre on Saturday, October 27th as part of their European tour. Expect lots of hugging, weeping and nostalgic reminiscing of lost loves. Not content with being an acomplished musician and gifted songwriter Beam also directs many of the band's own videos. Talented bloody bastard! The one I've posted is for the single Naked As We Came taken from Our Endless Numbered Days. Awww! Doesn't it just make you feel all warm and gooey inside? No? Heartless pricks!

Sub Pop have confirmed the release date of Iron & Wine's third full length album, The Shepard's Dog, as 25th September 2007.

S.B.