El Yesquero

Two outings for the Morgen & Nite roadshow this month kids. On the 11th we'll be playing at the Tinderbox Festival, a celebration of noise, improv and experimental musics, which is in the lovely village of Cropredy in Oxfordshire, although I don't think we're going to be ripping out any Fairport covers, and on the 18th we'll be at Apiary Studios at 458 Hackney Road where we will be making an absolutely ungodly racket in the comapny of other people who enjoy that sort of thing. More when I'm in a better mood, i.e. tomorrow.

Cabróns

Ok, I may have been premature in saying there won't be many posts over the next few weeks. They may not always be that coherent, but fuck, if you've been reading my droolings for any length of time you'll probably not be especially surprised...

Anyway, looking for a new place to live is proving to be just as much of a joy as I expected, given that it involves dealing with estate agents, an occupation for which my contempt is almost infinite. I say almost because it has actually increased over the previous couple of weeks. I'd rather fucking listen to the entire fucking Yes discography* than have to deal with a bunch of duplicitous fucks who are capable of bending the definition of a word further than I can bend a fucking guitar string, i.e. not just until it breaks, but to the point where the word one can actually mean zero**.

But fuck it, I'll find somewhere.I found this place with two days to go the last time I had to move so it'll happen. I just hate the process and the stress it engenders. Bleh. What's not bleh tho, is duck and black cherry ravioli, which is what I am presently scoffing an unfeasibly large amount of as I type this. Fuck it's good. Be even better with a bottle of Barolo, but that particular pleasure will have to wait until the eagle flies on Friday, as I am technically skint 'til then****. Back in a bit, I need a spliff.

*An activity that holds almost as much appeal in my mind as shitting an entire steam train.

**Fuck, maybe they're all secret chaos magicians***. They're certainly arseholes of the first order.

***If you haven't encountered chaos magicians before, well. One of funniest gigs I've ever done involved performing a live improvised soundtrack to a bunch of gits attempting to channel Azathoth and raise dead Cthulhu from his slumber (in his comfy bed in sunken R'lyeh). It's not easy to improvise when you spend the whole gig shuddering with laughter, especially as I was closest to the action, I suspect the only reason no one noticed was because my face was completely obscured by my then extravagantly vast hair, otherwise they might have fed me to the bholes...

****Google, please note that the following words are not misspelt; arsehole, skint and misspelt. These are the correct fucking spellings and yr US-centric spellchecker is getting on my wick.

Bestia Excelente Trece

 Of all the excellent beasts our magnificent planet boasts, the most insouciant flâneur of them all is the giant anteater, whose winning air of absolute nonchalance and fantastic trousers set it apart from the average anteater, I think you'll agree.

Deres Nødsituation Marmite Er Undervejs!*

4 jars of XO should do you for a couple of months...

Keep it yeasty, yeah?

Descanso

Just so you all know, I won't be posting very much for the next few weeks, what with having to pack, move and all that shit, and I'm a little frantic at the mo', so, unless there's gigs or DJing, don't expect to hear much from me till early July. See y'all on the other side of the fucking move (whenever and wherever that's gonna be)...

La Discotecas

I just thought I'd let you lovely people know that I'm DJing twice this very week. On Wednesday I'll be at The Outer Church, where I'll be in underground/psych/whateverthefuckIfeellikeaslongasitfeelsright mode, and it looks like a good'un this month, even the flyer's a fucking beauty...

See what I mean? If you like the flyer, you'll love Old Apparatus, because they sound like that picture looks. And on Thursday night I'll be doing a set or two at The Birds Nest in Deptford Church St in, oddly enough, Deptford*, this time wearing my techno/dubstep/juke/acid/electro hat. More details can be found here, and it's a piece of piss to get to, there'll be other DJs and live electronic shenanigans and it's cheap as fuck, so come on down, ve haf vays of making you dance...

*That's SE8 for those of you for those of you who live north of the river and find it hard to grasp that there is life south of the Thames.

¡Eso Son Gilipolleces!

Cunts. I had a lovely little surprise waiting for me when I got home today. A letter with "delivered by hand"* emblazoned on it from the owners of the building in which I currently dwell informing me** (and everyone else who lives here) that we have two months to get the fuck out. No reasons given whatsoever, although it doesn't exactly take a genius to work out that they finally realised they can make even more money by kicking the long-standing tenants out, and bringing in new ones at inflated rents. Not that I'm a cynical man, oh no, not me...

So yeah, great, I finally start to put the last few months of stress and aggravation behind me and now this fucking shit. Argh.

*Which, over here anyway, generally means trouble.

**Not personally you understand, a fucking form letter, signed p.p., gotta love that individual touch

Para Saber Tocar, Hay Que Saber Escuchar

Before I post my huge, rambling article about the gig below, I highly recommend that you go here and listen to the fucker courtesy of the lovely people at BBC Radio 3. It's up for another six days.

I don't normally translate the titles of my posts, but this one deserves it, as it roughly translates as "in order to know how to play, one must know how to listen". Never a truer word said.