1. Robert Mitchum – Julian Cope
2. The Biggest Lie – Elliott Smith
3. Dog On Wheels – Belle And Sebastian
4. Sin City – Flying Burrito Brothers
5. Different Drum – Lemonheads
6. Something Happened To Me Yesterday – Rolling Stones
7. Cut Across Shorty – Eddie Cochran
8. Beat Surrender- The Jam
9. Janie Jones- The Clash
10. Unknown Stuntman – Lee Majors
11. Walk Don’t Run – Herb Alpert And Tijuana Brass
12. Cant Buy Me Love – The Torero Band
13. Tijuana Taxi – Herp Alpert And The Tijuana Brass
14. Golden Retriever- Super Furry Animals
15. First Of The Gang To Die – Mozzer
16. Connection = The Rolling Stones
17. Billericay Dickie – Ian Dury And The Blockheads
18. 24hr Party People - Happy Mondays
19. Love Will Tear Us Apart- Joy Division
20. Guitar Man – Jesus And Mary Chain
The Harbinger part 3
I've been in Australia since we last spoke, and I can assure you that was exciting and modestly extreme. It's always strengthens one to do something involving lengthy travel, a woman and stupidity. And Australia seemed like a fine place. The whole affair has spared me the trouble of my usual melodramatic holiday-search, this year. Instead of jumping on a ferry at Harwich and seeing where I end up, this summer I have decided to see it out in my modest quarters here in London. At this time I am quiescent, lest sporadic manual labour and the odd life-drawing class.
For four hours last Thursday I became a humanitarian vegetarian, pushing aside the sardines on my plate, sating myself merely with the watercress and artichoke hearts. I happened to be fingering a copy of The Idler, and a particularly ingratiating article about 'Buddhism in cold climates' had diverted me. The crux of the piece appeared to be about the feasibility of this most fascinating of religions in temperate parts of the world. Can one accept that all existence is suffering, that the cause of suffering is desire and that freedom from suffering is nirvana when day-in day-out cloud and sodding rain? Is it any wonder we're so alienated as a people, I meditated, a fork limply hanging from my mit.
And it was only the appearance of my acupuncturist Gerry clutching a bottle of good dry Turkish red and a cylinder of Spanish Sausage, round about tea-time that really lapsed my flirtation with vegetarianism. I'm down to half a sugar in my PG in the morning, though.
I think the Buddhist theme is one that becomes hard to shake. A good friend of mine killed himself recently. I'd made him promise that if he ever felt the urge to shuffle anything off he should telephone immediately. If he was to kill himself I was to be present in the room. I'd forced him to agree to this much. He didn't keep to his word unfortunately, choosing instead to leap from the roof of the Ibis hotel in Reading. He left no note.
We were both men who knew depravity and the rules regarding the wearing of tan footwear. He was the type who tried really to rush through life with his head down and his collar turned up, and I rather think he'd prefer to avoid the afterlife, or even what Mr Hendrix described as 'not to die but to be reborn'. He didn't want to be here in the first place.
Who wants to come back as a frog, when the chances are you'll end up in a lab somewhere being thrown bodily against a brick wall by a technician and dunked in acid in order that the boffins can see your spinal cord at work??
I shall miss his intermittent visits to my boudoir, always unannounced, and rarely with very much to say. I would offer him a cup of tea and he would always say, "No thank you, just a cup of boiling water, please." He was fond of hot water, and would try and savour the difference between one cup of water and another. It was rather like having an imaginary friend in some ways. The stillness of the man and his habit of saying nothing further for the rest of his visit was at times quite chilling. It all brought back memories of a childhood imaginary companion I had, who hated me.
No man is an island, entire of itself … any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
I shall endeavour to be at the Pleasure Unit in Bethnal Green at 'The Show' next time round, and I will introduce myself to anybody wearing a desert spoon in their breast pocket. I'm actually having my hair washed that night, but I've recently acquired a Revlon Celeb Hair Stylist dryer, so I shall probably be along without any kind of frizz.
Pip pip
Roger J Harbinger QC Bar (retd.)
Harbinger dispatch is camp x-ray 'APPROVED'. When I was in the RAF we
had a pretty good relationship with the USAAF.
I can remember a conversation I had with a Stealth Bomber Pilot only
very recently, and I said to him "What are you gonna do when this damn
show's over Tiger (a playful name I had for many of the boys in
there)?"
"You can't talk to me that way" he said, "I'm a free American."
Roger J Harbinger QC Bar (retd.)
For four hours last Thursday I became a humanitarian vegetarian, pushing aside the sardines on my plate, sating myself merely with the watercress and artichoke hearts. I happened to be fingering a copy of The Idler, and a particularly ingratiating article about 'Buddhism in cold climates' had diverted me. The crux of the piece appeared to be about the feasibility of this most fascinating of religions in temperate parts of the world. Can one accept that all existence is suffering, that the cause of suffering is desire and that freedom from suffering is nirvana when day-in day-out cloud and sodding rain? Is it any wonder we're so alienated as a people, I meditated, a fork limply hanging from my mit.
And it was only the appearance of my acupuncturist Gerry clutching a bottle of good dry Turkish red and a cylinder of Spanish Sausage, round about tea-time that really lapsed my flirtation with vegetarianism. I'm down to half a sugar in my PG in the morning, though.
I think the Buddhist theme is one that becomes hard to shake. A good friend of mine killed himself recently. I'd made him promise that if he ever felt the urge to shuffle anything off he should telephone immediately. If he was to kill himself I was to be present in the room. I'd forced him to agree to this much. He didn't keep to his word unfortunately, choosing instead to leap from the roof of the Ibis hotel in Reading. He left no note.
We were both men who knew depravity and the rules regarding the wearing of tan footwear. He was the type who tried really to rush through life with his head down and his collar turned up, and I rather think he'd prefer to avoid the afterlife, or even what Mr Hendrix described as 'not to die but to be reborn'. He didn't want to be here in the first place.
Who wants to come back as a frog, when the chances are you'll end up in a lab somewhere being thrown bodily against a brick wall by a technician and dunked in acid in order that the boffins can see your spinal cord at work??
I shall miss his intermittent visits to my boudoir, always unannounced, and rarely with very much to say. I would offer him a cup of tea and he would always say, "No thank you, just a cup of boiling water, please." He was fond of hot water, and would try and savour the difference between one cup of water and another. It was rather like having an imaginary friend in some ways. The stillness of the man and his habit of saying nothing further for the rest of his visit was at times quite chilling. It all brought back memories of a childhood imaginary companion I had, who hated me.
No man is an island, entire of itself … any man's death diminishes me because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
I shall endeavour to be at the Pleasure Unit in Bethnal Green at 'The Show' next time round, and I will introduce myself to anybody wearing a desert spoon in their breast pocket. I'm actually having my hair washed that night, but I've recently acquired a Revlon Celeb Hair Stylist dryer, so I shall probably be along without any kind of frizz.
Pip pip
Roger J Harbinger QC Bar (retd.)
Harbinger dispatch is camp x-ray 'APPROVED'. When I was in the RAF we
had a pretty good relationship with the USAAF.
I can remember a conversation I had with a Stealth Bomber Pilot only
very recently, and I said to him "What are you gonna do when this damn
show's over Tiger (a playful name I had for many of the boys in
there)?"
"You can't talk to me that way" he said, "I'm a free American."
Roger J Harbinger QC Bar (retd.)
The Show June 2004
Lark
I would have never believed that this was only Larks 3rd gig. You probably don't believe me now when you read this.
Lark very like Dennis Hoppers Choppers (who, if you missed in January- shame on you, but as we are such nice people you will get another chance to see them at the July special), have the same musical menace about them. They sound like you are in the wrong pub, in the wrong part of town and you have just spilt the wrong pint. Musically they look (as do Dennis Hoppers Choppers), like they drink in that pub as well, (they don't, they are all nice people, honest), there is, however still an element of 'nervous tension' about them. Encapsulating some of the best bits of Babybird (NOT 'You're Gorgeous'), Tom Waites and elements of The Fall this was a measured and sublime performance from Lark. Containing short instrumental tracks between full songs that stood, not as fillers, but to maintain and enhance the overall feeling of the set. Lead singer Karl even managed to pull of some nice Mozzer poses as well. Top. If you missed them; you mug, now don't do it again!
On the other hand the intriguing 'Paloma and the Penetrators', (far from being the all girl band as misinformed by my erstwhile colleague, apologies here for that), were the exact opposite. Watching `the Penetrators has all the joyous carefree abandon of drinking cheap martini at a party and getting your hand up a girls / boys, (delete as appropriate), jumper at the age of 15, (actually that sounds good to me now), they blazed through a set of cover versions of pre 1962 material succeeding in making incredibly famous songs such as 'twist and shout' all their own. Some feat. They're two pronged attack on the front of the stage and the multi layered harmonies had the whole audience on their feet dancing. Brilliant. The best I've ever seen them play, which is nice for you, lucky 'Show' punters.
All this and Paul Doc, big brother of show dj-meister Jim, who had the crowd going buck wild with a full set of some of the finest tunes to grace any decks around the country. A master class so good he was begged to support both Paloma and Vincent Vincent and The Villans at all their future gigs. Enough said, a set list is promised by the man himself.
Be looking out for a Doc v Doc djing set at the show very soon. My ears are watering at the prospect, if they can do that……. Actually, I'm off to the doctors.
pb
I would have never believed that this was only Larks 3rd gig. You probably don't believe me now when you read this.
Lark very like Dennis Hoppers Choppers (who, if you missed in January- shame on you, but as we are such nice people you will get another chance to see them at the July special), have the same musical menace about them. They sound like you are in the wrong pub, in the wrong part of town and you have just spilt the wrong pint. Musically they look (as do Dennis Hoppers Choppers), like they drink in that pub as well, (they don't, they are all nice people, honest), there is, however still an element of 'nervous tension' about them. Encapsulating some of the best bits of Babybird (NOT 'You're Gorgeous'), Tom Waites and elements of The Fall this was a measured and sublime performance from Lark. Containing short instrumental tracks between full songs that stood, not as fillers, but to maintain and enhance the overall feeling of the set. Lead singer Karl even managed to pull of some nice Mozzer poses as well. Top. If you missed them; you mug, now don't do it again!
On the other hand the intriguing 'Paloma and the Penetrators', (far from being the all girl band as misinformed by my erstwhile colleague, apologies here for that), were the exact opposite. Watching `the Penetrators has all the joyous carefree abandon of drinking cheap martini at a party and getting your hand up a girls / boys, (delete as appropriate), jumper at the age of 15, (actually that sounds good to me now), they blazed through a set of cover versions of pre 1962 material succeeding in making incredibly famous songs such as 'twist and shout' all their own. Some feat. They're two pronged attack on the front of the stage and the multi layered harmonies had the whole audience on their feet dancing. Brilliant. The best I've ever seen them play, which is nice for you, lucky 'Show' punters.
All this and Paul Doc, big brother of show dj-meister Jim, who had the crowd going buck wild with a full set of some of the finest tunes to grace any decks around the country. A master class so good he was begged to support both Paloma and Vincent Vincent and The Villans at all their future gigs. Enough said, a set list is promised by the man himself.
Be looking out for a Doc v Doc djing set at the show very soon. My ears are watering at the prospect, if they can do that……. Actually, I'm off to the doctors.
pb
Kid Kordial At The Pleasure Unit June 2004
ruby don't take your love to town - kenny rogers
pass it on - the coral
dead flowers - the rolling stones
happy place- the jesus and mary chain
last gang in town - the clash
eardrum buzz - wire
soldier girl - the polyphonic spree
40 - franz ferdinand
tijuana taxi - herb alpert and the tijuana brass
songs of love - the divine comedy.
pass it on - the coral
dead flowers - the rolling stones
happy place- the jesus and mary chain
last gang in town - the clash
eardrum buzz - wire
soldier girl - the polyphonic spree
40 - franz ferdinand
tijuana taxi - herb alpert and the tijuana brass
songs of love - the divine comedy.
Patrick Kagoul Notes from the Frontline Part 7
Get me to the church on time………….
Well as you read this I am probably on my way to get hitched. Yes there will soon be a Mrs Kagoul. Shocked? Me too, but I'll explain, or try.
I have a friend that I know, biblically, that is about to be kicked out of the country. She of course, wants to stay. Now the only way that she can achieve this is, yep, you guessed, she needs to be British and she isn't. Now this isn't the ideal scenario that I dreamed of throughout life but……it serves a purpose and it helps out a friend. I'm also at that age where everyone I know seems to be getting married and settled down so why not me? Just because I can't manage to get a girlfriend isn't my fault, well I suppose it is but I've tried absolutely nothing and I'm all out of ideas. Seems like if I want to keep up with the 'Naylor's' then I may have to cheat a bit.
I had hoped that I would marry for love and I have managed to have 3 serious relationships, 2 of which with people I would have married, but they have gone wrong (the girls, not the relationships) I have tried, and regular readers will know this, to get in touch with these people. I have sent emails to both of them and neither of them has replied. Now this is the thing that I always find so odd, how two people can be so close that you could appear on Mastermind with that person's life as your specialist subject and then something happens and you never speak or see each other again? I think that this is wrong, but I tried and no response, obviously I'll be sending a copy of this column to them.
So what about my future bride, just who is the 'lucky' lady? Well she has slept with two of my mates, so obviously this narrows down the choice for best man. I don't want this to be too much of a literal title. Hey, it wasn't my fault I was very drunk, I can do better. And on the down side she is Australian. I know I'm painting a bad picture, but on the plus side she is nice, we do get on really well we have a lot of fun, she really likes my friends - actually scrap that one - but she's, well I dunno, she's everything I look for in a woman. Desperate to do exactly what I want and not make my life a misery or I'll turn her over to the authorities. So you see we make the perfect couple. It's a match made in well, somewhere.
So feel free to send in your congratulations and also some presents. We, unlike most couples do not own a toaster, actually she might I have no idea, what I don't want is any fecking vegemite or any of that Australian palaver, as she now needs to be British then she will have to denounce all this in a ceremonial Kylie Minge record burning and some chips and gravy or something in the rain to prove her love for her new country.
Right now where did I put that top hat?
Well as you read this I am probably on my way to get hitched. Yes there will soon be a Mrs Kagoul. Shocked? Me too, but I'll explain, or try.
I have a friend that I know, biblically, that is about to be kicked out of the country. She of course, wants to stay. Now the only way that she can achieve this is, yep, you guessed, she needs to be British and she isn't. Now this isn't the ideal scenario that I dreamed of throughout life but……it serves a purpose and it helps out a friend. I'm also at that age where everyone I know seems to be getting married and settled down so why not me? Just because I can't manage to get a girlfriend isn't my fault, well I suppose it is but I've tried absolutely nothing and I'm all out of ideas. Seems like if I want to keep up with the 'Naylor's' then I may have to cheat a bit.
I had hoped that I would marry for love and I have managed to have 3 serious relationships, 2 of which with people I would have married, but they have gone wrong (the girls, not the relationships) I have tried, and regular readers will know this, to get in touch with these people. I have sent emails to both of them and neither of them has replied. Now this is the thing that I always find so odd, how two people can be so close that you could appear on Mastermind with that person's life as your specialist subject and then something happens and you never speak or see each other again? I think that this is wrong, but I tried and no response, obviously I'll be sending a copy of this column to them.
So what about my future bride, just who is the 'lucky' lady? Well she has slept with two of my mates, so obviously this narrows down the choice for best man. I don't want this to be too much of a literal title. Hey, it wasn't my fault I was very drunk, I can do better. And on the down side she is Australian. I know I'm painting a bad picture, but on the plus side she is nice, we do get on really well we have a lot of fun, she really likes my friends - actually scrap that one - but she's, well I dunno, she's everything I look for in a woman. Desperate to do exactly what I want and not make my life a misery or I'll turn her over to the authorities. So you see we make the perfect couple. It's a match made in well, somewhere.
So feel free to send in your congratulations and also some presents. We, unlike most couples do not own a toaster, actually she might I have no idea, what I don't want is any fecking vegemite or any of that Australian palaver, as she now needs to be British then she will have to denounce all this in a ceremonial Kylie Minge record burning and some chips and gravy or something in the rain to prove her love for her new country.
Right now where did I put that top hat?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)