I NEED THIS!

See Your Tea, Never Tinker

. . .

 

DIE ANTWOOD DIE!

. . .

 

KING AMONGST ANTS #1 DWIGHT SCHRUTE

NARD STAY HARD WUAR By BIG BABY HEY ZEUS

Well our kid, ah nah nuffin ov thuh context, but ah tell thee, elluva showmun, is that ma lad.  Costoome chenges, dansin, crowd persipi'tayshun.  Ee's a good lad that Nardwaar lad.  Nee doowt. 

MEALZ 4 MEN sei

3.20am Edition. Veggie Satay stir fry and a glassamulk...

ISSUE FOUR

ISSUE FOUR handed out at Nice'N'Sleazys, Glasgow, April 5th 2013.  It was the Casual Sex 'Stroh 80/Soft School' Single Launch Night -You can get yourself a copy of the single at all good music shops and online retailers -  Playing the show were:  Asian Babes, The Amazing Snakeheads & Casual Sex. a night delivered promises.  The FREE poster with this FREE 'zine was this splendid offering:

This issue had pieces (of shit) from K West, Michelle Grevious & Munro P. Shagnasty and another new contributor by the name of Loverman and he was brutally honest observe:

NEW ISSUE! BLESS YOU.

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrright then you humps, Issue 4: The Horror Issue of D For Delinquent will be available to pick up and hold at The Causal Sex Stroh "80"/Soft School Single Launch at Nice 'N' Sleazys, Glasgow.  Playing that night are ASIAN BABES, THE AMAZING SNAKEHEADS & CASUAL SEX.   It's on the 5th of April 2013 and I'd advise you to go if you can, could be the last chance you'll get to see these three bands before everyone jumps on the band wagon and says they saw them first.
Here's a piece that wouldn't fit in/wasn't good enough by Elvis Safety:
>>>

I’ve been asked to write a few words about Alfred Hitchcock’s ‘The Birds’.  I’m not what you would call, qualified to do this, I’ve seen very few films and this is not one of them.  If asked to write about the works of Mathew Broderick there’d be a -AMAZING I’VE JUST CAUGHT A FLY BETWEEN MY THUMB AND FOREFINGER! BITE THE BIG ONE MYAGI! - few more words. 

So having never seen ‘The Birds’ or any other Alfred Hitchcock film I can only imagine what it’s about.  And boy does it sound like the kind of film I’d like.  I’ve heard it’s a horror and rightly so, birds are quite scary especially when they try to blow you while drunk, never mind when they wake up hungover and weepy with make up all over their face, your face, white bedspread and walls.  They can never remember your name –or sometimes their own- but they can always remember that you filmed the previous night’s debauchery and insist on you deleting it.  The human mind is breath taking, annoying but none-the-less breath taking.      

Anyway, to the film! The best bit’s probably near the beginning when Hitchcock is cruising around nondescript suburban Lancashire in his SAAB while drinking Highland Commissioner neat to The Village People’s ‘Sleazy’ tastefully mixed into the background when he gets flagged over by a Myra Hindley-a-like at a bus stop.  A short innuendo fuelled flirtatious chat ensues and what comes natural to an aging yellow teethed man and a woman stranded in the worst area of Great Britain naturally occurs.  A short drive, more elevated dirty-talk, an abandoned Industrial Estate and a breathy clinch.  Ahh Hitchcock, only Hitchcock could leave her at the scene of the rut and absent mindedly forget he’s kept her entire bottom half of clothing and left shoe strewn over his ample back seat.    

I like how his film would push the boundaries of your standard bored middle class sex crazed homemade cinematography.  This Hitchcock blokes appropriating and pastiche-ing his little heart out.   He’s drawn inspiration from such films as Reservoir Dogs, Full Metal Jacket and Scum.   It’s a truly eclectic mix of styles and sexual preference.  Although it has the ability to please everyone that watches it, it’s also his downfall.  It’s just too much of a democracy.  While trying to appeal to a bigger market he’s alienated his loyal and already established fan base.

I’d imagine at this point in his directing, producing and acting career Hitchcock’s at a crossroads.  Carry on in the same way he has, which has earned him his already substantial following, resulting in a personal creative dilemma.   Do what his inspirational heart and aspirational mind are telling him and do what he feels right, risking the alienation of his fan base and the possibility of the greater gain of the mainstream pound.  Like only Hitchcock would do he’s tried to keep everyone happy.  At times it works, yet there is an underlying feeling of him asking everyone to ‘Please, please. please like me’.

I imagine poor Hitchcock’s had a rough time deciding whether to go ahead with this film.  On the whole I think it was the right decision.  He has perhaps received a lot, and I mean a lot of negative feedback from his puritan fans but he’s beautifully slid into the more a lucrative world of thinking men and ironic viewers.  I believe cigars and slaps on the backs should reign down on Mr Alfred Hitchcock for this monumental cinematic effort.   I can only advise ‘The Birds’ to open minded long term fans and first timers. 

BILINGUAL AYY, HE'S BEEN AWAY TOO LONG!

Domingo 23 Diciembre

 

Mañana en la mañana

 

 

“Me - coffee. You - money.”

Oh, yesterday. Maybe I’m lucky to be well and writing now, but even if so, I still feel like pure dogshit off the back of how the day played out. It’s like I’m still hitting the same walls that bruised the sense out of me 5000 miles away. The world ended and I missed it, but I hope that somehow I’ve learned something useful to deal with the new one.

It started well. I rose at madrugada, after a cue from Chang. He’d said that he was too ill to climb la Malinche with Victor the walking guide, but that I could meet him to go. No sign of Victor, so I set off instead to the next hill in view, prepared well with Mariana’s walking boots and wind-resistant jacket. The morning of blithe adventure takes in fields, goats, and a derelict hacienda, with a basement tunnel, and fantasies of finding a casket of Spanish gold beneath the wilderness. There’s also the discovery that Mariana was keeping M$4100 in cash in the jacket pocket - the treasure was right under my nose all along, but it wasn’t mine in the first place. The journey continues, traversing ravines that cry out for the rain to return.

Sweat pouring off me by the time I’m climbing the hill, I jump a fence to the secluded top and spend the afternoon sunbathing on my little mesa… but on the return journey la Malinche appears a lot closer. I send texts to reassure Mariana & Javier that I know where I’m going, but with la Malinche bearing down upon me, and ravines to traverse, I stray off course far enough that I’ve missed Casa Malinche, the neighbouring town, and the road to the highway completely. By dusk, I’m heading to a police inspection station on the highway. The traffic cop comes out and I start hacking out a conversation with him, between my pidgin Spanish and his non-existent English, and he’s got plenty of questions about the hacienda and what I’m doing there, but thankfully I’m too ignorant with the language to tell him much. When I mention getting a taxi to the hacienda, he says it’ll take 3 hours (lie) and that’s when I conceded to call Mariana. She arrives with Marianita 30 minutes later, and I sit silently in the back of the car while a casual interrogation plays out between her and the traffic cop. I can tell he’s getting details off her, and that she’s dealing with him tersely. I apologise on the drive back and then she gives me a roasting, about how the police aren’t the same as in my country, and how crooked they are. She hopes that cop was one of the nice ones, unlike the ones who got away with robbing her brother-in-law’s house a month ago. I hope that the M$20 mordida the traffic cop squeezed out of me before she came was enough to placate him, and keep fresh avarice from descending upon Casa Malinche. He was quite blunt about it, but I never let on that I had 4100 of Mariana’s smackeroos on me, and he thankfully had no pretext or inclination to search me.

 

I felt rotten when returning, on top of being physically spent, so I retired to an epic sulk / sleep. Plenty more to write about my journey, but I still stink and there are perros, perritos and pollos to feed.

 

 

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ TITHER

"A hot priest is hard to find" said every altar boy ever. Look closer boys and you will find him in the world of Hollywood! Where dreams are created and then cruelly snatched away from you. But wank banks are forever, awww Father Caress Me, please come exorcise me soon. I can promise that I will swallow your holy water and will get on my knees and pray to your one true god of Hot Priest. Take ME, why is life so unfair that I can't find a hot priest to bless my sacrament and wash me of my sins. Gonna go on uniformdating.com and trawl for sexy priests but Eric the Midget in Carlisle was on it and I don't really want to go on a date with him in any uniform that he might put on. Can everyone remember the bin video?
Wet knicker rating: 4.5/5

MEALS 4 MEN cinque

Party Edition.  Asda's Smart Price vegetarian microwave large Yorkshire pudding for one & a can of Stella Artois Lager Beer...Actually at a party, extreme cuisine - making the best first impressions...

PISSED JEANS By ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

Well, Well, Well, three ugly mugs and a monumental prick.  THE BEST LINE UP FOR A BAND.  4.5/5 

OOOOOOOOOOFT! FRANCIS TASTIC

This is a humdinger of a site yesiree!

DIRTY LITTLE SLOTS

I LIKE READING, COURSE I DO I'M A GROWN UP, ARE YOU A GROWN UP? I'M A GROWN UP, YOU'RE NOT A GROWN UP, WHEN ARE WE EVER FULLY GROWN? FERRERO ROCKER.

Wish my Dad knew how to use a computer or cared enough to write stories i could read when i'm his age.  Maybe he has and it'll be a pleasant surprise one day... rather that than a secret stash of nazi memrobelia or worse...

WEE DADDY McLUDGIE

WHAAAA?!?!?!! THEY'RE PUTTING MUSIC IN CONSOLE COMPUTER GAMES AND TELEVISION TALK SHOWS? By JACKSON BOLLOCK

Oh hey fellow scene-ster... You watch TV don't you? Of course you do.. I have done some deep research (used a search engine) and found out the name of the song on that new advert everyone's talking about.   It's the epic prog rock sounding Tame Impala 'Elephant'. Now this song is very catchy by the way, but it alone won't save the phone company it's advertising from going under in the near future.  But it does continue the tradition of indie bands who have slipped under most people's radars getting a little attention.  Also check out 'Half Full Glass of Wine' not bad, but most of their stuff belongs in the decade of which it is very heavily influenced.  Some of it sounds like Death from Above 1979, if they slipped into a time warp and emerged all pissed off with the bourgeois establishment or whatever movies have lied to me about what the 60's and 70's stood for. Cos I don't know what the fuck they were all rebelling against or trying to say... Most of the art and music sounds and looks shit to me.  You can tell my Dad played far too much early Genesis in our car when I was growing up...

It's wet outside as I'm sure you've noticed, so like many sad people I have retired to the sofa with an Xbox controller in hand... after playing Fifa 13 for a bit, I noticed some of the background tunes were ear achingly awful... Wretch 32's Blur makes me sad I have an ear canal... seriously, check out the lyrics... The man deserves to have his thumbs drop off so he can't write poison like it again.  That aside there are some bright spots in the smog cloud of shit.  And like in the past, apart from the obvious Kasabian tunes, the latest Fifa game can be a showcase for bands to get played to millions of people, mostly angry boys who spend their time swearing at polygons.

Just take a look at some of the bands who have been introduced to these sweary youths; Crystal Castles and Robert Smith 'Not in Love', Naked and Famous 'Punching in a dream', TV on the Radio, The Vaccines, Group Love, Glasvegas, Two Door Cinema Club and many more.

One last strange modern avenue to getting yourself heard I encountered recently was the Sunday Brunch Playlist.  Highlights from this edition include Stepdad 'Jungles' which is a heavy synth pop fronted by someone who despite looking like he owns a big van with the back lined with tarpaulin, has the most surprising voice.  It's very similar to TV on the Radio, but a bit more dainty... which isn't necessarily a bad thing.  This and Metric 'Speed the Collapse' are the stand out tunes whilst nods should also go to Presets 'Ghosts', Bloc Party 'We are not good people' and even the weird pairing of Gerad Way & Deadmau5 'Professional Griefers' is pretty good.

 

 

Sunday brunch is hangover TV at it's finest. Food, random human interest stories, music and comedy guests and all manner of people flogging some kind of wares. Now first off, the bands who do appear are hardly up and coming, the producers obviously play safe bets and book bands or 'artists' who some people of heard of.

 

A couple of week's ago it was the Courteeners (remember them?) plugging a third album and just generally being the working class heroes they are. But the interesting thing about Sunday Brunch is in and out of the ad breaks are snippets of new music. Some established acts but the majority are new bands middle England do not know exists Like 6 Music for the souls who have dragged their carcasses out of bed on a Sunday morning and want some motivation to cook breakfast.  

Usually its an eclectic mix of boring indie, freaky avant garde pop and established acts who are stuck in creative ruts...This is a couple of weeks ago but Frightened Rabbit 'The Woodpile' - haunting and soulful, Polica 'Dark Star' - fashionable, Ellie Goulding style pop represent the new.  The old are well represented with new tracks from Pearl Jam, Jonny Marr and the new David Bowie track which has caused such a fuss 'cos some sacrilegious folk has dared to say it's a bit shit...oh by the way, have you heard the new Bowie track? Yes it is a bit shit isn't it??

 

But the real reason I wrote this was because of Idles 'Thieves' - Great song, even better facial hair... oh, and because I wanted to say that Tim Lovejoy's smug face fucks me off.. Pull curtain, fade to black..

 

 

MEALS 4 MEN quattro

Here at Meals 4 Men nothing gets us all worked up like a fully functioning, behemoth of a cheese grater...

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ METHERA

Brian Sucks Cox! Ouch, burn, whatever, he's just so nice! and I hate his GCSE science t.v show where I feel like asking Sir if this will be on the exam! Stop being so fucking nice Brian! Stop Smiling at EVERYTHING. Has he never had a bad day? Did his pet rabbit not die of tragic circumstances when he was a child? Has he never had wankst? Everything is just perfect all the time for Dr. Dick isn't it? Stop being so fucking nice! Spit in the streets, call your girlfriend a whore, stop shutting your eyes and turning off the lights during a fuck and actually learn to fuck, Brian! There is no Elvis Presley at all in Brian fucking Cox
Wet knicker rating: 0.1/5

IT'S HAPPENING..HE'S CHANGING...FOR THE BETTER!

Viernes 21 Diciembre

 

Noche

I´m loving how the animals differ in behaviour, especially at close quarters around the hacienda. The pollos are feistier, the pajaros often sleeker, there are lizards living in the sun-baked stone walls, and Che makes a hammock of the canvas bathroom ceiling, where the perros can´t reach. Seeing how they interact with the hacienda - their unnatural habitat - reminds me of how much they make the most of the present, and how much of an asset that is.

Los perros son perros though, and the perritos are typically cute - siblings of the same litter, but already their nascent natures are defining. The tan one is the more benign, and the black one more aggressive, always getting into trouble.

Bodi, el perro hombre, gritas en la noche…

THE BEST MEN ON CHANNEL 4 IN RECENT TIMES. Samuel Witch.

Brendan from Coach Trip, you are less than scum if Brendan doesn't like you.  He teeters on bitchy but that could be his accent.  He's always up for a laugh and i don't think you can find a better person to be stuck on a coach with for eight hours at a time.  A true tea time TV treat. 

Jeffrey from Four Rooms, a no nonsense cockerney dealah.  He's smelt all the bullshit you're trying to serve him before.  He's also come up with my personal fave catchphrase - "Are you a gambling man?" - and always after a kiss from the ladies.  He may not be everybody's cup of chai but I like him, not over the moon about his dedication to the scarf however, but hey, bet there's plenty he dislikes about me and i bet one of those scarfs equates to my monthly... nae annual salary.

Mark from The Hotel, there's some people in the world that are so dateless but just all round nice you can't help but like.  Marky boy here is a prime exhibit.  He's absolutely useless and a bit of a burke but the way he is with his customers is second to none.  He has no judge of character and employs fucktards, but it's only because he can only see the good in them. he's just a bloody nice bloke.  I really like his hair, and blazers on unfashionable men are beyond amazing.       

GOD'S THE NAME INVENTING FACES IS THE GAME. FERRERO ROCKER.

This joke from the hairy-forearmed-one came into mind when I found this site.

YOUR FACE!

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ TAN

I may be trouble but I'm not that bad really. I bring home the bacon, and manage to keep my drug use a secret from family and "friends" but I wish that I had been born as a New York Jewish princess with red hair and made some cool films then fucked it all off for the needle and the damage done. Some of you (the ones above the age of fifteen) may have heard of Natasha Lyonne, okay, she was the sassy one in the first American Pie that actually knew how to fuck, but don't let that put you off. She's as bad as they come. Here is an entry from my wank bank, and my favourite drugged up actress gone wild (Lindsey Lohan doesn't count because she is in no way whatsoever attractive)
Wet Knicker rating: 3/5

MEALS 4 MEN tre

 

Student Edition.  BBQ Beef super noodles, chilli relish and quorn hot dog taco with a side of garlic dough balls and a massive near-frozen Heineken Lager Beer.

YOUTUBE'S ALRIGHT LIKE ISN'T IT? FERRERO ROCKER.

TAKE A DRINK...NAW..GAN OAN, TAKE A DRINK...NAW.. AWW GAN ON YER ONLY SMOKIN' IT. FERRERO ROCKER.

Anyone stuck to their January diet?  If you have and you're about to lag on the old drinking front...have wee goosey gander at this colonial musTARD.

 

What's he doing with the flat alcohol?  Is he drinking it after he's smoked it?  Is that why he seems a bit 14-year-old's-first-sip-of-booze-I'm-soooodrunk towards the end?

I've not really done any research on the interent yet but i'm not convinced this is working.  He should have done some before and after tests and not put any edits in.  That said his crack is probably so bad YOU'D have to go and smoke an exhaust pipe to get through it.  Jeeze you've obviously got fingers, you look it up and or try it and get in touch to prove it works, I've got nothing to prove and nobody that i care about cares if i have a gut.  We've drank booze as a species for so long for a reason, to make people like this guy more bareable or to have an excuse when we've broke a part of him, mental or physical.  CHEERS!

WALTER'S PASTA AIN'T WELTER WEIGHT

Jueves 20 Diciembre

 

Hacienda Malinche, Tlaxcala

I´ve barely seen Javier today and Mariana not at all, so most contact has been with Li & Chang, Carolina, Marianita (eldest daughter, 15 anos), and the dogs & chickens. Work-wise, cleaned all the oil off the window and sorted timber & crockery out of the hacienda´s store, plus a roll of white substance Chang thinks could contain asbestos. I fucking hope not.

Li & Chang have been a godsend food wise. I hope I get to make them some decent pasta before parting ways - the best I can do as yet is the washing-up, in lieu of not having access to ingredients. The hacienda feels completely detached from modern commerce, with no internet or TV to be found. How hard is it gonna be to get pesto in Mexico? The isolation´s affecting my travel plans too - looks like I won´t make Chichen Itza until late Enero with Jay & Kel, so I may have to greet The End Of The World™ from the top of La Malinche instead, and spend Navidad in the hacienda. I´m in danger of getting comfortable here, so I need to further some of my shit tomorrow.

It´s been fun exploring the hacienda grounds, and putting work into making rooms functional. It´s like unearthing a sense of purpose buried in the present, according to a template laid out centuries ago. Having said that, I had a shave this evening on the roof of the semi-derelict church. I´m a little surprised God didn´t kick me off the roof of his house for applying critical thinking in the waning light. I guess he was away on business?

MEALS 4 MEN due

Nice Edition. Bruschetta veggie burger with rocket, garlic and extra virgin olive oil, sliced tomatoes, halloumi cheese on a toasted bun and an ice cold Tennants Lager Beer.

MMM K WEST'S WANK WAREHOUSE ~ YAN

D for Delinquent's Mother Earth, K West, likes the art of self massage... read on...


Everyone knows that being a musician gets you into all the cool parties and easy underwear, but natural talent wets the gusset like nothing else. I used to think that the harmonica was what Bob Dylan used to torture, or what convicts used to sing mournful songs about their past and how they shouldn't of done did what they did. Now I think the harmonica is SEXY. Very few people called Dave are sexy, but this Dave is. I mean, I'd rather take to my bed a beatboxing harmonica bad ass than a cardigan twee pop lover who doesn't/never learnt how to fuck.
Wet Knicker rating: 4/5

WANT

WHALE OIL BEEF OCT

I RECOGNISE THAT! OH HEY, AND THAT, AND THAT X EVERYTHING X FOREVER

This is colourful stuff.  I recently read a good quote from @OverlyManly - "Colours?  You mean those things Gays & Women like?"  Which one are you, ya big gay girl?

BEN FROST

MEALZ 4 MEN uno

D For Delinquent regular Loverman is quite the upcoming Chef.  Look out for his cook book, Meals 4 Men 2 F Women, out in time Xmas 2013!  

 

 

 

 

Eurozone Austerity Edition: Pimento stuffed Olives & a Pint can of Tennants Lager Beer.

HERE'S AN UPDATE! CLASSIC MISTAKE MADE!

Miercoles 19 Diciembre

 

Hacienda Malinche, Tlaxcala

“The riot of flowers is incessant”
Start on a high note to cheer myself up. Left the Mexico City hotel to find last night’s empty, smelly, messy streets now reborn as a full-chat mid-morning market. It’s all on display and all swarming over itself and me, cooking smells, street-corner hollering, every imaginable form of knock-off tat, mopeds nipping between the crowds, plenty of police. Best sight was the guy wheeling his trolley heaped 7-feet-plus with bulky cardboard boxes, with his perrito sat observing on top. Got a little lost but got some croissants (3 times the size of their UK cousins) and a clem for M$1. Found a quiet plaza on a side street to eat them shirtless in the roasting sun, on a bench beside an old church. The doors look thick, and the frame’s clearly high enough to ride a horse through. I put the day’s plans together…

1. get un-lost and back to the Zocalo
2. buy a local SIM card
3. contact Mariana and Javier via internet cafe
4. Get to bus station and ticket to Huamantla

…and including getting eggs on toast with side salad & lemonade, took until 6pm. Would love to do Mexico City again, but without the backpack. One strangely fitting musical moment, hearing the Verve’s Bittersweet Symphony blaring out of a passing car stereo.
“It’s not an adventure until something goes wrong”
After seeing the motorway turn-off sign saying Huamantla, I got off the bus two towns too soon, which had Javier roaming Huamantla and Tlaxcala searching for me, all the while giving them updates on which part of Huamantla I believed I was in. Felt like a right useless shit for not checking with the bus driver when I got off it so eagerly. Still, they’re a friendly and welcoming couple, and even reaching Casa Malinche in the dark, it’s something special. An elegant bed & breakfast hewn from the same base material as Sergio Leone movies, crowned by an ornate belltower, in dusty scrubland. The dormant volcano la Malinche broods in the distance.

http://www.casamalinche.com/

Plenty of adorable animals to be introduced to this morning. 1 gato (Che), 2 perros, 2 perritos, and the most entertaining sight: over a dozen chickens, all far smaller and friendlier than the ones I know. They chirp instead of cluck too. Best part of today was having Emiliano (7) and Carolina (5) balance 7 of them on my outstretched arms and head, at least while not chucking them at me, each other, the other pollos or anything going. There’s also 2 other wwoofers in the room next to mine, Li and Chang, a young couple from Taiwan. Dead nice folk, helped me loads in feeding around the meat, and a welcome contrast to locals. I talk with them in English, but moderate it to keep it in the present tense for their benefit.

Spent over half the day on my first job, fitting a pneumatic arm to one hacienda door. Arduous work, and I doubt the end result will work for long, given how flimsy the door frame is, but I fire on with it because Mariana’s sure it needs done and I don´t want to kick up a fuss about my first job here. Still, after two sulks and much careful screwing, it seems to be working and I fit it to the point of easing pressure in the mechanism so the top of the arm won’t rip off the door frame. And then the arm’s pneumatic valve bursts, pissing stinky oil over the door frame, window and floor every time it’s moved. I fought back tears long enough to remove the top half of the arm, explained it to Mariana (who was understanding about it), made a cup of tea and retired, to write my way out of feeling like a right useless shit once again.

Good day tomorrow please! More chickens!

STOOPIDGES MORE LIKE. FERRERO ROCKER.

Sometimes poor 'creative' divvies get in a little paddy and realise everything's been done before and all they can do is sellotape two previously done things together to make a 'new' thing...other times they just get over it have some fun and play covers!  Here's a fairly decent Iggy & The Stooges Complilation album:

SNOWDONIA - WHAT WOULD THIS RECORD HAVE SOUNDED LIKE IF JOHN CALE HAD HAD SOME SETBACK & CINZIA LA FAUCI & ALBERTO SCOTTI HAD TAKEN HIS PLACE?

WALTER'S A MAN, A LEGEND & SOMEWHERE ELSE IN THE WORLD.

Martes 18 Diciembre

Habitacion 103, Hotel Tuxpan, Mexico City

Landed in Mexico City at 9:30pm, coming in low enough to the roads to see the faces on the street-side billboards on final approach. Funkadelic still reverberating in my ears, walking along the airport strip and

(as I’m typing this, a possum has snuck in through the hostel window and is hiding behind the computer desk)

buy a lush cup of chai from the airport cafe, chuffed with myself to have understood when she asked if I wanted it caliente or freo. Immediately make the mental note to get another cup of this shit when I’m due to fly out, whilst sorting my bags out. There’s a recommended hostel in the rough guide, so I get a Metro ticket and work it like a boss, reaching the Zocalo and a subsiding street party with dry ski slope, street vendors and Mexicans of all ages milling about. The hostel only takes advance bookings, but I get talking to Sergio outside the cathedral - a Chicano traveller with mixed native American / Maya blood - and after some amiable wandering, he helps me find a hotel. Must be a slow night for the sex trade, got a ground floor cut-and-shut room with mirrors above and facing the bed! M$140. Sergio crashed out on the floor and split early the next morning - he said he’s gonna hit Puebla, then Chiapas and the MesoAmerican ciudads next, so I hope to catch up with him around there. Decent guy. Switched-on and exactly the right person for me to have met at the time.
Just read in the rough guide that the Zocalo (meaning plinth) was built on the heart of Tenochtitlan, and masonry for the original church that preceded the cathedral was sourced from the Aztec temple of Hurtzilopotchtli.

(the possum has left the building)

Last night the smell of the streets and sewers reminded me of the insect house roach smell - not pretty, but honest and I like that. Plants grow out of the upper building walls, and with the buildings generally reaching no higher than four storeys, the whole city feels close to the ground. I remember dusk, take-off from Houston was epic, flat horizon, glaring deep colour in the last of the day, and so many lights on the flat Texas floor. Makes me think that America retains some grandeur, and the promise of a road movie waiting to be lived in the expanses between sizzling bulbs.

ST NICOLAS CAVE. FERRERO ROCKER

As usual I'm late on realising things are uber cool so here we go, ten years too late...NICK CAVE:

This last one, anyone else well embarrased for him?  Hardest thing to do EVER, stand infront of a mic in an empty room and perform like you would full of booze with the rest of the band behind you.   Credit where credit is due, he nails it.  All like what, 20 year old of him or whatever.  Here's some funny and cool stuff Krent Able does with the Cave:
K R E N T * A B L E
So aye, better late than never, he's a dude, wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of him mind.

THEY HAVEN'T...THEY HAVE! FREDERICK NICHE.

D for Delinquent homeboys Black Jash have been eager/generous enough to upload some brand new recordings on thier soundcloud: 

B L A C K * J A S H ~ NEW TUNES!

They may not be playing ANYWHERE live for the forseeable, due to lack of demand, but they've still got their heads down and bums up, recording crap nobody wants to hear! Hats off to the Jash!  Keep doing what you're doing boys, eventually the masses will come round.  As NWA said 'Fuck crossing over to them, let them cross over to us'. And they will...at some point...might not be today, might not be tomorrow or ever...but hey as long as you're happy. 
 

ARE WE THERE YET? THE WORLD IS BOWIE MAD.

I've been watching lots of Lost lately.   This seems like a good idea to me:
MARS ONE

IS THIS WHAT THOSE THOUSANDS OF MEDIA STUDIES GRADUATES DO WITH THEIR DEGREES? FERRERO ROCKER.

So pottering around on youtube and subscribing to pages i know i'll regret in a week's time.  Came accross this lot:
THE DIAL
In particular their 'Not Punk Sessions'  Here's my pick of the best:

Forest Gump always wanted a brother.  I know folk with brothers and they don't seem any more functional as adults.  Still, would be nice to be these pair, a down scaled Osmands with considerably less talent.  Fair play though, they're doing something.  From this video alone i can pretty much put money on the fact that me and the drummer would not get on...but hey, the pressure of a camera AND that girl slumped in her chair...who knows, most likely not a fair representation of his personality.

Hi oh! Somebody's seen some footage of John Lydon when he was in the Sex Pistols!  Big shout out for playing thier style of music on metal style guitars.  So aye these guys, in a band and that, well done.

So it seems each town has a group of Media Studies graduates filming the bands the go and see live on nice cameras a la Be Nice To Your Kids:
B N T Y K
Here's the best of those guys's stuff:

Good for them.  Everyone's getting thier itch scratched.  More please. 

THE AMAZING SNAKEHEADS By ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

Third wheel. Been there manys a time. Not out of choice. This is ONE of the main problems i have with this lot. I'm actually a big fan of this three pieces. But these guys...They're a drum & bass band with some sort of addict dragging them down rape alley. If they'd somehow secured Jack White or Bryan Ferry this would be something a real reviewer would write about. But no. Drum & Bass have stuck with this guy...And he sings from his throat. Credit where credit's due, he doesn't play a lot of his throat/guitar over his foot up friends. Sad thing is these two rythmn radicals think he makes it.  For THEIR comitment to a friend THEE Amazing Snakeheads get a high 4/5.
THE AMAZING SNAKEHEADS

Chelsea Wolfe by ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

Jeezalou! Attention seeking goth girl? Is that possible?..Course it is, what am i saying? That's the point in them isn't it? What is it with pronounciation? I can sing AND you can understand what i'm saying, just like my Dad told me to. Are they too feared to say what they want? Don't they understand that 99% of idiots listening to them will never have the balls to do anything more than giggle into a microphone or is the content of thier lyrics THAT embarrasing? Is this black haired bumhead alergic to major/happy chords & notes? Why the pale face Mme Frankenstein?  She's less whiny than the average goff & i imagine we'd have a whirlwind romance after a night of blood drinking in the grave yard so...Chelsea Wolfe gets a 5/5

Can someone be a doll and get me this?

KING KONG OF AN ALARM CLOCK

Take A Worm For A Walk Week R.I.P. by ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

Ha! Krate Kid. Wasn't it great!? Imagine you were an able minded, well read, educated cinema fan when it first came out. Like these guys will never be. Singers are hard to get right...If you can't find a good one...settle for a vocal alcoholic. As the river, so the town T.A.W.F.A.W.W. get a lovely 5/5

Chud R.I.P. by ROGER FROM THE CRYPT.

I'm in a band, just like everybody else, but thank Christ I'm not in this one! They're docile Americans on the crest of some wave that i can neither be fucked nor arsed with. And news just in, they've just split up. Thank Christ! From what I've found on YouTube & Vimeo they seem to have been quite fashion. To their detriment. I would like them if they were wearing fleeces & baggy jeans but sadly no. It's check shirts all round. For shame. These wankers use effect peddles & a more than competent drumming to vomit out left field riff rock. Hold up. Here's the hook. It's quite obvious that these guys...smoke weed! Not only are they mad crazy laugh riot el dude stone heads, I think they drink alcohol & energy drinks at the same time! I think the singer injected a few joints before he recorded the vocals because he's alllike crazy & shouty. I don't know what he's saying, probably something about the munchies. Anyway, things to see & hate, things to do & hate. Imma give Chud 4/5.

Crushed Beaks and Palma Violets - Retro style and Retro Sound by JACKSON BOLLOCK.

So since the music press have finished their end of year retrospectives it's now time to look ahead and deicide who could be 'the sound' of 2013?

Previous industry tips have sometimes succeeded, blowing people out of the water before going on to super-stardom. Some impress in glimpses, maybe having a wonderful first album before taking one musical direction change too far or not progressing far enough. I have many bands which I love(d) who have fallen into one of those categories the most recent being The Vaccines (poor 2nd album.. makes me sad..it really does).  But enough of my tearful reminiscent, the future is here!!! Or rather, the past has returned, repackaged in shiny new boxes in the shape of two bands tipped to make a big splash in 2013.

First up is Crushed Breaks, never heard of them? Why not read this, it's from a proper music journalist:

 

'The London duo appear to have nailed a way of creating an all-consuming mass of noise, rhythm and melody which somehow belies their stripped back set up. With a sizeable clutch of winning, gristly pop songs...Crushed Beaks are ones you should most definitely be watching.''

Jon Hillcock, Clash Magazine

 

High praise indeed, you can find the songs "Breakdown", "Grim", "Close Up's" and "Sun Dog's" on the ol' YouTube and it's a mixed bag in my opinion:

 

 

Where some of the songs have a haunted and soulful quality to them, it sounds too much like a Cold Water Kids style band who went to an English public school and first experienced heartbreak when the families prize gun dog was shot by the eccentric Uncle on mid-summer's evening. When they cut loose (like the final part of "Breakdown" and last year's single "Grim") it has that sound that all the shit indie bands you watched at your local boozer wish they had. Tuneful yet aggressive, with only the fairground organ in the background enabling the songs to stay this side of chirpy.

But is it really anything we haven't heard before? Is it pushing the boundaries far enough? Well for this self-important, avant-garde, Guardian reading ponce....no...not quite. They have been touring and getting notoriety since 2011, but expect a push this year and maybe a new EP.

Moving on to the second band, now you most certainly have heard of Palma Violets... You have? Good.. cos their album '180' is set for a February release and will be bummed the fuck out of by Radio 1 and the NME. Since I stopped reading that shower of shit (when they started featuring Will.i.am and just generally being Smash Hits for indie girls and boys.. When was that?? Oh about 5 years ago..NME rant over) I was surprised to read that Palma Violets song "Best of Friends" had been voted as NME's song of 2012. The BBC put them on their 'sound of 2013' list blah blah fucking blah.

So, ahem, onto the music... I am just going to concentrate on perhaps their two most prominent songs, the aforementioned 'Best of Friends' and new(er) song 'Last of the Summer Wine' and no, that song isn't sampling of old people chasing baths down hills or whatever the fuck used to happen on that show.

'Best Friends' is prob where they first gained the Libertines comparisons as it sounds JUST LIKE THEM. Which isn't holding up Mr Barrett and the well known drug hoover to be original musical genuineness 'cause they weren't. The Who or The Buzzcocks songs played through a drunk guitar does not a modern classic make.

I know lot's of people enjoyed 'Best of Friends' so I gave it a couple of listens, it was dull and had a shouty chorus which I am sure sounds good live but at home just hurt my ears. Hardly ground breaking, maybe a bit fun to shout when your drunk but that's about it.

 

Next 'Last of the Summer Wine'..... and it's title is very apt, it's slow, a bit painful and ultimately worthless... just how I imagine my elderly years will be. At least I'll be deaf then so I won't have to listen to bands like Palmo Violets... re-packaged, UK, paint by numbers rock music.

 

 

 

They'll be big in 2013...and hopefully the album will show they have more depth than the pissy (sorry, shallow) end of the local swimming pool. The End.