The Day After

Well. That. Is. That.

The tour is dead.

Long live the tour!

The final night was a fukken blast - flowers in the dressing room, three weeks worth of whiskey coming to a head on the final rip through of Boom. Friends old and new. A thing of beauty, killed, so that the next creature could be born.

Heartfelt thanks to The Women: Son Of King Rebel and Mary Turner, you were both brilliant throughout the whole thing, without you I know not what. And a special thank you to the enigmatic Daniel Bristus, who didn’t crash once, drove us around the country, kept us together, and put up with our Special Ways. I was so sad it was all over, and so reticent to drive home last night, I had a drunken rage at the poor boy, which is supposed to be Jeremy’s job. What an emotional rotter I am!

Of course, biggest thanks go to all of you wonderful people who came down to the shows and sang and danced and laughed at my terrible jokes. I love you one and all, and can’t wait to see you again.

Look out for photos, video footage, etc over the coming weeks. If any of you lot recorded anything, send it in, I am making a DVD innit. History will not forget the Akira The Don and The Women tour 2006!

PAX!

Sex City

I knew Sheffield would be awesome. I knew as I saw it had been booked. I am well in tune with things me. I am a conduit. Bbbzzap!

REASONING!

1: I saw my little cousin Lara, who is in rude health and, cleverly enough, studying French and Italian and Spanish at university. The French have six words for “love”, they tell me. Not enough.

2: The opening act, NY electicians Hey Willpower, we hugely entertaining.

3: There were baguettes on our rider.

4: The gig itself was explosive, wet, loud, slick, and as fun as such things get. A dissproportionate number of those in attendance were good-looking, and knew all the words.

5: My DJ set, which took in Narstie, Motley Crue, The Clash, Cyndi Lauper, Benny Benassi, The Smiths, and The ODB, was brilliant. Even the kids who kept being denied their Klaxons requests had it.

6: The fine people off Sheffield: Jon and co, Lauren, Kirsty, Emma, Translucent Matt, Ben, Gemma, Annie and friends, pretty much everone I met. And our bless shy promoter. And the Def Lepard loving sound folk. Big up!

7: Collosal Irony. “You’re the luckiest guy in the world,” noted one finelly-coiffed dude towards the end of the night, as we danced. “You could have anyone you wanted in here.”
Well, I am pretty lucky. I haven’t been locked up for, like, 14 months. But she that I wanted in there was not, in fact, In There, but, to the best of my knowledge, resting in South London. So it goes! So it goes.

And us, we goes to Brighton. It is the last day of the tour.

TIGERS!

What a nightmare Blackberrys are! No one should be able to drunkishly post emotional nonsense to the world at 4am! It is unhealthy! Antisocial even!

Really, one should press delete, but that’s a bit 1984 for me. I’m a Take Me As I Is kindofa dude. And today I is a mess of clashing colours, zipping through England in a metal box through the rain and the sunshine en route to Sheffield, to play The Plug. I just had to make Dan switch Edith Bowman off, she was attepting to ruin my excellent mood with an almost fascinating innanity. Forsooth!

Anyway, we shall chat later, and the meantime, I present to you the acest letter I got yesterday. Forsooth!

Yo Akira,Just Wanted to say, If you could ever make it up to australia for a fewtours, im up for following the band round (Even on foot) to come to seeeveryone, Anyway, The main point of me writing is thisis a thanks and a little history, Well I got Married Recently (illegallyhush hush) to my girl and well, at the wedding we played Oh! what a gloriousthing which is always good, also some of your more Hard core stuff getsher….I get laid heh, So thanks for that. Next of all is your song “Thanks for all the AIDS” made me and a few of my mates donate some cash towardsAIDs Research and FinallyThe Song “The Drinking Song” made me stop abusing alcahol so much (that anda scolding from my wife Alexandra), so thank you for that as well. Anyway Uphere i’d love to see you live in concert and well, that all i have to sayreally, Thank you for your music and thank you for being a celebrity thatisn’t…well…An Ego with an Orbit, also me and my mate “Church” are bigfans and could well do whatever  we can to help out your army down here
Signed,Tim, The 15 year old Invader

Tigers

Right now I should be…

Ah, fuck that.

Right now I should be sat on a stinking nightbus, a comatose, swollen junkie to my left, seeping pus from his bare, fat ankle, and I am.

Tonight myself and my band played an entirely brilliant show in London - joined onstage were we by my old friend Damian, and more recent friends Why Lout?. My little brother was there, as were numerous people of my past, and present. Afterwards, I took a party of some dozen to Trash, a place I used to frequent when I was young and silly, and there I saw folks who once meant so much to me, and now appear like ghosts, wafting sadly, chattering well meaningly enough, but emptilly, in my peripheral vision. And I met people who had been to my shows, and enjoyed them, to whom screech-ed moments of my weird actuallity had communicated. I hung with my brother, and my old friend.

And my friend Luke was there, and we spoke breifly, before I lost him to some bullshit sub-industry chatter. A little before the end of the night, we reconvined, and left together, and before any humanity could pass our lips, he leapt aboard a bus, and was gone.

Lingering, shadow like, at a bus stop, I was momentarily excited by the drillish vibration of my telephone’s text message alert, but it was Luke. And he said,

“Ah, these buses that sweep one home. When will we get a time when yr less eaten by essence of Don and i’m not so gobbled by the work and thinking of the home. I don’t know. For which i am sorry. And feel old.”

And, incensed, shudderish, I replied,

“Essence of Don? Fuck you Luke. I’m sad. Essence of being a person. Fuck you.”

Because it’s true. And I know I haven’t been communicating very well, these past dozen days, or less, or more. But that is because I am sad, despite the fantastic shows, the wonderful people, the lights and the booze and the noise. Folks ask me how the tour has been going. It has been fucking ace. But outside of the tour, I am a human, and the best bit of being that human has been torn from me, and I am sad, and that might be lame, gay, weak, whatever you may wanna call it. It’s OK, I can cope, I’m dope. I spent most of my life being told everything I was, or believed, or wanted, was bullshit, and I wasn’t deterred then, and neither shall I be now.

I should note, at this juncture, since begining this post, I’ve been involved in an altercation with some posh boys who felt it amusing to bear scorn and unkindness on the pussing junkie. And I am now in the flat I pay for, and it is warm. I have to quit smoking again. I have to continue to be. And I will. I am full of love, just like always. Always. Anyone that knows me will tell you that.

London Can You Wait…

Oh, how we love to play the Cardiff Barfly. The soundman is such a G he wears sunglasses in doors because hasn’t slept for a month and makes stuff so loud even deaf ole me can feel it in his ass. Always there are the ingredients for a fine sandwitch on the bar. Always there is a room full of bright, beautiful, bouncing pobl. I go nuts.

Evils supported last night, and played ear shredding post-house from inside a wendy house. He was ace. I played some Chamillionaire and some Billy Joel. Then we did a searlingly visceral gig, in front of friends old and new, and afterwards we were reunited in inebriacy with Martin and Mary and The Goblins and my people B and Wee James who I aint seen in YEARS… Etc am byth. A wonderful night, there will be recorded proof online soon, I am told.

We are on our way to London now, to tear Madamme Jo Jos anew batty hole. Will you join us?

Hurrah!

In case you are unsure, read ye a bit of Dr Adam Walton’s review of the Wrexham show. Forsooth:

This was the best I had seen Akira. Admittedly, it’s only the third time, but each time he gets markedly better. His delivery was sharp and musical. The chemistry between him, Jeres and Mary is so unaffected… in fact, for someone who presents himself in a cartoon fashion - whether via the illustrations on his website, in his videos, or via the peroxide on his bonce - there isn’t an iota of artifice about Akira or his colleagues. They’re the most genuine musicians and orators I I have met. Because they’re not burdened by any need to be cool, or adhere to anyone else’s notions of what might be cool, they fly, they dizzy, they entertain, they amuse and they provoke…
There is an intoxocating confidence about their demeanour and the songs.
Back in the Day was restored to its Proustian, heart-strumming glory. Thanks For All the AIDS made us think and laugh and Oh! provoked a minor bout of dancing.
A man in an Akira t-shirt was pulled onto the stage and Akira placed him on a little stand.
“The world’s smallest catwalk,” said Jeres, and we all laughed.
Then, far too shortly, they were gone. It’s a good strategy to leave us wanting more. I believe that Adam, in the past, has had a tendency to perform whenever anyone was willing to give the organ grinder a ha’penny.
Now you know that it’s he who is thoroughly in control.
Short note to say that Jeres’ solo in Oh! was marvellous and that Mary Turner wiped Winter’s dull, cold ache of forboding and gloom away with her mere presence. When she sang, heaven moved that little bit closer to earth, and that’s one mighty trick if you know how to do it.

Liverpool, Thy Rule


Liverpool was so hardcore it took me till just now to recover, so think yourself lucky if you were there, and weep were you not. That there’s a picture of about a quarter of our rider (and Mary poncing in a mirror), so if you bear in mind that I lurked in that there dressing room of ours for a good few hours prior to the gig while the others went back to the hotel to get ponced, AND I was nice enough to allow Howard Marks to share it with us, well, yeah. All that. Mr Marks, happily DOES always have fine hash on him, and I was clever enough not to smoke too much. However, the proprietors of the Legal Highs stall liked our gig enough to want to chuck free Things down my neck after, so it is no surprise that at 10 am I still hadn’t got back to the hotel to meet the others, and was, in the end, an hour and a half late, for which I must apologise to Tour Manager Dan. And thank my benevolent Liverpudlian hosts. PAX!

Right. Off to Cardiff now. Well, first I must go have some kind of a human encounter. In the raining. Then Cardiff. CARDIFF! Hoo-Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrah!

A Letter From A Person

From: Mark Bell
To: me

someone got shot blog

I had a similar sort of night last saturday, i met up with a friend i’ve known since i was 5 or 6 and he was with a another friend i hadn’t seen for a couple of years, originally i wasn’t planning on staying out too long but we met up with some more people i hadn’t seen in about 4 or 5 years, anyway had a really good time getting reaquainted and we headed to a bit of a cheesy club night where i danced like a madman until i decided it was time i went home. Then on my way out for no reason whatsoever some bloke stood in my way as i was trying to leave and started going on about how greasy my hair was and how i was a dirty hippy etc etc… he had a couple of mates with him and was clearly trying to impress them but i wasn’t in the mood (having been drinking for the past 8 hours) so i just stood and stared straight at him for 5 minutes without blinking while he continued to berate me, eventually i’d had enough and decided i wanted to go home so i bitch slapped him and walked away, i was feeling quite pleased with myself at the time and hopped in a taxi with a really pleasant taxi driver who serenaded me with his singing as he drove me home, anyway i got in, managed to wake my dad up by walking into his room thinking it was the toilet (i’m currently a struggling ‘artist’ with no real source of income, basically without my family i’d probably be homeless) started thinking about the blokes at the club and couldn’t help but feel down about it all and a bit ashamed of myself for reacting. Then in the morning i found out someone had been killed not far from where i was, he’d been out on a night out and was randomly attacked, he was punched once and his brain haemorraged, i couldn’t help but feel bad about it, because for all i know the kid i bitchslapped might have felt like he wanted retribution and decided to take it out on a random stranger he didn’t like the look of. I know that’s probably not the case, and my paranoia was probably getting the best of me, but more often than not the worst things that happen are caused by the most stupid and insignificant events.

Anyway point is (if you managed to actually get through all that bollocks above) you are never alone, people all over the world are experiencing similar emotions and occurances on a regular basis, you have friends all over the world (even if a lot of them are creepy internet friends ; ) ) and if you ever need to get away i’m sure you have a wealth of places to stay. As for being ‘an Akira the Don’ they were wrong you are THE Akira the Don and whether that’s a good or bad thing it doesn’t really matter, you’ll always be Adam beneath that, and the only people who know Adam are your close friends and family (hence why i prefer to call you Akira) Anyway hopefully that makes some sort of sense.

Enjoy the rest of your day…

Sometimes, shit like that - context - helps a whole damn lot, even if you’re all fucked up in the head and acting like a freak.

Now do read this ace lil’ interview with my boy JTWR, henceforth known as Mr Lacey. PAX!

(Photo by Depsoul)

Sleep Magick

Wow, I feel GREAT after my little snooze! We all had a happy sleep in a lovely big room, and awoke blinky eyed like puppies into the Liverpool day. Rah!

We have a lovely, and a little sad, view of the docks.

“50 years ago it would have beena hubbub out there,” said Mary. “There would have so many people, and boats…”

Indeed.

We are off to soundcheck now. It is weird to think that we have to be out of this nice hotel at 1030 and back to silly London. Lame!

But we shall have fun tonight. For we deserve it.

Unexpected Sleep Bonus

Oh boy oh boy! We just checked into our lovely pink hotel in Liverpool! We are all going to bed! Apart from Dan, who’ll only sleep in dressing rooms! Wotta MONG!

Nos da cariads! Woo hoo!

A Big Half Bottle

Iesu Grist! A fine night of revelry was had last night. Big up you Wreck Sam folk and your decent attitudes to Thursday nights. Jeres and I got three or four hours of sleep. My mouth appears to have been nuked. I accidentally started smoking again the other day. It is not big or clever, and it has made my jumper smell. Wah!

We are on our way to Liverpool now. Groooo!

Unexpected Sleep Bonus

Oh boy oh boy! We just checked into our lovely pink hotel in Liverpool! We are all going to bed! Apart from Dan, who’ll only sleep in dressing rooms! Wotta MONG!

Nos da cariads! Woo hoo!

invincible

The yelllow sign said
Any
Veh

ANY
VEH

The gall!

On the motorway, said
Any
Veh

ANY
VEH

I thought

We can go like
Any
Veh

ANY
VEH

At all.

I gotta big up my boy Joe Driscol for putting a fucking massive grin on my face last night. Dude’s show at the Rythm Factory was truly special, Shimmy Ya was amazing, but that New York joint murdered it. Cop dude’s LP, Origin Myths, out next week.

OK player. We’re on the way to Wreck Sam. No sympathy for Sam! Screw Sam. He had it coming.

Deviance

Baby. Just because my living room carpet is a weird tapestry of broken glass and wires and bits of map doesn’t mean last night wasn’t off the hook.

LAST NIGHT WAS OFF THE HOOK!

Oh, I could go into detail. But I’d only make those of you that weren’t there jealous. We’ll wait for Jeres’ tour diary.

Anyway! I have good news.

Mothboy’s seriously, actually, FUCKING brilliant new album is out now. You can read a review here. You can buy it here, and you can listen to a fragment of I Can See Cities, on which I rap, here. I must say, I am immensely proud of that song, it is really quite awesome. The lyrics I will present to you here. I just wrote them out, and amazed at their precience. I wote them at the end of the spring, and now here we are in this winter, and I could have written this last fucking night. Actually Amazing.

I See Cities

My baby’s pure porno
It’s disproportionate
The only time I’m peacefull’s when I’m up inside her neck
The blinds are shut, and if it’s sunny out
I’ll hang a fucking sheet on top
The cracks let through the light
Babe, turn that beeper off
I got this new phone
Rah
That shit goes on the internet
It’s got a qwerty keyboard honey, I can write my days in it
I can hold my gaze in it
It’s kind if like a crystal ball
With which baby I’m in thrall
Into which I so could fall
Call out to me
A claw about your throat
The green light flashes
Illuminates the ceiling and shines a light inside your eyes
How I despise these foul intrusions
I have not learned yet to use illusions
I have just learned force
But I’ll keep inside my thoughts
Pour some sugar on me
If not babe make do with whiskey
Crash the table
Smash the glass
I promise not to be too crass
There’s no such thing as crass
Just
Ass
Bass
Middle
And treble
And giving the devil his due
Knowing me plus you
We’ll crash straight through

My baby sends me letters
But it’s like they don’t exist
She sends me pictures too
I didn’t recognise her
Took me minutes
Funny innit
You said you loved me
I can’t remember
If you’re ugly
Up the contrast
Tell the lies
I can still see in your eyes
So can the wires
So too can the television
Laptop, telephone, Etchasketch
Any vision’s better than the hell I’m seeing currently
That’s why I’d rather you were with me than engaged in courting fucking currency
Let’s just get drunk
Break stuff
Bass funk
Don’t think
Just feel
Don’t talk
Just fuck
And never mind what they’re telling you
Never mind the swine and what they’re selling you

I see cities
Cities see me
I always wanted to be on TV

I see cities
Cities see me
I always wanted to be on TV

One of us knows
Maybe we both do
And if not well someday we should hope to
One step
Two step
Da, da da
One sip
Two sip
Da, da da
It’s more important now than ever to be
Drunk As Fuck
And now we don’t believe in heaven that’s why we’re
Drunk As Fuck
And baby when we get together we get
Drunk As Fuck
And we get
Crunk As Fuck
And we get
Punked to fuck
If you happen to wake up in the porches of the palace
In the green grass of a ditch
If you make yourself sick
Rah, don’t ask me
As the government baby
The wind
The star
The bird
The clock
Ask everything that flees
And everything that groans
Or rolls
Or sings
Ask everything that speaks
Ask the priest
Whose piece shrieks cease
On knees bleed scream or go tell it to the marines
The bee’s knees buckle
Why Lout? scream “bruckle”
Said it before man I don’t know fuck all
I mind what’s mine and I sever on swine
Rah, you picked a fine time to define what’s mine

Bah bah bah!

Get drunk
Mine, yours, rah for the cause
On something
Mine, yours, rah for the cause
Get drunk
Mine, yours, rah for the cause
On something
Mine, yours, rah for the cause

Hubba hubba honey
Hef’s gone so let’s get it on
Said it wrong one time, summer did everyone
It’s the one Donovan
Never mind that man and them
Pick a blam plan and never give a damn again
Let’s go dancing
Naked in the rain
A bit like Yazz said
Thunderstorm
Summertime
Torn among the grass
Getting head under the rainbow
Wow!
Rydw chtin gwybod how dwi’n temlo nawr!
Os ti’n meddwl fel rydw i’n meddwl,
Well!
Dyna ni cariad
Doesn’t really seem so bad
I think I’m on their blindside here
Unless they got their long range on
Calling me a queer
This time last year
Could have never seen it coming
Or becoming
But I never was a see-er
Just a be-er
And now my rent’s in arrears
On the sequel to The Fears

camebrije

rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

rah

Cambridge NOW!

I asked my friend how she was. She replied, “Happy, strong & insanely confused about what to do with all this power invested in me by the Universe. And confusion can’t wriggle its way into a sigil. A sigil for clarity perhaps?”

And I thought, fuck! Why didn’t I think of that?

I don’t think too much though.

Tell you what I do do though - I go to Cambridge to play a gig. NOW! CAMBRIDGE! WE ARE GOING TO SMASH YOUR FACE OFF!

Stokey, I’ll see you at one am. Look after my Smiths records, I only just rediscovered them after all.

PS - Jeres has been on and on about this Chris de Burgh song I have never heard of, and how ace it is. I just copped it. JERES YOU VICIOUS BASTARD! Are you MOCKING ME?

Look really hard at this thing…


…and think of the lushest moment you’ve known. Or just look at it. it’s dope right? OK. Now forget it.

Zap.

Brizzle By Mark

Regarding last night, Mark E, from ireallylovemusic, writes:

“so after many years of following the trials and tribulations of adam aka akira the don, having appeared in his first animated video, being the first to organise an online interview with him as a solo artist, etc etc last night the 2 of us finally met.

when the tour dates were announced i have to admit letting my jaw drop when i spotted bristol academy nov 20th. i mean i knew that adam had an audience, i had heard of the spread of his infamous mixtapes, but damn the academy holds 1600 people, my last adventures to this place were to see sisters of mercy (dreadful - i walked out), suede (the penultimate tour), and the fantastic gorillaz show, so just how would adam manage with such a vast space.

i am really out of touch that much and there is that kind of demand for his rock-n-pop sanctioned hip hop.

the truthful answer is, unfortunately, no.

the gig was situated in the much more suitable bar upstairs (known as academy 2 apparently). i prefer gigs like this, eyeball contact and rumbling sonics.

however, before the beat began there was the small issue of saying hello.

i should state, that i rarely get nervous when meeting new people, i am too old and according to the bands guitarist, jeremy, moody (ha!), to get all tongue tied, but shaking hands with adam and saying ‘long time no see’ will probably go down in history as one of the most stupid things i’ve ever said. adam looked as confused as i very quickly became somewhat concerned about the loss of my own mental ability, but later on i realised that in some ways this is all part of the open heart surgery that takes place on the mans blog, his ongoing exposure of the mechanics of the music industry, meaning prior to the meeting of the palms, i felt as if i knew him, and in some strange twisted bending of the virtual world, felt connected to his love and pain.

thankfully, a quick, lets go to the pub dissipated the moment.

drinks were bought amongst the black leathered up rock fans, (motorhead were playing in a venue not yards from the academy) and we chatted.

covering all manner of things old and new, from the current uk hip hop scene, ice cube vs public enemy, 128 bitrates, even down to choice of producers for the album, all of which proved that adam still loves the music far more than most people who have been sucked into the major label system and spat out at the other end should.

when the time came, i ventured back to the venue and the fun began.

the set was controlled from the ubiquitous laptop, with mary turner adding vocals and the odd keyboard part, and job threatening guitar histrionics from jeremy ‘playlouder’ allen and a backdrop on which the blob character is projected in all manner of politically settings.

the large budget productions funded by interscope thankyou, sounded fantastic with the required volume.

even with the added extras of feedback every time adam tried to go beyond the much needed barrier, meaning that for the 45 minutes he became like a caged animal, preventing him from wandering through the audience as he apparently loves to.

having seen a few live hip hop shows i can safely say that this was the first in which i preferred the live versions over the album, i smiled, i danced a little, and i laughed, and even shouted a strange phrase out loud in a candyman 5 times situation (with reasons to be revealed via the blog in a few days), with adam playing master of ceremonies for all its worth.

the akira the don persona comes into another dimension when faced with a live audience, random madness, tracks stopped midflow, and general rock-n-roll fun filled chaos highlighted when son of king rebel (or jeremy in the real world) mounted the speaker stack, to give it the full on guitar solo pose, albeit in a hunched form due to the low ceiling.

the albums classics, and a few extras besides, were wheeled out, proving that the mans vocal skillz at matching beats and noise to his multilayered rhymes is as solid as you’d expect, and from discussions with tour manager, dan, getting better with each show (this is adams first tour proper), meaning you really should see him now before the rest of the world catches up with the man.

album of the year.

gig of the year.”

And it is very sweet of you to say as much, Mr E. It was a pleasure to meet you too. And the rest of you. Safety in numbers. PAX.

Got Drunk

OMFG: the gig tonight. Oh, but rah, and I did step outside of myself and go deeper than ever I did on that motherfucker. Mary and Jeres, you kept up, safety, I didn’t mean to freak you. People of Brizzle: thanks for taking part in that… Magic…

We are in the car now. Mothboy’s new album is incredible.

X

Brizzle


We are in Brizzle. The Academy. In a room with a hobbit hole for a door. A room full of whiskey and grapes. There is internet. Bananas. Oranges. Strongbow for the Boy Jeres. Rancid were in here yesterday. I can smell them. Amy Winehouse is here tomorrow. I can smell her too. My senses are heightened, you see. I am the Princess And The Pea. You are The Pea. I can feel you, even now. Catch me on the otherside of this bottle, and still I will.

Dan is washing the grapes. They are full of pesticides, apparently. Is nothing sacred?

Yes.

It must be.

Those eyelash mites might disagree mind. Bloody eyelash mites!

Back To Work, Figure I Must Have Been Sleeping

Oh, what dreams did I have last night, when the five or so hours of tossing and turning finally tired me. Such a strane loop of waking into new dreams, such warmth, beauty, hope and sadness. And it was so sad to wake. Into this life.

I have to appologise for all the nonsense, but I am afraid this transpired to be far from the rejuvinative weekend I was looking forward to. I can’t even balance it out with an At Least, because that has yet to transpire. While I did have some things I had thought cement themselves in the abbey of my brainhole, this hardly helps my current predicament.

But I believe that one must sometimes endure these things, to reap the rewards that lie on the other side. And that the thing I am fighting for will be all the greater as a result. I’ve told you before what it is that I believe in. And that stands today, surer than ever.

But I realise that I have not helped myself by ignoring my stomach since Friday afternoon. I shall buy a sandwitch at the next Services and put the shreiking tarpit out of its churning misery.

Indeed. For we are back on the road again. Tonight we play Bristol Accademy. I shall summon up a mighty RAH!

I will.

Valerie 2


I just watched V For Vendetta again.

The first time I saw it, I was a little, just a little, dissapointed.

But this time I saw that it is, in fact, brilliant.

I cried all the way through.
.
When it was done, I put on the lights, and sat at my desk. I had a MySpace message from a 14 year old boy from Leeds called Max. It read,

“I wish i was you =]”

Max looks like the coolest guy in the whole world. So I cried again, and wished I was Max.

Time is freaking me out today. Today doesn’t seem to want to leave. This is the longest day I can remember. I wish I could do something useful with it, but, for once, it seems I cannot.

The Weekend Off

Back on tour we go tomorrow. This will be an odd week. As far as I can tell, we will be driving to the gigs in the day, then driving back in the night. I’m going to download the new Jarvis album then. And pack a book. I need to learn some things.

Jeres, bless him, has written a highly amusing and his-truthfull account of our adventures over the last week. Sample quote:

“Akira rolls in at six in the morning singing and falling over. I fear we may not be able to get him out before check out time. I am indeed correct. I leave the hotel to get some air. Apparently while I’m gone Adam in a bleary-eyed sleep tells the receptionist to fuck off when she phones him to ask him to leave. They try and force us to pay a fiver at reception for being rude, a new law implemented by John Reid I fear. We don’t pay and walk off with all our bags down the hill, though Dan is meant to be meeting us outside the hotel at 12. We skulk back, and Akira sends Dan in to pay the fiver so he can look for Akira’s bankcard that he thinks he might have left in the hotel room. Rather annoyingly just before we get back to the hotel I spot two traffic wardens surrounding a car that I think is ours, and for some reason I think these traffic wardens are police come to arrest us for the errant fiver incident, so quick as a flash I pull my drugs from my right sock and dump them in a wheelie bin. What a paranoid goober.”

Read the whole thing here, you can.

Pax.

Someone Got Shot

She said, “how is it being famous?”

She said a bunch of other stuff as well.

Afterwards, I walked out of the house. I found Mothboy and Jeres in the Auld Shillelagh.

We had a few drinks. They were talking to Australian people.

I left, and walked down Church Street.

Within a few minutes, I bumped into Ceri.

He said, “Tug!”

I said, “Tug!”

About four years ago, I recorded some songs with Ceri, as part of my old band. This one time, we were supporting Public Enemy, in the Millennium Dome. I texted him and told him.

“One day that”ll be you up there tug!”

he replied.

“Believe!”

He was DJing at some place on Stoke Newington High Street.

I hadn’t seen him for four years.

I like Ceri lot.

He inspired me.

So I went with him.

We were greeted by Aleisha from Mis-Teeq and a man I recognised from a while back. We had drinks. I danced to garage and ragga and house music with random asses. I can do that.

It was nice to see Ceri.

I like Ceri. He believed in me. Most other people didn’t.

I snuck away from the asses at Late Time, and waked back to the flat I live in.

But Church Street was covered in Police Line Do Not Cross Tape.

I crossed it.

A Police man started to swear at me, and demanded I call him “Sir”, and say, “please”. He was threatening, and violent.

I refused, so two other Police men ran towards me, and I ran way.

Down some side street, vaguely in the direction of my flat, I chanced upon two boys.

I said, “watch it up there, there are fascists.”

“Some one got shot,” they said.

I said, “They ran at me.”

“Bit of a rock star aren’t you, in your Ferrari tracksuit,” said one.

“Bit of a a Akira The Don,” said the other, sneerishly.

I walked on.

When I got to the next turning, a Police man shouted at me. So I walked another way.

Eventually, I got back to this flat, that I seem to live in.

I don’t like it here, very much.

It reminds me of things.

I wish I wasn’t here.

So I wrote a song.

There are a few things I am good at, now.

Day X

Zef! You fixed the site!

St, sorry, Dr Albarns - you rocked! Yes Boss and Marv are DUMB!

Leicester Charlotte - you are as beautiful as your namesake!

I am having two days off tour in London. Last Night - twixt two am and… um… recently - number amongst the worst hours of my life. This comes from a boy that, on occasion, has been set on fire, stabbed, and slept under benches and spent numerous long weekends in jail.

However!

I take comfort from My Chemical Romance. My friends. And my ever avinit self. I composed two songs today. Booya.

E

T

Fockin

Cetera,

Pax, oh my peoples. Love is love.

Day 8

If one were to take British newspapers seriously today, one would be under the impression that:

Most peadophiles are loners, and should be hunted down like dogs.

Liza Mineli’s ex-husband is a greater danger to the world than Coca Cola, climate change, and George Bush combined.

Women who get drunk deserve to be raped.

Ho! Ho!

It is a rotten world on the newstands.

It is also a rotten day in the middle of England. Fucking it down with rain it is. Ew!

We are playing Leicester’s Charlotte tonight. What a beautiful name!

Day 7: Gash!

New develpments! People of the St Albans area! We are playing your town tonight! The venue is known as The Horn. Get it!

Um, yeah. See, we were in York last night, deviating from our script by supporting Yes Boss. We were particularly excited as Marvin and Jack were meant to be ploaying too. Then we got asked to do tonight with them an all. Two dates with our friends! Fun!

Sadly, however, Marv and co. pulled out. But we had fun with Yes Boss and the seven and a half audience members anyway. And were looking forward to tonight.

!!!!! But !!!!!

Yes Boss have pulled out!

Buggers!

So Akira The Don and The Women will be stepping in, last minute style, to headline the show and bring joy to the people of St Albans (which is but 20 minutes from King’s Cross on a train, and they run till 2am). Come down and use the word “party” as a verb with us!

(Big up the nice big lady in our hotel, and the people of yesterday who came down specially, specially you two who came from Leeds, and the Beard Of Love, whose gift of a mighty doublet I shall rock tonight. Seeme!)

Day 6!

Today i being mary will be writing as adam yesterday drank two whole bottles of whiskey being the silly boy that he sometimes is and now his body is punishing him.

We have had a day off and adam and jeres went to see adam’s dad and drank booze and played table skittles, I saw my cousins and hippy dan saw his brother. We were reunited and played last night in Nottingham there were lots of Akira fans and even though the sound didn’t go to plan everyone loved it. John the promoter was lovely although he really shouldn’t have given Adam the extra bottle of whiskey.

We are now wondering around the beautiful city that is York hippy Dan and Jeres are leading the way for food but with their vegetarian radars Adam and I want meat preferably prepared in a Nando’s style.
Right I’m rambling….

Words from Adam “groo”

Tonight, Midlands

We’re playing nottingham Bar None tonight, just so’s you know.

Zef, fix the gigs listings!

Message from Zef: The listings are fixed : )

Day 4!

Well, the Newcastle show was brilliant, we were well good and the peoples were On It. Big up Dean, Kim the ace soundlady, the fantastically hirsuite dudes who knew all the words, even that verse from Gitmo I spat on Boom and evrybody else cos you were all safe.

Dan went to bed, Mary went for drinks with some family friends, and Jeres and I went in search of booze. We are good at that sort of thing. Actually, we are brilliant at that sort of thing. We found loads of booze! But it WAS a Sunday in Newcastle, so come 1 or so we had run out of booze. Sad! However! Wandering the streets, a tall man shouted the magic question: “are you Akira The Don?” And it transpired I was. And it transpired that HE was Matt from LoveDough, so he took us to his beautiful club and gave us a ton of booze, and entertained us with talk, and a magician, and more booze, oh what fun! I got fucking hammered. Matty Dough is a fucking G!

We left, at the end. What adventures we had! The longest hallway in the world happened to be in our hotel, and was full of Norwigans. That was weird. Anyway. Turns out we woke tour manager Dan up at 4 or something screaming at the television. Jeres was trying to educate me with some rotten show called Dragon’s Den. I was loudly offended and we ruined Dan The Tour Manager’s sleep. He got me back by ruining mine with some cutesy morning phonecall to his lady. Dan The Tour Manager thinks we’re weird cos we don’t fuck with breakfast. I think he’s weird cos he hates Akon and calls him Acorn. Fool!

Day 3!

Middlesbourgh was G-ed up like gangbusters! The Empire, in which we played, was fucking beautiful, the promoters were fucking PROS, we were given a fucking banquet of fruit and sandwitch making materials and drinks and crisps and a toaster and a kettle and cancerous glowsticks what I ate by accident AND whistles! AND a cowbell! The support, Danny Kebabs, were a wonderful gaggle of hardcore canists, who dressed in tights and wigs and played mentalist space boogie and Stars In Their eyes techno. The crowd was good looking and noisy, my band kicked ass, and I was fucking AWESOME!

Yes it is true. What fun. What lawks! Someone payed Sheriff Fatman right before we went on. There was a curtain that revealled us! AND, when we got back to the hotel at 2 or 3 or whatever, the bar was open, and playing Chris de Burgh!

Not only that, but I got to witness Jeres wrapped in toilet roll, wearing a catwoman mask, and shaking his merry tits to the Kaiser Cheifs up on stage with all those mad Kebabs. And poor submissive Mary, who’d been trussed up in sellotape like a fucking hostage. Booya!

We’re on route to Newcastle now, about to see the Angel Of The North. What a good idea touring is! See my horizons expand like Jeremy’s gut!

castell!

“Hello Mr Don,
just wanted to say the newcastle gig was brilliant, you radiated positivityand a smile was soldered to my face, very much looking forward to catchingyou again in York, would’ve said hi but didn’t really have much to say formyself and could see you were busy with the drunkards lol Anyway hope you,Mary and Jeres enjoyed it as much as i did!

Mark”

Day 2

Good morning fam. Today I am deeply disturbed - I was woken at 11 by my merry tour manager Dan amidst a quite awful nightmare. A lot happened, but I suppose the main bit was when, idling at the side of a London street waiting for a friend, I was quite suddenly and violently accosted by a stinking, puss-seeping bum, who on closer inspection turned out to be Paul Simmenon from The Clash. Dude got right up in my face, hissing about some wrong I’d done him… Then he stabbed me. Just like that - snikt! A long, thin blade sunk into my side, easy as the knife through butter.

And lo, it did seem that I would die. I fell to the ground, a thick, waxy, yellow-tinged blood forming about the wound. But somebody came to my rescue. You know who? Druze, my old friend and Crack Village bandmate.

Jeres says I got the Excorsist room.

Last night then: we were put on about 40 minutes before the place closed. There were no monitors. The soundman was lovely but the sound was awful. But we were pritty dope! And it was ace to meet lots of you lot, although I must appologise for the brevity of some of the encounters. And we sold 4 T shirts! Rah!

Anyway. That was then. We have left our strange old hotel, with its fine showers and terrible lifts and haunted excorsist room, and so too Glasgow. We are crossing country, somewhwre in the Lake District. Middlesbrough awaits!

Scatlin

Finally! We are in Glasgow! I liked the journey despite the mad length, it was super pretty, and Dan’s special tour mix CD was great. AND we had an interesting row about religion. Already! Sweet.

So! We just recorded a session for XFM with a super safe man called Stuart, who played us a session he did with Gruff Rhys which was LUSH… We did AIDS, BITD, and a cover of an Adam Green song…

Now we are on route to soundcheck. There was just a really bad Keane song on. Was he REALLY in the Priory for a port addiction?

And We’re Off

I write today from the back seat of a Renaut Scenic, which is hurtling along “the spine of Britian” at a brisk 88 mph. To my left is Jeres’ amp, which houses my copy of The Independent, Martin’s copy of The Curse Of Lono, and assorted sandwitch debris. Over the horizon of the amp young Mary turner drools into a pillow, sleepishly. Up front Jeres sleeping head rolls about, a little like that David Grey fellow’s mid-song. To his right, our tour manager, Dan Bristo, keeps an aspirational moustache aimed straight ahead. Gypsy madness blares tinnily from the speakers. My eyeball hurts me.

This is Akira The Don and The Women on tour. Tonight, Glasgow Arches. See you there!

Let’s All Go To Paraguay!

“The significant problems we face cannot be solved at the same level of thinking we were at when we created them.”
Albert Einstein

Something I never thought I’d see: My album got a 9/10 review at DrownedInSound. RESPECT!

In other news, Jeres and I recorded what we used to call a radio show and now call a podcast, and you can cop it here. Brand new music from Public Enemy, Final Fantasy, The Game, Anthony Thompson, Lil Wayne, ddd… Alice Cooper, Steve Vai, Duff McKagan and Mickey the Motorhead drummer playing The Beatles and a brand new joint from C Da G, AKA De Burgh! Boeth! Boeth!

In other news lots of people still think the US election results will make a difference.

But…

Papa George Bush, I forgot to mention, recently purchased 98,840 acres of land in Paraguay, near the Bolivian/Brazilian border. The story runs pritty deep, and should be read in full here.

The question, though:

Why might the president and his family need a 98.840-acre ranch in Paraguay protected by a semi-secret U.S. military base manned by American troops who have been exempted from war-crimes prosecution by the Paraguyan government?

Jeff Wells writes,

“About a year and a half ago (here and here), I referred to Sun Myung Moon’s purchase of 600,000 hectares of Paraguay’s Chaco for the stated intention of erecting an “ecological paradise.” Moon’s land sits atop the Guarani Aquifer, the Earth’s largest resource of fresh drinking water, and also happens to be an “enormously strategic point in both the narcotics and arms trades,” according to Paraguay’s drug czar from 1976-89. “The available intelligence clearly shows that the Moon sect is involved in both these enterprises.”"

Yo, Papa B! Moonie! How’s about cutting a blonde rappist and his peoples in on a slice of this “ecological paradise”? We could sure use a bit of that untouchable Yankee Military power when the wars you lot are setting up kick off proper! And I always wanted to go to Brazil!

It’s a beautiful day here in Stoke Newington by the way, and the new Take That single is GRAND.

Where’s Bill Hicks When You Need Him?

Wanna know how they stole the 2006 US midterm election elections, way back when? Does it really matter? Because as you so sweetly did vote, Palestinians were murdered by the criminal state of Israel, and any new so-called Democratic Party will do nothing to change that. Remember when Clinton got in, and started bombing Iraq to avenge the alleged assination attempt on the life of papa George Bush? Been listening to Howard “the liberal arm of the Democratic Party” Dean lately?

“The United States, say he, “has to … take a much harder line on Iran and Saudi Arabia because they’re funding terrorism. [President Bush] is beholden to the Saudis and the Iranians.”

Please, please, please stop kidding yourselves that The Democratic Party will save the world. That nanobots will save the world. That Jesus will save the world. Flash Gordon ain’t coming. ONLY YOU CAN SAVE MANKIND.

In other news, there is an interview with me up at PlayLouder (which I am guest editing this week), in which I am not my usual cheery self, conducted on a dark Monday afternoon, as I recall. WHUP!

Two Tour Dates Cancelled

This just in from my agent:

“> As discussed, the Club NME shows in Manchester and Reading, on 9th
> and 22nd Nov respectively, have unfortunately been cancelled. In
> fact, Club NME will no longer be running at all at either of these
> venues with immediate effect. The reason given is that they have
> been badly set up by NME, with low attendances, little local
> promotion and generally bad organisation on the night.”

This SUCKS, I was well looking forward to both of those. Sorry to all who were gonna come. See you next time. Boo.

Fake Beef 2006


So, last night was ACE! Big up Miss OddKidd who was hardcore awesome, the splendiferous Dego Morty Sladey Machine, John on visuals, The Women, and the mighty Why Lout? representing in FULL. We saw jolly good times, AND THE RETURN OF PIXEL!

So, yeah, dope.

Friday in Chester, by the way, was uber-dope also. Adam Walton wrote about it pretty vividly here. Nice one Zef and Co for putting up with Jeres.

In other news, I am in Hip-Hop Connection a lot this month, which readers tell me has caused some debate in the uk hip-hop community. It should be noted, that the “fuck Rodney P” was out of context - I like dude’s records, and respect his achievements. The statement had been preceded by a lenghthy discussion regarding Dr P, Braintax, and other UK Hip-Hop traditionalists’ meanspirited and savage attacks on the 19 year old JTWR when he got signed, and their continued, greeneyeballed slating of Lady Sovereign, a woman who has single handedly dragged the Actual Woman In Rap movement into the now, and opened up huge gaping doors for the UK rap movement. The point being, whether you like the music kids are making now or not, to stand in its way and gripe is despicable. You had your chance to shine, now it is theirs. Their success can only bring further success to the whole scene.

Indeed.

LAUNCH PARTY TONIGHT!

It’s the When We Were Young LAUNCH PARTY TONIGHT!

LIVE sets from
Me and The Women!
Black Piranhas
Miss Oddkid!
Narstie!

DJing from me and Tego!

It’s at The Fly, 36-38 New Oxford St, London, WC1A 1EP.

LATER….

When We Were Young Is Out Now

Repeat:

When We Were Young is out Now.

BUY DIGITAL!

PlayLouder
7Digital
iTunes

BUY PLASTIC!
HMV
Amazon

STEAL FROM VIRGIN!

I shall write some stuff about it all in the morning.

Right now I am fucked.

I go!

OMG

A reader informs me that my album has gone up on iTunes early. You can buy it RIGHT NOW!

Simlarly, it transpires that many of those of you who preordered off of HMV got your on Saturday. Wow.

I got broken today, so I didn’t do any of the things I was supposed to. I feel quite sick and my chest seems to have a football in it. But I did write a power ballad this evening. Which I always wanted to do.

Every rose…

Hell

I had stay up last night, so this afternoon I was tired, and fell into a feverish sleep. Everything was fuzzy, and everything melted.

When I woke up, it was pitch black outside, and a terrorful cacophony of cheap fireworks tore up the air beyond my window. Children squealed. Bang. Bang.

Every explosion felt like a bullet through the heart.

Bang bang.

Bang.

And they still do.

I feel like I have woken up into a nightmare. The heaven I was in before has turned into a hell.

Weak.

HWYL!

Well, I am very tired now, having been doing lots of stuff and having an entirely safe and exceedingly polite S4C camera crew follow me about all day. This involved talking an awful lot of Welsh, which I am not as good at as I’d like to be. BOETH!

Indeed. Was very good. Why Lout? came by to drop verses on a Back In The Day remix. Rehearsed with them and my Women. Tego interviewed me in an amusing manner for Artrocker. I finished that XFM mix.

Chester tomorrow.

Whoo!

Hwyl.

x

When We Were Young # 9 of 11: 1234567

Under Construction

This website is currently under construction, and is live for your convenience. Please be patient and report any errors you may find in the comments.

Zef

the blob

About the Site



Search the Site