The 50 Most Loathsome People 0f 2007!

From http://www.buffalobeast.com/122/50mostloathsome2007.html

In at #9: YOU!!!

Charges: You believe in freedom of speech, until someone says something that offends you. You suddenly give a damn about border integrity, because the automated voice system at your pharmacy asked you to press 9 for Spanish. You cling to every scrap of bullshit you can find to support your ludicrous belief system, and reject all empirical evidence to the contrary. You know the difference between patriotism and nationalism — it’s nationalism when foreigners do it. You hate anyone who seems smarter than you. You care more about zygotes than actual people. You love to blame people for their misfortunes, even if it means screwing yourself over. You still think Republicans favor limited government. Your knowledge of politics and government are dwarfed by your concern for Britney Spears’ children. You think buying Chinese goods stimulates our economy. You think you’re going to get universal health care. You tolerate the phrase “enhanced interrogation techniques.” You think the government is actually trying to improve education. You think watching CNN makes you smarter. You think two parties is enough. You can’t spell. You think $9 trillion in debt is manageable. You believe in an afterlife for the sole reason that you don’t want to die. You think lowering taxes raises revenue. You think the economy’s doing well. You’re an idiot.

Exhibit A: You couldn’t get enough Anna Nicole Smith coverage.

Sentence: A gradual decline into abject poverty as you continue to vote against your own self-interest. Death by an easily treated disorder that your health insurance doesn’t cover. You deserve it, chump.

BONUS: http://www.thebricktestament.com/

Who Killed Benazir Bhutto?

From The Independent:

Robert Fisk: They don’t blame al-Qa’ida. They blame Musharraf
Published: 29 December 2007

Weird, isn’t it, how swiftly the narrative is laid down for us. Benazir Bhutto, the courageous leader of the Pakistan People’s Party, is assassinated in Rawalpindi – attached to the very capital of Islamabad wherein ex-General Pervez Musharraf lives – and we are told by George Bush that her murderers were “extremists” and “terrorists“. Well, you can’t dispute that.

But the implication of the Bush comment was that Islamists were behind the assassination. It was the Taliban madmen again, the al-Qa’ida spider who struck at this lone and brave woman who had dared to call for democracy in her country.

Of course, given the childish coverage of this appalling tragedy – and however corrupt Ms Bhutto may have been, let us be under no illusions that this brave lady is indeed a true martyr – it’s not surprising that the “good-versus-evil” donkey can be trotted out to explain the carnage in Rawalpindi.

Who would have imagined, watching the BBC or CNN on Thursday, that her two brothers, Murtaza and Shahnawaz, hijacked a Pakistani airliner in 1981 and flew it to Kabul where Murtaza demanded the release of political prisoners in Pakistan. Here, a military officer on the plane was murdered. There were Americans aboard the flight – which is probably why the prisoners were indeed released.

Only a few days ago – in one of the most remarkable (but typically unrecognised) scoops of the year – Tariq Ali published a brilliant dissection of Pakistan (and Bhutto) corruption in the London Review of Books, focusing on Benazir and headlined: “Daughter of the West”. In fact, the article was on my desk to photocopy as its subject was being murdered in Rawalpindi.

Towards the end of this report, Tariq Ali dwelt at length on the subsequent murder of Murtaza Bhutto by police close to his home at a time when Benazir was prime minister – and at a time when Benazir was enraged at Murtaza for demanding a return to PPP values and for condemning Benazir’s appointment of her own husband as minister for industry, a highly lucrative post.

In a passage which may yet be applied to the aftermath of Benazir’s murder, the report continues: “The fatal bullet had been fired at close range. The trap had been carefully laid, but, as is the way in Pakistan, the crudeness of the operation – false entries in police log-books, lost evidence, witnesses arrested and intimidated – a policeman killed who they feared might talk – made it obvious that the decision to execute the prime minister’s brother had been taken at a very high level.

When Murtaza’s 14-year-old daughter, Fatima, rang her aunt Benazir to ask why witnesses were being arrested – rather than her father’s killers – she says Benazir told her: “Look, you’re very young. You don’t understand things.” Or so Tariq Ali’s exposé would have us believe. Over all this, however, looms the shocking power of Pakistan’s ISI, the Inter Services Intelligence.

This vast institution – corrupt, venal and brutal – works for Musharraf.

But it also worked – and still works – for the Taliban. It also works for the Americans. In fact, it works for everybody. But it is the key which Musharraf can use to open talks with America’s enemies when he feels threatened or wants to put pressure on Afghanistan or wants to appease the ” extremists” and “terrorists” who so oppress George Bush. And let us remember, by the way, that Daniel Pearl, the Wall Street Journal reporter beheaded by his Islamist captors in Karachi, actually made his fatal appointment with his future murderers from an ISI commander’s office. Ahmed Rashid’s book Taliban provides riveting proof of the ISI’s web of corruption and violence. Read it, and all of the above makes more sense.

But back to the official narrative. George Bush announced on Thursday he was “looking forward” to talking to his old friend Musharraf. Of course, they would talk about Benazir. They certainly would not talk about the fact that Musharraf continues to protect his old acquaintance – a certain Mr Khan – who supplied all Pakistan’s nuclear secrets to Libya and Iran. No, let’s not bring that bit of the “axis of evil” into this.

So, of course, we were asked to concentrate once more on all those ” extremists” and “terrorists”, not on the logic of questioning which many Pakistanis were feeling their way through in the aftermath of Benazir’s assassination.

It doesn’t, after all, take much to comprehend that the hated elections looming over Musharraf would probably be postponed indefinitely if his principal political opponent happened to be liquidated before polling day.

So let’s run through this logic in the way that Inspector Ian Blair might have done in his policeman’s notebook before he became the top cop in London.

Question: Who forced Benazir Bhutto to stay in London and tried to prevent her return to Pakistan? Answer: General Musharraf.

Question: Who ordered the arrest of thousands of Benazir’s supporters this month? Answer: General Musharraf.

Question: Who placed Benazir under temporary house arrest this month? Answer: General Musharraf.

Question: Who declared martial law this month? Answer General Musharraf.

Question: who killed Benazir Bhutto?

Er. Yes. Well quite.

You see the problem? Yesterday, our television warriors informed us the PPP members shouting that Musharraf was a “murderer” were complaining he had not provided sufficient security for Benazir. Wrong. They were shouting this because they believe he killed her.

Kids On Quad Bikes

Ho ho ho! I have been the recepient of a festive mancold. GROO! My head is full of snot.

Today has been kind of weird given the old man went out leaving the telly stuck on Sky News, and we couldn’t suss out how to change the channel, so we had to watch the Murdoch take on Benazir Bhutto’s death. Immediate assesment: al CIAeda did it.

The news is unbeliveably dumb. War On Terror blah blah blah. Boxing day shoppers rushed to hospital. Children die in quad bike collisions.

What the fuck was a seven year old doing driving a fucking quad bike? Jesus Christ!

HO HO HO!

MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY! MERRY! HAPPY!

YES!

Merry Happy to one and all!

I am a merry happy boy, I got some nutbar manga lego and a zoot suit and all manner of earthly delights, I am COOL.

I shall take photos of the lego later cos it is so gangsta. If you got gangsta lego, do similar. otherwise, don’t worry, there’s always next year!

Someone Set Fire To Kate Nash and Jack Penate, It Would Be A Service To Mankind

Merry happy funstackers, I am on TOUR!

Yes, if you are one of my, or my fine lady’s parent’s, or possibly sisters, i shall be visiting you at some point over the next week. In fact, I may have already done just that! At some point over the past few days! For, already, this tour is a thing I am UPON! WITHIN! DOING!

Yes indeed. Christmas is a time to stop making songs all day and go and see the people that gave you pie when you weren’t old enough to make/steal your own pie. Hallelujah!

We listened to Radio 1 for, like, 7 hours yesterday, driving to and from Devon. MY GOD! Modern pop musci is pretty fucking dreadful. I have managed to avoid a great deal of it this year, and for that I am thankful. But good God! Have you ever listened to Dick And Dom? Or the new Kate Nash single? Or Jack Penate? The ENEMY?!?!?!?!?! Where do they find these rotten fuckwits? Who writes their material? Bad seventies comedians? Listening to modern pop radio is like going back to the days of Smashie and Nicey, only someone let of some kind of Ultra Bland nuke thingie and the Bland Fallout has ruined everything and made it slightly sinister and gross. In 2000 and 8 I am coming back to SAVE POP MUSIC, and that is my solemn promise to YOU, my favourite people in the world.

Aslo - if anyone was listening to Radio 1 last night, when the great Annie Mac is usually on, (last night it was an amusing dude from Manchester, who put a very brave face on the crap they made him play most of the time) who the hell was that awful fuckwit ruining Fairytale Of New York with his stomach-wrenchingy Ronan Keating-esque foul whine of a voice? And where does he live? I have a cotdang FOOT to stick right up his raggedy ASS!

The Gift That Keeps Giving

New video from SFA. Watch it all the way through. It is fucking hardcore.

Blog Entry # 1001

Watch The Simpsons 1909 Eternal Moonshine of the Simpson Mind Online Here!

Eternal Moonshine of the Simpson Mind: awesomeness.

Meltdown


WE THE BEST!

WHO?

WE FIGGA!

WE THE BEEEEEEST!

Sometimes I kinda wish I had DJ Khaled following me around shouting. Sometimes I think that might suck a bit. HAHA!

Anyway. Last night was ace. Big up The Crimea, Katy Karr, everyone who came down (word up Mary’s parents!), and my awesome band, especially James, as it was his first gig (and first time on a stage in three years). I had a wicked time. Especially ace was our cover of Fairytale Of New York, and doing Loop A Loop with The Crimea, that sounded ace.

I have decided - I definitely need a bassist and a drummer. Any ideas?

Anyway. In other news, speedy people can download a free copy of Little Man’s new mixtape here - it’s out on CD in January. Cop preview tracks here. If you ain’t aware, we recorded most of this mixtape here at Don Studios. And it is Great. So there.

T Of The Year!

Ts In!

And out!

All orders have now been sent. Once again we have been victims of the ineptitude of the delivery services. But, just in time for Xmas, ATD15 shirts are In The House. Aint they purdy?

Hey, last night we reacquainted ourselves with The Flintstones. I suggest you do similar, that stuff is classic. WIIIIILMA! Boy oh boy.

ACOUSTICA!

LIVE! UNPLUGGED! AKIRA THE DON AND THE WOMEN SUPPORT THE CRIMEA AT LONDON’S BUSH HALL!

This is a turn up for the books eh? NO LAPTOP!

NEXT TUESDAY, DECEMBER 18th!

Wow, scared!

We’re Off

So, I went to Hastings yesterday, to do my first day of record for LP2 with Dr Stephen Hague. We recorded vocals for a song called I Am Not Dead (Yeah!), that a few of you might have caught live at the last few gigs.

Dr Hague lives in a gigantic white house up a hill overlooking the ocean with his fine woman, some cats, and a relatively well behaved greyhound. You can see France from his studio window on clear days. That is how to live! You know what can see out of my window right now? An old man stealing oranges from the Turkish shop over the road that has the rudest female staff I have ever encountered. Actually, it’s not so bad. I realised the other day I spend most of my days in a converted attic. Which is something I really wanted to do when I was about six.

Careful what you wish for, children…

Oh, if you get a sec, vote for my boy Marv The Marsh’s new single over at MTV Bass.

Drowning

So, I met the new goblin. Pretty awesome! Eyes on the little bugger! Nuts!

Indeed. Got myself a nasty headache which lingers still to boot. I am lucky. The train stopped working on the way back from Cardiff - or at least, it’s central-locking doors all did, so we got chucked out on a tony platform and abandoned.

We got back eventually.

But still.

Always I did worry about that central-locking.

So. I quit fags again today. Don’t give me any fags! Please!

Wah.

What The Hell Is The MDA…

…and what is the MDA Senior Management Rap?

All I know is its some company from Singapore’s upper echelons starring in a relatively expensive looking rap video, with a hook lifted from a classic KRS joint, and a beat “inspired” by the good Dr Dre.

A blogger from Singapore writes,

“I don’t know who is KRS-One. But saw this video clip on one of the forum. I’m sure the chorus sound familiar to you. I bet that horrible rap [MDA’s] is still repeating itself in your head… don’t worry. This video clip is by a professional rapper. Although I don’t really know how to enjoy rap music, but it sounds a lot better that the MDA rap. (I want to say that there can’t be anything worst than the MDA rap. But I’m always afraid that another civil service group will proof me wrong)”

Well I find it rather charming!

How long before UK companies take heed and start releasing rap videos instead of as well as adverts? 400,000 views on Youtube is not to be sniffed at. And its not like most rap videos aren’t adverts for something, anyway.

Apart from Prisoner Cell Block P’s new joint, which is awesome, and seemingly does nothing but let us know that P is cotdamn NUTS in the FACE. Dude splits some cracka ass cracka’s wig with a cotdamn TEEVEE SON! OMFG DOT COM!

The March Of The Sensual Seduction

Check it out! Snoop takes his Sexual Eruption Sensual Seduction to TV’s Ellen! With full band, including DJ Quik and an other enthusiastic Battlecat on decks! The stuff is bananas!

RIP PIMP C

Rest in peace Pimp C.


November Spawned a Moz Furore

From PlayLouder:

Morrissey Fights Back!
Delicious diatribe against the NME
‘Morrissey Fights Back!’ by luke.turner
04 Dec 2007

Morrissey has issued a delightfully written statement responding to the current hoo-ha over last week’s NME cover feature, in which he attempts to give his side of the interview, and has a pop at what he sees as the decline of the magazine. He doesn’t exactly address all the accusations levelled at him, but it’s a terrific read anyway, which I’ve reprinted in full below for your delectation and delight:

“I grew up a chanting believer in the New Musical Express. Last week however, I was the victim of the magazine’s agenda to cook up a sensational story.

On Friday of last week I issued writs against the NME (New Musical Express) and its editor Conor McNicholas as I believe they have deliberately tried to characterise me as a racist in a recent interview I gave them in order to boost their dwindling circulation.

I abhor racism and oppression or cruelty of any kind and will not let this pass without being absolutely clear and emphatic with regard to what my position is.

Racism is beyond common sense and I believe it has no place in our society.

To anyone who has shown or felt any interest in my music in recent times, you know my feelings on the subject and I am writing this to apologize unreservedly for granting an interview to the NME. I had no reason whatsoever to assume that they could be anything other than devious, truculent and unreliable. In the event, they have proven to be all three.

The NME have, in the past, offered me their “Godlike Genius Award” and I had politely refused. With the Tim Jonze inteview, the Award was offered once again, this time with the added request that I headline their forthcoming awards concert at the O2 Arena, and once again I declined it. This is nothing personal against the NME, although the distressing article would suggest the editor took it as such. My own view is that award ceremonies in pop music are dreadful to witness and are simply away of the industry warning the artist “see how much you need us” - and, yes, the ‘new’ NME is very much integrated into the industry, whereas, deep in the magazine’s empirical history, the New Musical Express was a propelling force that answered to no one. It led the way by the quality of its writers - Paul Morley, Julie Burchill, Paul du Noyer, Charles Shaar Murray, Nick Kent, Ian Penman, Miles - who would write more words than the articles demanded, and whose views saved some of us, and who pulled us all away from the electrifying boredom of everything and anything that represented the industry. As a consequence the chanting believers of the NME could not bear to miss a single issue; the torrential fluency of its writers left almost no space between words, and the NME became a culture in itself, whereas Melody Maker or Sounds just didn’t.

Into the 90s, the NME’s discernment and polish became faded nobility, and there it died - but better dead than worn away. The wit imitated by the 90s understudies of Morley and Burchill assumed nastiness to be greatness, and were thus rewarded. But nastiness isn’t wit and no writers from the 90s NME survive. Even with sarcasm, irony and innuendo there is an art, of sorts. Now deep in the bosom of time, it is the greatness of the NME’s history on which the ‘new’ NME assumes its relevance.

It is on the backs of writers such as Morley, Burchill, Kent and Shaar Murray that the ‘new’ NME hitches its mule-cart. But the stalled views of the ‘new’ NME sag, and readers have been driven away by a magazine with no insides. The narrow cast of repeated subjects sets off the agony, a mesmerizing mess of very brief and dispassionate articles unable to make thought evolve; a marooned editor who holds the divine right to censor any views that clash with his own.

The editorial treatment given to my present interview with the ‘new’ NME is the latest variation on an old theme, but like a pre-dawn rampage, the effects of the interview have been meticulously considered with obvious intentions. It is true that the magazine is ailing badly in the marketplace, but Conor doesn’t understand how the relentless stream of “cheers mate, got pissed last night, ha ha” interviews that clutter every single issue of the ‘new’ NME are simply not interesting to those of us who have no trouble standing upright. Strangely enough, my own name is the only one featured in the ‘new’ NME that links their present with the NME’s distant past, therefore a Morrissey interview is an ideal opportunity with which to play the editorial naughtiness game.

This, regrettably, is what has taken place with this most recent interview, which, it need hardly be said, bears no relation in print to the fleshly conversation that took place.

I do not mean to be rude to Tim Jonze, but when I first caught sight of him I assumed that someone had brought their child along to the interview. The runny nose told the whole story. Conor had assured that Tim was their best writer. Talking behind his hands and in endless fidget, Tim accepted every answer I gave him with a schoolgirl giggle, and repeatedly asked me if I was shocked at how little he actually knew about music. I told him that, yes, I was shocked. It was difficult for me to believe that the best writer from the “new” NME had never heard of the song ‘Drive-in Saturday’; I explained that it was by David Bowie, and Tim replied “oh, I don’t know anything about David Bowie.” I wondered how it could be so - how the quality of music journalism in England could have fallen so low that the prime ‘new’ NME writer knew nothing of David Bowie, an artist to whom most relevant British artists are indebted, and one who singlehandedly changed British culture - musically and otherwise.

Tim’s line of questioning advanced with: “What about politics, then … the state of the world?” which, I was forced to assume, was a well-thought-out question. It was from here that the issue of immigration - but not racism - arose.

Me: “If you walk down Knightsbridge you’ll be hard-pressed to hear anyone speaking English.”
Tim: “I don’t think that’s true. You’re beginning to sound like my parents.”
Me: “Well, when did you last walk down Knightsbridge?”
Tim: “Um… Knightsbridge… is that where Harrods is?”

So, Tim was prepared to attack and argue the point without even being clear about where Knightsbridge actually is! The ‘new’ NME strikes again. Oh dear, I thought, not again. I chose to mention Knightsbridge because it had always struck me as one of the most stiffly British spots in London. I am sorry Tim, but you are not yet ready to interview anyone responsibly.

When my comments are printed in the ‘new’ NME they are butchered, redesigned, reordered, chopped, snipped and split in order to make me seem racist and unreasonable. Tim had told me about his friend who did not like the 1987 song ‘Bengali in Platforms’ because the friend had thought the song attacked him on a personal level. I explained to Tim that the song was not about his friend. In print, the ‘new’ NME do not explain this, but attempt to multiply the horror of Tim’s friend by attributing “these people” and “those people” quotes to me - terms I would never use, but are useful to the ‘new’ NME in their Morrissey-is-racist campaign because these terms are only used by people who are cold and indifferent and Thatcherite. All of the people I spoke to Tim about in the interview who are heroes to me and who are Middle Eastern or of other ethnic back grounds were of no interest to either Tim or Conor. Clearly, Tim had been briefed and his agenda was to cook up a sensational story that would give life to the ‘new’ NME as a must-read national if not global shock-horror story. Recalling how Tim asked me to sign some CD covers, I do not blame him entirely.

If Conor can provoke bureaucratic outrage with this Morrissey interview, then he can whip up support for his righteous position as the morally-bound and armoured editor of his protected readership - even though, by remodelling my interview into a multiple horror, Conor has accidentally exposed himself as deceitful, malicious, intolerant and Morrissey-ist - all the ists and isms that he claims to oppose. Uniquely deprived of wisdom, Conor would be repulsed by my vast collection of world cinema films, by my adoration of James Baldwin, my love of Middle Eastern tunings, Kazem al-Saher, Lior Ashkenazi, Maya Angelou, Toni Morrison, and he would be repulsed to recall a quote as printed in his magazine in or around August of this year wherein I said that my ambition was to play concerts in Iran.

My heart sank as Tim Jonze let slip the tell-all editorial directive behind this interview: “it’s Conor’s view that Morrissey thinks black people are OK … but he wouldn’t want one living next door to him.” It was then that I realized the full extent of the setup, and I felt like Bob Hoskins in the final frame of The Long Good Friday as he sits in the back of the wrong getaway car realizing the extent of the conspiratorial slime that now trapped him.

During the interview Tim asked if I would support the Love Music Hate Racism campaign that the NME had just written about and my immediate response was a yes. I had shown my support previously by going to one of their first benefit gigs a few years ago and had met some of their organizers as well - as having signed their statement. Following the interview I asked my manager to get in touch with the NME and to pledge my further support to the campaign as I wanted there to be no ambiguity on where I stood on the subject. This was done in a clear and direct email to Conor McNicholas on the 5th of November which went ignored and last week we found out that it had never even been presented to anyone at the campaign as that would obviously not have suited what we now know to be the NME’s agenda. I am pleased to say that we have now had direct dialogue with Love Music Hate Racism and all of our UK tour advertising in 2008 will carry their logo. We will also be providing space in the venues for them to voice and spread their important message, which I endorse.

Who’s to say what you should or shouldn’t do? The magazine’s publishers, IPC have appointed Conor as the editor of the ‘new’ NME, and there he remains, ready to drag them into expensive legal battles such as the one they now face with me due to Conor’s personal need to mis-state, misreport, misquote, misinterpret, falsify, and incite the bloodthirsty. Here is proof that the ‘new’ NME will twist and pervert the views of any singer or musician who’d dare step into the interview ring. To such artists, I wish them well, but I would advise you to bring your lawyer along to the interview.

My own place, now and forevermore, shall not be with the ‘new’ NME - and how wrong my face even looks on its cover. Of this, I am eternally grateful.”

Ghost > Wu

I hate to say it, but it is The Truth - Ghostface’s Big Doe Rehab LP shits all over Wu-Tang’s 8 Diagrams like a cot-dang Pterodactyl.

BLA-OW!

Not saying the Wu record doesn’t have its moments. That it’s not good. But Tony’s is better. Not only is Ghost better - but the Wu members that pop up on Big Doe go in harder, iller - over better beats - than on 8 Diagrams. Especially Mef. Mef sounds better than he has since The Afterparty - another Ghost LP track.

Trife sounds great on here too. Trife is mad underrated.

OK. So, this Thieving record, right - I’m shooting the sleeve tonight. It dawned on me it would be dope to recreate an iconic album sleeve.

1st idea was the Nevermind one - but I ain’t got a swimming pool I can use and I gotta do it tonight. Hit me with your brilliant ideas!

Moving

Word, I hate moving houses!

I like unpacking after though. Arranging stuff. I like building shelves. I’m on that right now. Well, right now I’m on break. You dig me!

I got a can of Rio, and that is nice. That shit is still bigger than the other cans - 13.6% Extra Free est. as long as I can remember. When I was like, 8, we’d drive to Safeways in Upper Bangor to do the monthly shop, and if I was lucky I’d get me one of those as a treat.

Who was at that Bizzle show? Damn, that shit banged hard! Marv and Jack’s set was boss, cot DAMN those boys have come on since the Purple Turtle. They did Boom at the end and that Big Dog Westwood was jiving up onstage. Ghetto sprays hard, credit where credit is due. It’s always good to see Skinny, but I could have done with more stuff from his album, that shit was classic. I took Narstie and Littles down, and it was ill to see Narstie bring the house down without even getting onstage. That Brian Harvey-looking cat from N Dubs doing his and Solo’s rhymes was kind of weird.

Me, I never touched that stage and I blew the roof of THREE TIMES, fam. Babylon was straight moshpit, and B had the kids jogging on the spot like Running Man for Police, shit was CRAZY!

So, LP2 is pretty much written - straight ANTHEMS baby - and I’m in pre-production with the legend Stephen Hague. Get to know. That shit won’t be out till second quarter I figure, the way this beast of an industry moves, so what I’m gonna do, oh my good good peoples, is hit you off with, like, a pre-album album/mixtape thing for Xmas. A CD full of shit I can’t clear for mainstream commercial use (samples are a bigger headache by the day) - stuff that missed the last album for reasons of illegality and tone, and stuff I’ve been writing since the last album that just doesn’t fit the vision of the next one. Tear jerkers, bangers, screamers, murderers… Good shit. The record’s gonna be called Thieving - look out for a track with the same name imminently. It goes off to the printers next week, and we’ll start taking pre-orders as soon as the art’s done.

HO HO HO!

Oh, I nearly forgot - I just confirmed a Christmas show. Akira The Don & The Women will support my peoples The Crimea at Bush Hall, London on December 18th. It’s an acoustic show, so I’m getting me a drummer and shit. FIRST!

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Zef

the blob

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