thing

Gangster Mouse

Day two at the momma house, and I am finally getting used to her ridiculous mouse, that looks like a mouse, and not only looks like a mouse - with a tail coming out where you hold the thing, and ears for left and right click button - but is encrusted with diamanté blingy stuff... yes, it is mental and weird and strange and baffling, but I am getting used to it... all in time for me to bog off back to London, and my big heavy wireless mouse that looks like a sort of military armadillo, in time to do the Doncast tomorrow.

Which is a shame, as I rather like hanging out with my mum on our machines in our makeshift office. We naughtily took a two hour lunch break today to walk the streets of Andover, marvel at the ducks, buy presents, and have lunch in the garden centre. If you're ever in the area I recomend it highly, the staff are very nice and they do a mean flowerishly-latticed pork pie. They also sell four foot potted apple trees with really nice looking apples growing on them for £20, which is amazing. I might get one, to go with my little orange plant. I've had the thing for nearly three years, for the most of which time it has sat on the windowsill looking ill and yellow and it hadn't fruited since I got it, until my girl's sister put me on to this Citrus Baby Bio stuff and now I am the proud owner of a tiny baby orange plant covered in loads of tiny baby oranges. They are green rigt now, and only the size of marbles, but I am going to enjoy watching them grow tremendously.

Yes, life is sweet, unless your colleague has planted child pornography on your laptop, or your name is Andrew Crosley and you're getting hit with a £500,000 fine for being an evil granny-robbing douchebag. I would laugh and point, but one shouldn't mock the afflicted, and at any rate, that's a tiny punishment for so great a crime. Bonis nocet quisqus malis perpercit, as my old pal Jesus used to say. That man should be in JAIL, and I am certain he will get there in the end.

Speaking of massive douches, another fun thing about visiting my Mum is seeing all the post that she gets from debt collectors looking for my ass. They have been after me since I was 18 and, drunk in a town centre one fine afternoon, I got myself a Topman Store Card, which I immediately maxed out on a cammo print puffa jacket, some black army trousers and this Mean White Top Wot Zipped Down The Side Of My Neck To My Left Shoulder Blade. Around the same time I also bought a PC computer on credit. I then proceded to run around the country like a madman for a number of years, as you probably know from all those songs I wrote, while the little debt turned itself into a Great Big Debt that I have steadfastly ignored ever since.

ANYWAY. These debt collectors' efforts tend to come in cycles, following a long period of non activity, usually triggered by an unsuccessful loan application and accompanying credit check. They start out with the threatening (pay us), moving onto the very threatening (pay us or else), then to the super threatening (pay us or you will go to jail), before moving on to the desperate (please pay us), and so on. Right now they are in the deep, dark pits of Embarrassing Uber-Desperation, as they are sending me jaunty nonsense like this:

Dear Mr Narkiewicz

We previously asked a debt collection agency to contact you and now your account has been returned to us.

Fantastic offer - Save £ 814.90

It is important that you deal with your outstanding obligation Mr Narkiewicz, so we have the following options for you:

1. Pay £203.73 by 30th September 2010 and we will clear the remaining £814.90 to clear the balance...

Woah! That is indeed a "fantastic offer!" But having gone from "pay us or face legal action... bailiffs... death at the hands of trained ninja midgets" to "fantastic offer!" I think I'm gonna hold out for the next "super fantastic offer", which will no doubt involve YOU giving ME money, and maybe a speedboat or something. Ave!

Trunk Music

We've been shooting stuff for ATD25.

Last night we were up till 4 am, and Set Dressing Tim had a set to dress at 6am!

[Not to mention my long suffering better, sweeter and kinder half, up at 6 also, love you baby!]

Anyway!

That's a tiny part of one of the pictures.

Amazor!

The finished thing is going to be beautiful.

(And will go some way to revealing Joey2tits sinister ambition for this *£!$@# record)

We're working with this guy, fellow ex-Brum Andrew Bainbridge. Go look at his stuff and be filled with excitement as to what you can expect.

The first music will appear sometime next week.

And in the immediate present:

A show at a festival, for which Jeres, Joey, Birthday Jim (happy birthday Birthday Jim!) and I have been rehearsing. We have a watertight greatest hits set ready, now I just have to conjure an opening 15 minute mosaic. I have some rehearsal footage, but I don't know if I have time to edit it. I still need to cut you something for Sky...

...but before that, it is Wednesday, and that means it is DONCAST DAY. Let me know in the comments if there's anything you'd like playing, or discussing.

PAX!

Oh No, No! The Ants INVASION!

Photo by Charlotte Whewell

First off then, thanks to everybody that helped make Friday's show such a great time. The first Don Show with NO BEATS, and we pulled it off like a sticker on a CD. Jeres and Mary and Jim and me, reunited for the first time in years. Joey2tits on the balcony, armed with one of his many weapons. A tiny, tall stage up at which the people peered in wonder, able to hear my great excellent voice as clear as crystal for pretty much the first time EVAH.

Damn homie!

No beats.

Well, until right at the end when I plugged in my phone and we did Steven Wells (He Was The Greatest).

Here, have a setlist:

Yeah, was crazytime! Damn, that gig seems a long time ago! Still, it will live forever, and not just in the hearts and souls of those that witnessed it, but on THE INTERENETS 'cos Joey filmed it. With his schmexy video camera device. Really! This is exciting, non?

Oui!

Anyway. I had an exciting weekend after that. I spent Saturday daytime recording white hot post-pop outfit The Killer Knits, which was a pretty ill experience. Their singer is ten, and sounds like a young Mark E Smith. More on them soon enough.

That night my buddy Luke "Hullo" Turner took me to Church - and whilst his father IS a preacher, it was not for a sermon. Not a typical sermon anyway. It was to see an olde movie film from 1986 (the first year I actively remember) called Comrades about the Tolpuddle Martyrs, a bunch of farm labourers from Dorset who formed a union in the early 1800s in a valiant attempt to get paid more than the price of a dozen turnips a week for their back breaking work. Naturally, living under a Tory government as they were, the men found themselves arrested and sent to Australia to break rocks.

The film was 3 hours in duration, which is a very long time to be sat on a pew, but I did find a rather fetching cross-stitched cushion to rest my simian bubble butt on, and both the ale they were serving and the whiskey Luke had in his hip-flask did a fine job of raising my spirits exponentially throughout - in tandem with the film itself, as it went. By the end of it, having witnessed some truly awe inspiring Triumph Over Adversity, I was whooping and hollering like a cotdamn ectomorphic Revivalist.

On Sunday me and my gyaldem washed the car and drove down to the Surrey Quays ulytaplex to gorge our chops on popcorn and coke and ice cream and Munchies watch The Nolan Dynasty's latest ruminative legosmasher, Inception (I'm not the only one for whom the title took a long time to stick, am I?). Now, I love a good ultraplex, and me and my gyaldem have romantic history with regards to this particular Church Of Western Art, but this joint was rammed beyond comfortability, to the point where we were being told we couldn't sit together! Young lovers, kept apart by, like, other motherfuckers! Tragedy! So we found a lone seat right at the front, and my gyaldem sat on the floor between my legs, which is obviously super romantic and just the sort of thing people do in the comfort of their homes whilst watching ultra expensive mental legosmashers on Ninjavideo torrents. Problem was, we were not in the comfort of our own homes. We were in a cotdang ULTRAPLEX with about A THOUSAND OTHER MOTHERFUCKERS, all of them chomping sugary treats. Of course we were gonna get swarmed by ants.

Yeah, that's right brothers and sisters. My poor pretty gyaldem had only been sat on her pert buttocks for the duration of the what remained of the trailers when what felt to her like CREATURES started CRAWLING all OVER her. At first she thought she was imagining it. Then, after slapping at her legs and arms, she killed one, arching with dread as she hold it up in the light between thumb and forefinger. Quick as a flash, she disappeared a few rows back to sit on her own - well, on her own next to a noisy couple who talked all through the movie and breathed on her hotly, and loudly - leaving me with a full bucket of popcorn. I felt bad for her. But I had my own problems.

In my mind the ants were tiny and few. But there wasn't that much distance between the floor and my cushioned perch, and soon I knew the truth. An itch on my forearm and a subsequent slap form my left hand revealed that ugly truth: yeah, there were ants. But they weren't small and few. They were BIG and FAT and BLACK AS ORIGINAL SIN and they were fucking MANY, and lo they did proceed to swarm over my person for the next two hours. Two hours I spent kicking and jumping and wringing under the bombardment of this terrible army of FAT BLACK POPCORN MUNCHING ANTS, crawling up my legs and my arms and my fucking THROAT... which naturally played havoc with my concentration and enjoyment of the Nolan Dynasty's super literal - and lateral - dream within a dream within a dream within a DREAM caper. Just typing this is making me itch. And if that wasn't bad enough, the capacity audience, when they weren't giggling inappropriately, chewing as loudly as their open mouths could muster and rustling en masse like a fucking rickshaw made from of half a ton of decade old jizz tissue, well, they were were only lambasting the tragic couple on screen during their most tender moment.

Dream Within A Dream Within A Dream Actress: "B... b.. but you promised we'd always be together!"

Eediot a few rows behind me: "Shat ap you prick!"

Eediot girls throughout the theatre: "Hee hee hee hee hee hee! Rustle rustle rustle!"

Aware of how much I'd paid, the time we'd invested getting to the bloody cinema (that was a fucking arduous nightmare in itself, but one far too boring to go into here), and entirely unwilling to be driven from My Church by cotdamned micro animals, I suffered through regardless, found things to enjoy, and afterwards I went and complained to the manager ("I did not pay 30 quid to have ants crawl all over me for 2 hours!") and got us some "free" guest passes to the Odeon of our choice. So we're gonna see Toy Story in 3D at the biggest Odeon in all of London next Friday afternoon. And if there is a moral to that story I have yet to pick up on it frankly, and anyway, I am going to have to go and have another shower now, because all this talk of ants has made me itch like a baby in a barrel full of crabs on a hot Summers evening. Like, those crabs that have hair on them and live on the lips of sewer pipes. Ah, evolution, you cruel slattern.

OH! (What A Glorious Thing)

LYRICS: I woke about nine Opened up my eyes Figured it's time to rise Threw the curtains open wide And peeped outside - yo the weather was fine! I knew that was a sign that today would be a good day I popped a CD on, jumped in the shower Sploshed and washed till I'm fresh like a flower Next grab a towel and I dry myself off I grab my vest cos next it's time to get dressed White socks, my fubu boxers Clean white jeans and this mean white top what zips down the side of my neck To my left shoulder blade Feel like I just got paid today YEAH! Brushed my teeth and my hair then I popped my contacts in and binned the containers Put on my trainers Out the front door, waved "hi!" to the neighbours

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

So I hop on my stolen bike and ride Down the Kingsland road (whoah) Bouncing over speed bumps calves pump pedals The way I ramp that plank I deserved a frigging medal Petrol fumes looms as my bike zooms Stuck behind a bus and its rough so I cough Which reminds me, when the sun's blistering I'm gonna have to take an anti-histamine Or else I'll get stressed again Sneeze so hard I split my vest again Vex my chest till I'm depressed again No way pos, sis! So I drop by the office Check out my emails Females blowing up my inbox Boom! Soon though I'm off again, headed down park Hook up with my peeps we kick ball till its dark Then we're off to rock a show and I'm super glad it's Stunners time Kicking dope rhymes in the summertime, word!

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba bada Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba ba da Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba bada Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba ba da Bah ba bada bah

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

OH! (What A Glorious Thing)

LYRICS: I woke about nine Opened up my eyes Figured it's time to rise Threw the curtains open wide And peeped outside - yo the weather was fine! I knew that was a sign that today would be a good day I popped a CD on, jumped in the shower Sploshed and washed till I'm fresh like a flower Next grab a towel and I dry myself off I grab my vest cos next it's time to get dressed White socks, my fubu boxers Clean white jeans and this mean white top what zips down the side of my neck To my left shoulder blade Feel like I just got paid today YEAH! Brushed my teeth and my hair then I popped my contacts in and binned the containers Put on my trainers Out the front door, waved "hi!" to the neighbours

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

So I hop on my stolen bike and ride Down the Kingsland road (whoah) Bouncing over speed bumps calves pump pedals The way I ramp that plank I deserved a frigging medal Petrol fumes looms as my bike zooms Stuck behind a bus and its rough so I cough Which reminds me, when the sun's blistering I'm gonna have to take an anti-histamine Or else I'll get stressed again Sneeze so hard I split my vest again Vex my chest till I'm depressed again No way pos, sis! So I drop by the office Check out my emails Females blowing up my inbox Boom! Soon though I'm off again, headed down park Hook up with my peeps we kick ball till its dark Then we're off to rock a show and I'm super glad it's Stunners time Kicking dope rhymes in the summertime, word!

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba bada Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba ba da Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba bada Bah ba bada bah

Ba ba ba ba ba bada Bah ba ba da Bah ba bada bah

OH! What a Glorious thing Waking up in the morning baby Oh! What a glorious thing Get to have a whole day! HEY!

OH! (What A Glorious Thing)/ BOOM! (Smash Stuff) 7″

This was the third song I wrote after I taught myself to make whole songs back in 03. I sampled the opening few bars of Nico's mournful, lugubrious These Days and turned it into a thing of joy. I wanted my Crack Village bandmate Lois Winstone to sing the chorus, dounting my own vocal abilities, but she said my demo sounded great as it was, and to leave it like that. So I did. Then I took it to New York and put a children's choir on it.

Billy Joel's dentist gave me $3000 worth of free celebrity-dentistry because he said this song "will outlive us all".

He also gave me a pair of those awesome orange visor things they put over your eyes when you're getting your teeth lazered.

HIGH FIVE THIS SONG!

OH! (What A Glorious Thing)/ BOOM! (Smash Stuff) 7″

This was the third song I wrote after I taught myself to make whole songs back in 03. I sampled the opening few bars of Nico's mournful, lugubrious These Days and turned it into a thing of joy. I wanted my Crack Village bandmate Lois Winstone to sing the chorus, dounting my own vocal abilities, but she said my demo sounded great as it was, and to leave it like that. So I did. Then I took it to New York and put a children's choir on it.

Billy Joel's dentist gave me $3000 worth of free celebrity-dentistry because he said this song "will outlive us all".

He also gave me a pair of those awesome orange visor things they put over your eyes when you're getting your teeth lazered.

HIGH FIVE THIS SONG!

Zzz

So, I got some (ha!) sleep, and I listened to the noises Birddogg was making up here while I was down in New York, doing whatever it was I was doing in New York. Like, there's some ill stuff. But one in particular is just tremendous. it is mighty. It fills my heart. And prefectly fits so many of the raps I was writing in New York, tempom flow, everything. So, what I've done, is draw various raps, and bits of raps, together, to create this New York song that's been brewing all the time I've been here. It is best I get it out now, before I FORGET. Annoyingly, the necassary component is missing. So piss.

Bad: All the stuff I bought last week - food, drink, socks, weed - is gone. Mostly. I got a lot of Ritz crackers, peanut butter and macaroni. Good: There's a Death's Head Moth on my window. (See right) Bad: There is animal shit by my window. Good: The air outside is fresh and envigorating. Bad: The air in the top level of the house, in which I am supposed to be dwelling, is thick with the stink of animal and of animal excrement.

I went to turn on the sauna earlier, and nearly trod in cat shit. Or dog shit. It could be both. Whatever. It's like, wow, sauna! Oh, catshit. Wow! Oh. Wow! Oh. Etc. So, I wanted to go into town and get a job today, to pay for my ticket back to New York, but waited about for people to come with me rather than just doing it, and the end result is it's super late now, too late to get a job anywhere, and everyone's going into town to go out, save me, who must stay at home cos he has no ID (this is a worry), and it's too far to chance not being allowed in anywhere.

A ha!

So I should write more now. I wrote a bunch earlier. Phil is worrying that Amy has forotten his ass, as she went in her tiny car to take Cecelia and James over an hour ago. But she hasn't forgotten him. It's just miles from ShanGayKen to Woodstoock! A HA!

I just asked Spiky if he has a message for the world. He said, "spitroast!" So there you go.

Appologies

So, there were a bunch of updates and pictures and things, and they got wiped! Oh, the tragedy. So, a recap. On my last day on Rivington Street I saw a white thug in an open-top Hummer drive by blasting out 'I Want The One I Can't Have' and nodding along with a serious expression about his face.

Then we went.

Wade and I ended up on the coach, as there was no room in the van, or car. We got there early, and checked out the scene. The scene is small.

We don't actually live in Woodstock. We live in Shandaken, outside. Well, just outside. Half way up a mountain, hidden away by forest, amongst bears and chipmunks and what have you. In a big old dusty house full of weird porn and broken stuff, with brown water and giant ants. Like, there's a jacuzzi, but it doesn't seem to work. There is the biggest TV you've ever seen, but it's got a big black tear across the front and doesn't tune properly. It's a two hour walk to the nearest shop, whihc is a petrol station, and does a good line in biscuits. The local girl's got a lot of guns.

It is very lovely to look at up in Shandaken. Mountains covered in trees, mainly. Streams. Clouds so low you can jump up and punch them.

I miss Wade, who is back in London sorting out affairs. All my stuff is in boxes.