Millet, brown rice. They’re good.

Alternative title – one. hundred. / re-occurring themes

My friend Martin posted me his new zine, 100 or 1

Javelle from the Create This! course wrote and recorded a song with me called 1 to 100. It’s one of my favourites that we did over the year. He programmed the drums, played keys and did all the vocals. I played bass. He’s a first take master.

Download it here

——-

In other news i’m not very good at scrabble and i’m also a bad loser. Suduko > Crosswords
I’m a fan of kite ballet.
I need a camera as I can’t always rely on Rosie. Got one spare?

We’re going to have a party

…and everyone’s welcome.

Tarnishing my data

Hello all you people looking for a picture of Dawson crying, how’s it going? It’s a pretty funny picture, I agree. ha ha ha.

——-

So, one of the things that has been occupying a lot of my time in the past couple of weeks has been the finishing up of the second year of the Create This! music course, mixing songs, getting everything finished, paperwork, blah, blah… It’s now over and i have my friday nights back after 2 years!!! my word… what am i going to do?

I know, i’ll write a blog about it…

Create This! for those of you that i haven’t talked/punished at length in person about it, was an accredited training course (the only one of it’s kind) for young people with a learning disability… We supported them to write and create their own music, form bands, record their own music, in groups and as individuals, and also write and record soundtracks to films. Whilst also having learning disabled tutors, including members of Beat Express. It’s hard to fully describe what we did over the course of 30 sessions in the year, I think if i tried here it would become beyond rambling and it would detract from how amazing it was.

It’s the first big project I worked on after joining Carousel and it has been, not wanting to sound too dramatic, a life-changing experience and I have learnt A LOT. I’m proud to say that over the whole 2 years of it running I didn’t miss one session, I was at (in one mental state or another!) all 60. I’m sure if you ask any of the people i’m in bands with then they could attest to how annoying it’s been hearing, “Nope, can’t do it, it’s friday night… working”. I’ve missed countless gigs, parties, festivals, holidays for the course. I did play up the fact that sessions might not be able to run if I wasn’t there, but in reality I just didn’t want to miss any of it. When I talk to people about the friday nights I do focus on how much fun the sessions usually are… often making a ridiculous amount of noise, writing some of the most insane songs ever and spending the majority of the time smiling and laughing. There have been a few moments though, talking with parents and carers especially, when I realised what may appear as arsing about and having fun for a couple of hours a week is actually one of the most important things in a person’s life… a genuine chance to express themselves and communicate with others. It made me re-think a lot of what i think about playing music, the people on the course and the environment have been so inspiring… to get to be somewhere so creative and free. I know it sounds wank but i feel lucky that i’ve witnessed and been a part of some pretty incredible things, just down to music.

Luckily the work with all the graduates of the course is continuing in various forms after the summer and i’m sure i will keep you posted on all that jazz (or heavy metal). For now though you can check out Shut Up and Listen! – the new website that we’ve just launched, which is going to help promote and shout about learning disabled music. you have been warned! oh and tell your friends :)

SUCK IT!

Woah

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere…

Sorry, busy. No time. ever. Check failedrockstar again, 2 new interviews… holy crap! One being a very old, dear friend, Richard Ardagh, the other being a man who once shaved the side of my head… then stole my hat in the street and laughed.

Plans. Schemes. Brainache.

Millwall

More information… info, info,info………………

Failedrockstar ver. 2.0 is now online, happening & go! I’m extremely pleased with how it looks and impressed by all the hard work both my brother and mark pavey a.k.a xTHE DAGGERx have put into it’s completion… The interviews are all super interesting and informative and inspring… all the i’s. whether you’re interested in art or not, i think they’re an extremely pleasing read… and as one of the stars of the new look, all special website says himself, it makes a change from the 5-minute online interview world that often prevails these days. yeah. AND… painting. oh yeah, Chloe Early, she’s a bit good right?

Dance of the Dog

Got a spare 20 minutes?

Just been sent a link to this great video made on Fall Of Efrafa’s recent US Tour. Looks like they had a fun time indeed… Lagomorphic punk rock. Luke and I recently demoed the last song for their third & final album, Inle, and i must say it’s sounding pretty killer, dudes. I’m very excited about the week in Devon recording it… and you should be excited about it’s imminent creation, yeah?

Powerstomp

2 whole weeks without a post? crazy. life sometimes gets in the way of the internet i guess… which is terrible i know. also people can be real bad… like stealing your computer from under your nose whilst enjoying a lunchtime engagement at brighton’s finest eating establishment. real bad.

anyway, on with the show… got lots to report. for now i’m going to start with the latest t-shirt design for the chaps in Fake Problems that i gone and did -

not two-can toucan, three-can toucan.

ok.

Cycling to China

I received an email from my friend Russ the other day, it’s real inspirational stuff. He’s currently cycling from Thailand to China on his own. He bought himself a one-way ticket, has been learning Thai and Chinese and has a job waiting for him in China teaching english. I don’t really know what else to say but i think you should get to read a bit about his adventure…

“ahoy, hoy.

another update. sorry for the impersonal touch again. something fairly poetic. can’t stop pedalling!

i am in laos. in Luang Prabang. i have been off the internet since i was in Vientianne about 6 days ago. it’s been an amazing ride. there is a mountain range between here and there. i had no idea what it takes to ride up a mountain. now i know. it’s incredibly challenging and incredibly rewarding.

my first ascent was the biggest. that was two days ago. about 15 – 20 km of non-stop uphill. from about 400m to something like 1500m up. luckily it wasn’t too hot that day so i wasn’t getting burned alive. so many times i thought i couldn’t make it. going barely faster than walking pace. just cranking up, up, up… into the sky. it took me hours but i finally made it to Phou Khoun which is a small crossroads, market town and the first stop-over in the mountains from the south. i rewarded my self with noodle soup and coffee and kept on going. tried to realise that what was happening was real.

the greatest thing was realising that i had been in that same town one year ago, on a five minute rest break on the coach from Luang prabang to Vientianne. i remember feeling dazed and tired, not knowing where i was, not really wanting to be there. this time i was so relieved to be there, alert, knowing exactly where i was and what it takes to get there.

the next town with accomodation was Kiu Kacham, 40km further on. it was only 1pm or so and i decided to push on. after some more ups and downs i found a very basic guest house … bucket shower, room with a bed and a table, shared squat toilets… sort of concrete hut out the back of the family restaurant / shop area… i was more than happy to have a place to fall over and wash my face. their kids slept in the room opposite me and we all shared the same facilities. they like to sing in the evening. it’s really sweet. 

i think they wondered who the tall, skinny, pale thing was that arrived on a bicycle. a lot of people do look at me funny. i don’t blame them. i’d look at me funny too if i wasn’t so busy being me, being kinda funny.

i crashed out. shattered.

in the morning it was hammering down with rain. big ol’ fat rain. that was when i noticed the ingeniuous network of pipes, gutters and gulleys keeping every one and everything between the huts dry. keeping all the buildings ‘under one roof’.

i sat talking to the owner and tried to wait for it to stop but by around 9:30 i was anxious to get going and cover the 90km to Luang Prabang. i was still in the mountains and had plenty of climbs and falls to come. 

i set out in the rain… 20km of non-stop downhill. pelted with rain, blinded by fog, blasted with wind. absolutley incredible. huddling in occasional shelters eating sticky rice and wondering how i got myself into such a situation. 

my brake blocks are really worn down. i need more. 

then the sun came out and i had to go back up again… another 10 – 15 km straight up to the top of another mountain. on the way up i passed a tourist mini-bus that had hit a logging truck coming up, the other way. nasty stuff, but no one was seriously injured… just standing around looking dazed and wondering how they were gonna get out of the middle of nowhere. 

then who’s this cranking slowly round the bend, whistling the titanic theme tune and wearing a silly straw hat?

only me!

don’t mind if i do… sorry, love to stay and chat but bang in the middle of riding my bike up a bloody big hill in the arse-end of nowhere! 

got a flat tyre shortly after that… probbaly from the smashed glass. the tyre was full of holes and the had to change both tube and tyre… no shade… blazing sun… sweating away… much to the amusement of the small band of village kids who came to watch the funny big man getting covered in oil (it was the rear wheel). i gave them the old tyre and they were well happy about it. saw them rolling it down hill after i left and chasing after it.

my momentum ruined, i finally got to the top…another huge descent… this time in the sun… glorious. absolutely stunning.

about 10km out side Luang Prabang i ran out of energy, effort, food… the sun was still beating down… i just wanted to stop but i had to find a bed! pressed on… drank a pepsi… a final up hill! of course!! why not?

but i arrived. here i am. croissants, curry, internet and a room with a fan. luxury.

today i had a day off but i am itching to move again. it’s so addictive.

the scenery is nothing short of stunning. the silence of the mountains is immense. overwhelming. i’m cycling the main highway in laos and often there isn’t a vehicle in sight. so many times i just stop and stand there … staring, listening to nothing… being nowhere in particular and being very happy about it.

i’m closer to china now. the next month will be almost entirely mountains. i’m riding across and through range after range in south china… along the border of vietnam. i’m anxious and excited. it’s a big challenge. an entry into a strange, unknown country with an unknown language and set of customs… arriving by bicycle over a relatively remote mountain pass… should be a corker.

i’m well up for it. up for the language challenge too. china’s the big one.

i should be there in five of six days i reckon… 

so, mountains: absolute hell at times. painful, endless, breathless ascents with low energy. tiny towns, staring villagers and no energy. sweat. BUT! the rewards! what a great feeling to get to the top. realising you actually just did it and are still alive. feeling better and stronger than ever. adrenaline rushing. being able to explain to people at the top who you are and where you have come from. where you are going and why. meeting the people all along the way, not missing a thing… i feel a bit sorry for the people cramped up in the busses, trying to sleep with their heads bashing against the windows as the bus winds and bumps up and down the mountains.

lunch at the top of a 1500km pass. fresh breeze. sticky rice, mango and bananas. water. and an exhilarating, 20km descent that dries you out, cools you down and makes you glad to be alive.
 
then start again.

mostly i am happy that i now know it can be done. it is possible. i’m glad about that cuz i don’t seem to have much choice in the matter.

for now,

enjoy some pictures.

-russ!”

Not Very Mega Pixel

Der Wilde Mann

I received some post from my very good friend Christina Sophia Dixon the other day, she lives in Austria (as depicted above… apparently she has to wear that outfit by law) and has done for the past 2 years. She seems to do an extraordinary amount of activities over there, most of which involves a certain suspension of disbelief, teenage boys dressed as the devil, covered in animal fat drunkenly beating kids and smacking girls bums with planks of wood in alpine tradition, anyone? I love hearing about all the ridiculous things she gets up to and luckily for me my post from her contained a copy of her new zine, “Graz’s Beat Prancer”. Which is a document of some of her time over in Austria-land, it’s great, i’ve been thoroughly enjoying reading it over the last few days. You should definitely pick yourself up one… unfortunately i have no idea how you’d go about doing this, your best bet is to probably email sweetshopsyndicate@gmail.com maybe?
 
Here’s a snippett of the zine now, to make this post longer and more interesting with less effort from me…

A catalogue of my favourite Austrian names thus far and the characters behind them.

Horst Kaltenegger. Horst teaches English and German at a Gynasium in Graz. His name makes the list because of his admirable character traits. Every Thursday he cycles to the market and buys me fresh apples which taste absolutely amazing. The Thursday apple lifts me from my ‘it’s nearly the weekend but not quite’ funk and ensures I deliver a cracking last lesson. Yes my weekend starts on a Thursday, isn’t that fucking awesome? He also took me to the cinema with his 6th grade class to see Beowulf and he bought me popcorn. He keeps me supplied with English breakfast tea, a product similar to gold dust here in Austria. Horst is a kindly gentleman who has dragged me into the world of school politics because he was ousted as headmaster at one of the other schools I work at. He has told me all kinds of stories about the game of educational chess that was played and how his lack of Catholicism was the reason for his sudden departure. He has blamed the manoeuvring on none other than Werner Pendl, the English teacher that offered to lend me his skis next month. What a predicament!

Willibald Possert. Willy is one of my favourite teachers although I have decided he might be slightly creepy because he alllllways wants to hang out with me after school. I am running out of excuses. However, he is a great teacher and bought me loads of Strongbow at the 8th grade after party. This was generous because Strongbow costs a fortune. Willibald is a hero because he wears tight jackets made either of faux leather or suede coupled with corduroy trousers. He is a coffee dealer in the staff room so he is an essential ally of mine if I intend to be kept in supply. His 8th class are my favourite class by a long shot. It is nearly all boys and he has given them English names to make the class seem more authentic. Seeing a boy called Volker (genuine first name) responding to ‘Henry’ or ‘John’ is rather amusing. They bought me a lot of jagermeister and cocktails at their party, plus they all got naked and danced on the bar in Flan’o’Briens to the Baywatch theme tune. Nearly all of them shave their chests and spend afternoons at the ‘fitness studio’.

 Wolfgang Pickl. Wolfgang speaks in the thickest Styrian dialect I have ever heard, but he is a total legend. Having spent many years in Canada and America he doesn’t really see the benefits of having a British teaching assistant, however, his class consists of nearly all boys aged between 17 and 19. This is good for me because a) boys participate in class and b) they try to impress me so they constantly make jokes and say pseudo-intelligent things, which is great fun. They keep arguing about the spelling of colour though. Boys, it is not Color!