Blogs

This year has seen the 100th anniversary of the birth of Sam Phillips and the 70th anniversary of the first releases on Sun Records. Released in the wake of their collaborations The Benefactor, Love, and Plan for a Performance, Jeremy and Paul offer a skewed but reverent homage to those who started it all, a collision driven comeback from the dynamic duo of rad deconstruction.

Recording artist, digital fine artist, and prolific electronic music and video art collaborator, Jeremy Gluck is perhaps best known as lead singer of cult surf-punk band The Barracudas, the subject of a recently released 3CD retrospective on Cherry Red Records. As a solo artist he has had songs covered by artists such as Lydia Lunch and Rowland S. Howard (The Birthday Party, Crime and the City Solution, These Immortal Souls), and Nikki Sudden (Swell Maps), with whom two latter artists he recorded the first supergroup alt.country album, ‘I Knew Buffalo Bill’ in 1987. In 1997 Gluck began a journey into experimental electronica that led to him working with some of the genre’s leading lights, including Martin Rev, Brendan Moeller, Dub Gabriel, and Youth.

Paul Hazel is a music producer and multi-instrumentalist. He has studied electro-acoustic composition with Simon Emmerson and been through the ‘Search and Reflect’ method with free jazz drummer John Stevens. He has had many releases on labels such as Rising High, Rotation, Inspiral, 2Kool, Welsh Modular Alliance, and SWND. As part of the band Blue Train he hit the Billboard dance charts with Get Movin’, released on Masters At Work. He has composed and produced the music for a number of commercial films and TV programmes. Short films of his own have been exhibited in Japan, Venice, and at several galleries across Wales.

Links

https://bambooradical.bandcamp.com/
https://www.facebook.com/JeremyGluckArt
https://www.facebook.com/paul.hazel.31/
https://twitter.com/nonceptualism
https://objkt.com/profile/tz2JPVuwvUZyq1LyFwNz2ghXbJ62pQ1rd9f2/activity

“Good afternoon and thank you for finally attending this Job Start Interview!” Said the Civil Servant.

“You’re welcome Mr Isious!” replied the attendee politely-reading the name badge on the Official- with all the charm of a gentleman that had been to Gordonstoun and then Dartmouth Naval College.

“ Mr Andrew Albert Christian Edward Windsor I presume,…do you have any photographic identification on you to prove this fact?” asked the former DSS snooper.

“Sorry…one doesn’t carry a wallet around with me…money is vulgar…hang on …One has a photograph of oneself flying a helicopter in the Falklands War …would that suffice…is that what you are Sea King?” Asked the eighth in line to the throne of England, passing over a tattered old Kodak snapshot, now yellowing with age.

“Not really but it will have to do…don’t forget you won’t be allowed to vote at the next General Election without proper identification documents you know!” replied the know -it - all Government employee reading from the YouGov site.

“ So why is one here….is one in trouble?” asked the disgraced Royal.

“Not compared to recent events….you are here because officially you have not worked since 2002 when you left the Navy!” Replied the jobsworth.

“That’s 21 years to be precise and you are only aged 63 and therefore still of an age that you are eligible to work!” He continued.

The Duke of York gulped nervously but didn’t sweat it.

“So according to our Government records, you are receiving State benefit from the Sovereign Grant , formerly the Civil List, to the tune of £250,000.00 ….the question is are you actively looking for work?” the interviewer said looking over his bifocal glasses.

“Well ….stuttered the Prince….my Mother has only recently died …!” 

“That was over six months ago in September 2022!” Continued the Questioner.

“And what about the previous two decades….were you just F***ing about?” asked the Civil Servant turning very uncivil.

“Look…one told that BBC Lady, Emily Mattress,  in my other interview that one doesn’t  drink coffee and therefore haven’t been anywhere near a Maxwell House!” denied the Duke.

“So what exactly have you been doing since your last recorded job in 1982?” Asked Mr Icious.

“Do you have a first name ?” Asked Andrew.

“Of course…it’s Malcolm!” Replied the Government Employee.

“May one call you Mal?….Mr Icious?” Queried the Duke.

“Most certainly NOT!” Replied the Job Centre Plus Interviewer.

“This is a formal interview to determine if you deserve to continue to receive handouts from the state!” He continued.

“So other than playing around with your chopper for two decades…what exactly have you been doing?”

“Well…one has been waving a lot …!” replied the Royal with absolute sincerity.

The interviewer furrowed his brow and stared at the Duke.

“Mainly from the deck of the Royal Yacht Britannia…!” he stuttered.

“ Do you know the song a life on the ocean ‘wave’ is better than going to sea?” Said the posh boy.

“Is that why you are called Handy Andy then?….I thought it was for a different reason!” said Malcolm turning the Royal colour Purple, apoplectic with rage.

“Well we both sponge money off the Taxpayer don’t we?” Said Andrew trying to find ‘common’ ground with the commoner.

“ You mean as a civil servant I am obliged to accept a below inflation pay award and work till I am 67 …five years longer than any Frenchman …whilst you live the life of Riley….it’s complete nonsense!”

“Some would say nonce-sense actually!” Replied the Sniggerer.

“And don’t mention Frogmore please….it’s still a sore point with my family!” 

“So are you claiming too for any dependents?” Asked the Interviewer.

“Yes, for one’s daughters Beatrice &  Eugenie !” The Royal outcast said.

“ And how old they…are they still in school or full time education?” Malcolm pressed harder.

“Let me see Beatrice is 34 and Eugenie 32 and of course Sarah my other dependent is 63!” Andrew continued.

“Don’t any of them have their own jobs?” Asked Malcolm absolutely flabbergasted.

After three long minutes of laughing from Andrew he replied “Are you serious?”

Looking around the whitewashed walls of the Windsor Job Centre, he uttered.

“Come on…who set this up ….Michael McIntyre or Ant n Dec?”

“Can’t be Jeremy Beadle….he is no longer about after all!”

“This isn’t a laughing matter, Mr Windsor…I am here to make sure that you find work or we stop your State ‘benefit’ like everyone else in this Country!” said the official in a more Mal Icious tone.

“So what skills do you have?” Asked Malcolm.

Andrew racked his brain and repeated “Waving?”

“There are several job opportunities available working in the Pizza Express Woking Branch….do you know it?” asked the Interviewer.

“No!” Replied the Duke immediately.

“Never been there in my life….oops…on second thoughts one went there with one’s daughter on the night that one DIDN’T go to Tramp nightclub…!”

“What perks do you get ?”

“Well it is a bit like the Hooters restaurants they have in Canada and the US with young girls serving in skimpy outfits only with different ‘toppings!” said Malcolm luring the new Prince of Darkness in to bite.

“Interested?” 

The Duke was now leaning forward at the desk.

Malcolm lifted the telephone up and spoke into it.

“Susan…would you be good enough to bring me in the Pizza Express bakery job application forms for the Woking branch….you will find them under the 

P- Dough File!” 

Andrew looked suspiciously at the Official he had heard that word chanted a lot when he was in Buckingham Palace ever since he had innocently paid Three Million Pounds to a charity suggested by a girl he had never met.

“You are aware that the allegations about One and Miss Go Free were never proved in a Court of Law do you? said the Duke rather testily.

“Not my concern really!” Said Malcolm.

“Do you know why One did that free interview with Emily Mattress?” Countered Andrew.

“Former BBC reporter Martin Bashir rang up the Palace claiming he had further evidence….bloody phoney wank statements….how dull does he think one is? …Princess Diana or something?” raged Andrew.

“Oh ‘hang on’….there is also an International Job going as a prison officer at the New York Correctional Centre….sounds like money for old rope…!”said Malcolm looking at his computer screen.

“ Are you still allowed to visit the United States ….?” challenged Malcolm.

“Come to think of it….One does have a lot of Air Miles left on One’s frequent flyer account to Palm Beach , Florida….but on second thoughts best not to go there again…you know with all those selfies of people One has never actually met….!”mused Andrew.

“Sauna Tester in IKEA in Kyrgyzstan?” proffered Malcolm.

“You could do that no sweat!”

The evil eye from the Royal followed.

“Why does one have to get a job anyway …surely with all those people coming over in those small boats ….they need a job more than One does…after all…One’s ancestors created the British Empire especially for people who DO have the ability to break sweat….!” Replied the Royal in a posh voice.

“Oh they are fast tracked to Rwanda these days…so the Post-Brexit fruit is still rotting in the fields without anyone to pick it!” said Malcolm.

“Do you fancy a try?….after all you have a plum in your mouth most of the time anyway!” He continued.

Andrew leaned in and whispered

“One thinks we both know that neither One nor One’s family are ever going to do REAL work as we are too important to the British economy given the amount we bring in from tourism?” Replied Not so Handy.

“How much is that a year?”asked Mal.

“19 Million Pinds!” said the Royal gurning with the pronunciation.

“And the cost to the tax payer for the Sovereign Grant ?” questioned the Interviewer.

“Don’t know or care!” Said Andrew churlishly.

“It’s amazing what you can find on the internet especially with a Freedom of Information form these days…..try £369 Million give or take a few clocks…!” Replied the clear Republican.

“ So what is your point exactly?” Asked the peeved Royal feeling more exposed than Prince Harry at a Las Vegas pool party.

“Everyone in Britain must now pay their way or get deported to Rwanda!” said Mal 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing one has ever heard!” said Andy channelling the late Kenny Everett.

“What about Stanley Johnson up for a knighthood?” asked Mal the inquisitor.

“Point taken!” sniggered Andy.

Thu 23rd March - The Parish, Wrexham.

 Fri 24th March - Cwrw, Carmarthen.

Sat 25th March - Cader Rocks Torrent Walk, Dolgellau

* FREE ENTRY *

Sat 25th March - 1pm - The Second 45 Record Shop - Acoustic instore gig

*FREE ENTRY*

Please come a long and support the bands & the venues!

Of Welsh descent, Meriwether Lewis (1774-1809) was an American explorer, soldier, politician, and public administrator, best known for his role as the leader of the Lewis and Clark Expedition, also known as the Corps of Discovery, with William Clark. Their mission was to explore the territory of the Louisiana Purchase, establish trade with, and sovereignty over the natives near the Missouri River, and claim the Pacific Northwest and Oregon Country for the United States before European nations. They also collected scientific data and information on indigenous nations.

Lewis was born in Virginia and had no formal education until he was 13 years old, but during his time in Georgia, he enhanced his skills as a hunter and an outdoorsman. He joined the Virginia militia, and in 1794 he was sent as part of a detachment that was involved in putting down the Whiskey Rebellion. In 1795, Lewis joined the United States Army and rose to the rank of captain.

Lewis was appointed as Secretary to the President by President Thomas Jefferson in 1801, and when Jefferson began to plan for an expedition across the continent, he chose Lewis to lead the expedition. After the Louisiana Purchase in 1803, the two-year exploration by Lewis and Clark was the first transcontinental expedition to the Pacific Coast by the United States.

After returning from the expedition, Lewis received a reward of 1,600 acres of land. He also initially made arrangements to publish the Corps of Discovery journals, but had difficulty completing his writing. In 1807, Jefferson appointed him governor of the Louisiana Territory, where he published the first laws and established roads. However, his record as an administrator was mixed, and he died in 1809 from gunshot wounds in what was either a murder or suicide.

The Vanities are an electro-rock duo from Cardiff made up of Rhys Bradley (vocals/guitar) and Adam Hill (bass guitar). Following a riotous period of early success in the noughties, the band retreated into a self-imposed, decade-long exile before returning in 2021 with their critically acclaimed album, “2001”.

Lead single “London” was singled out for particular praise and enjoyed heavy rotation on BBC Radio Wales, leading to the band supporting New Romantic legend Tony Hadley on his 40th anniversary tour in 2022.

The Vanities return in 2023 with new single, “Private Army”. A notable shift from their signature 80s sound, “Private Army” is an epic orchestral affair, a haunting lament on the folly of humankind in the new era of war in Europe.

The band will be playing a small number of select “unplugged” shows in support of the release, including two dates with Peter Cox of 80s icons Go West.

01/04/23 – The Second 45
15/04/23 – TIWNFEST
29/04/23 – HMV Cardiff
16/05/23 – Acapela Studio w. Peter Cox (SOLD OUT)
17/05/23 – Acapela Studio w. Peter Cox

Merlyn Hawke was a predator.

A sick one at that.

He was the ultimate Zooadist- he hated all animals -except that is his two hunting dogs, a lurcher called Addams and a Jack Russell Terrier, named Nipper, because that’s what he did to his Ex-Wife.

Merlyn had a small kennel on some land he had pinched from the Commoners Association on the Penygarnddu Common near Dowlais Top.

He had always been an outdoorsman, with his wrinkled and weathered face making him look much older than his actual  65 years of age.

Merlyn had always enjoyed causing pain to animals, his earliest memory was of his father, Buzzard, encouraging him at the age of four to throw stones at the multitude of rats that inhabited the open sewer of the Morlais Brook, that ran down from Dowlais through Penydarren, carrying the effluent and pollution from a population ravaged by Industrial pollution.

At six, he had already learned the dark art of shooting tree sparrows with his Diana SP50 slug gun.

He enjoyed burning insects with matches and cutting worms in half with a scissors and watching try to regenerate before cutting them in half again.

It was no surprise then that as an adult, he become involved in the local fox hunting scene, not for the Boxing Day pomp and ceremony but he was first to admit for him it was purely to see a defenceless animal ripped apart by a pack of bloodthirsty hounds.

They say that evil isn’t born but made.

Merlyn Hawke appeared to be the exception to this rule.

Merlyn didn’t live like most people in 2023, he lived off the grid- he had made himself a bivouac out of branches and lived off the land in the Taf Fechan Woodland Area.

He had few Earthly possessions but despite this fact he had booby trapped the area around his makeshift home with bear traps to foil the unwary.

His eco-home blended into the woodland with only a Stephen King -style Red Indian ‘Dreamcatcher’ the only evidence of his existence on Planet Earth.

Merlyn didn’t believe in the concept of money- to him it was just a legal fiction- designed to keep the lower classes in economic slavery- he had what he needed from Mother Nature by way of food, foraging for nuts, berries and mushrooms and of course meat from rabbits, voles and fish when he could get them.

He had modelled himself on the Sylvester Stallone character, John J Rambo although without the Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Merlyn had never claimed a single penny but spent many a penny marking his scent on the proliferation of hawthorn bushes and ash trees in and around the Taf Fechan River.

Just like a bear, he too shat in the woods and wiped his caked arse on the Dock leaves that were in abundance in his little valley.

Merlyn avoided society like the plague, had never had any form of inoculation as his late parents had not believed in them.

Surprisingly, Merlyn had rarely been ill since he left school at 11 , mainly due to his lack of contact with other humans especially since his estrangement from his ‘wife’, Jane.

They weren’t married in the eyes of the law, but had followed his parents traditions by ‘jumping the broom’ together.

It did however, confuse the Hell out of the Council Street Cleaner.

Merlyn had decided that his dogs were much more reliable and trustworthy than humans and certainly far more loyal.

When they went hunting together, he always ensured that the dogs got a fair share of any catch- both in terms of meat and the marrow from the bones too.

Nipper was very partial to rabbit stew and he would place a bowl out for him once it had sufficiently cooled after transfer from his big metal stewpot.

Merlyn had recently found a little human companionship with a local lad, formerly of Romany extract.

He had taught Merlyn the delights of eating hedgehogs and of course their use as a toothpick.

His name was Perry, which was short for Peregrine and Merlyn had experienced great delight in taking him under his wing.

They both enjoyed hunting together taking Nipper & Addams on long walks to pastures new.

Perry had his own pet , a tame ferret called Flusher- which he had so-named after finding him in an outdoor toilet when he was a kid.

Flusher lived in a side pocket of his camouflage trousers and went everywhere with Perry in his trews.

He still lived with his elderly 40 year old Grandmother, on the caravan park at Glynmil situated between two busy roads on the Slip Road.

He knew that soon he would have to find new ‘digs’ because it was a Romany tradition to burn out the wooden didicoi after the owner had died.

Today, Merlyn & Perry had been up to the kennels early, as they had planned to go hunting together near Brecon and it would be a long days haul, as neither of them drove or possessed a car for any purpose.

As usual the pair followed the line of the River as they headed North.

Not far from Talybont, the dogs picked up the scent of an animal and began to turn in a circle to notify Merlyn of this fact.

They knew that hunting rabbits and small mammals was allowed but certain creatures were off-limits with their dogs, especially when it came to foxes.

Not that the pair had any reservations about the fact- as they would do so undetected anyway.

Lurcher Addams had the keenest nose of the canines - a fact that Merlyn boasted about -claiming that his dog could smell a rabbit fart from five miles away-as long as Perry wasn’t upwind of course.

The pair of dogs took off at speed, as they hurtled up the valley and then pounded up a steep embankment in search of the source.

Perry ran after them but Merlyn being more advanced in years was a lot less light footed.

The pair had stopped near a large hole with the entrance partially obscured by ferns and bracken.

Addams and Nipper were now being restrained by their collars, as they we’re definitely onto something.

Barking and hollering at the hole.

Merlyn suspected that it wasn’t a Warren but couldn’t be certain as to what creature the dogs were sensing.

The hole was larger than an otter’s holt and probably too far away from the river in any event.

He turned to Perry and asked his opinion.

“Not sure ….but I suggest we send Flusher here on a scouting mission!” Said the youngster.

Reaching into the side pocket of his camouflaged trews, he lifted the little mammal out very carefully.

He knew from experience that the little member of the weasel family possessed tiny but very sharp teeth.

Sharper teeth than the zip of the second hand pair of knock-off Levi jeans that he once found in a bin that had taken his foreskin off.

Boy did he curse the bastard that had shat in them and then dumped them.

He lifted Flusher to the hole and he merrily made his way inside.

Flusher wasn’t normally scared of anything.

He had once dispatched eights rats in less than five minutes when he had entered the Waterloo House culvert near Penyard.

The camp had eaten well that night.

Even if the young uns had asked as to why their hedgehog tasted a bit funny.

Perry had laughed it off under the cover of a joke, where two cannibals were in the process of cooking a circus clown.

They agreed that also had tasted ‘funny’ too.

Flusher disappeared from view but suddenly returned as he retreated backwards out of the hole- such an event Perry had not witnessed before.

It literally was a ‘reverse ferret’.

Strange thought Perry.

“I’ll send in Nipper!” said Merlyn.

In through the dark earthen hole went the Jack Russell only to come back out missing his collar and half of his ear.

“Jesus…what’s in there?” Said Merlyn looking aghast at Perry.

It was Addams turn to try and flush out the occupant.

Initially, the second dog made some progress, but being much bigger in size and more muscular, the Lurcher got trapped in the burrow and had to be dragged out by his back legs with blood dripping from his face having been attacked by something.

“Your turn!” said Merlyn barking out an order to his young human companion.

Perry, not being the sharpest tool in the box, felt ‘under pressure’ and despite the obvious risk to his health decided he would squeeze up the narrow tunnel and see what critter was inside for himself.

Like an Egyptian pyramid tomb raider, Perry shuffled his way up the passageway - he was not bothered about being covered in grime or insects -after all he was of Romany stock- but he was apprehensive about what he might be facing.

With a miniature torch in his mouth, he crawled along the earthy tunnel like Charles Branson in the Film the Great Escape-as he reached the end he peered inside and was shocked to see its occupants.

He immediately retreated narrowly avoiding the swipe of a set of razor sharp claws on the end of a furry paw.

Shuffling backwards he made it out of the burrow far quicker than he had entered.

Merlyn was desperate to know what he had encountered.

“Th…th…there is a Q..Q…Queen in there!” Stuttered Perry.

“Queen?…..there are bees in there?” Asked Merlyn looking puzzled.

“No …that bloke from Queen was in there….the one with the frizzy hair and an electric guitar!” Replied Perry.

“How the Hell did he get IN THERE?” Asked Merlyn.

“ How the Hell did he get on the Buckingham Palace roof to play God save the Queen?…I don’t know that either?” Replied Perry.

Merlyn decided the only way forward was that he must investigate the opening for himself.

Perhaps his gypsy friend had eaten too many magic mushrooms and was hallucinating?

As he crawled along the narrow tunnel he began to feel jittery, he was never good with enclosed spaces - he stopped a foot or so before the end of the crawl space and peered into the wider chamber and as his eyes adjusted to the underground gloom, he was shocked to see a rather cavernous drop and even more shocked to discover humans sitting there anticipating his arrival.

There was the original guitar hero, Brian May from Queen and alongside him sat Mike Batt staring back at him with ‘Bright Eyes’ and James Dean Bradfield of the Manic Street Creatures.

“What the Hell are you guys doing in here?” Asked Merlyn in disbelief.

“Protecting the badgers!” Replied May without hesitation.

“Why?” Continued Merlyn still in shock head protruding into the badger hole.

“See I did warn you….said Bradfield to Batt.

“If you tolerate this then your Wombles will be next!” warbled Bradfield.

Mike Batt just nodded in agreement.

“Aren’t you guys worried about getting tuberculosis in here?” queried Merlyn.

“The link between badgers and bovine tuberculosis has never been proven!” raged May.

“If you continue with this line of questioning….we will…we will …Brock you!” threatened the Killer Queen.

Merlyn’s eyes were suddenly drawn to the fact that there was a huge sharp badger claw rigged on a booby trap wire above his head.

“More importantly what were YOU doing sending your dogs into a badger hole…I believe they call it ….badger baiting? “queried Queen Brian.

In the narrow confines of his earthy coffin, Merlyn found it hard to shake his head in faux denial- as he attempted to do so- loose soil fell from the tunnel ceiling onto his face causing him to appear to nod accidentally, as he tried to dodge the dust.

“Get Sett Go!” shouted May and the claw swished across the aperture and with a direct hit scratched both of Merlyn’s eyeballs at once damaging his optic nerves as it went.

The Hunter had now become the hunted.

“You bastards….,” Merlyn screamed as the blood began to fill up in his eyes.

“ Another one bites the dust!” laughed May and Bradfield ‘manically’

“ Karma is a bitch!” spat back blind as a Batt- Merlyn….” I’ll be back with more female dogs and sort you do gooders out once and for all!” 

“Don’t stop me now!….the show must go on!” May sung theatrically, as he applied a giant mole thumper to the trespasser’s head….shooting Merlyn out of the hole quicker than Mercury.

As the huntsman flew past Perry even the two dogs were silent.

The only faint sound audible to both human and canine alike came from the hole and was a trio singing

“We are the Champions ….of the Worms!”