From today's Common Dreams - Hiroshima Peace Declaration

Lee Hazlewood, Rest In Peace

Genius, esp the commentary

Mike Reid, Rest In Peace

Brilliant Sly Stone live clip

Clark and Michael

It's a sad today in the Socialism condo today - our favourite web based TV show, Clark and Michael, is over. The last episode got streamed yesterday, bringing the the voyage of discovery of our titular heroes to the end. If you weren't on this already and you've got a spare hour and a bit, go back to the start at their site and roll through the 10 episodes. It's ace.

Missing them already!

It doesn't get any better

We love Lindsay

Loving...

It's been a shit couple of weeks, what better time to drop on you all the stuff that's still raising a smile here at Socialism towers?

Super Furry Animals "Hey Venus" (esp "Suckers" - best thing they've ever done)
Fujiya & Miyagi "Ankle Injuries" & the 7 on Regal (esp the B side)
Catcall "Diss"
Black Moth Super Rainbow "Dandelion Gum" (esp "Forever Heavy" - best title ever)
Beastie Boys "So Watcha Want?"
Edwyn Collins "Home Again" (comeback of the century)
Simone White "I Am The Man"
the Sly Stone reissues/hoping the gig is great this weekend
Underworld "Second Toughest In The Infants" (still sounds ahead of it's time)
The Chemical Brothers "We Are The Night"
R Kelly "Double Up" (check "Real Talk... oooh mama, what a number!)
Lovefoxxx at Latitude
Guilty Pleasures at Latitude
Clark & Michael (anything with Michael Cera, really)
David Cross live at the 100 Club the other week
the new bar at Ronnie Scotts (they gave us a git load of free wine today)
the Battles record
The Green Man Festival (fuck the weather, going fully loaded anyway)
Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve live at GMEX in Manchester
Pink Grease "LSD"
the new Turbonegro album
Cormac McCarthy "Blood Meridian" (and "No Country For Old Men" and "The Road")
the Brian Wilson exhibition at the Tate St Ives
Caught By The River.net
and Boris running for Mayor...

But what would Julian Cope say???

Total genius...

Socialism Magazine has been barred from Farcebook.

Some very nice artworks

There's a damn fine night at the Social in London which has always encouraged people to, quite literally, get involved (whether shaking maracas or doing guest artwork), hence it's name, which is... Get Involved. Last month they encouraged people to doctor a blank poster and send their own ideas in. Now they've stuck them all on a website - we thought we'd link to them 'cos they are bloody fantastic. Next Get Involved is first Thursday of August, then first Thursday or every subsequent month.

Get Involved

Impossible Is The Opposite Of Possible

Stop Smiling

The new issue of Stop Smiling (aka "the magazine for high-minded lowlifes") fell through my letterbox yesterday - 31 issues in and these guys continue to produce one of the best magazines available anywhere. This issue, a Deep South special, continues to set the bar ridiculously high. Really worth seeking out, can't praise highly enough. Great logo too.

Find Stop Smiling online here

Hats Off To Michael Moore!!

LIVE EARTH: THE TRUTH

The crap that people write. Keane the hit of Live Earth? Snow Patrol 'inspiring'? Johnny Borrell's feeble attempts to summon up the Dionysian Lizardry of Jimbo one of those unforgettable 'communal TV moments'? Do leave off. You may have missed this footage, beamed live to the UK from South America at two in the morning. It involves a rock star doing what rock stars do best. Witness, oh hapless Class Of 2007, and weep...

How's this for hotting up the planet???

A Socialism Hero Passes Away...

Sad to report that George Melly has passed away. The jazz man, fisher and raconteur was as much a fixture of Soho as The French House, Ronnie Scotts and the mad old bird who comes in the pubs blagging pound coins. Having worked and drunk in W1 since 1994, having started the mag off here in 2004 (Christ how come we've only managed 4 fucking issues????), we've spent many an time sat in pubs where Melly can be heard regaling the bar with bawdy stories of how Soho used to be. What a bloke, will be missed.

George Melly, Rest In Peace

What Took You So Long...

Finally, sense prevails...

Hold Music

I was sat in a hotel room the other day, Popworld on the telly, bored senseless, when my girlfriend asked why there had to be so much new music all the time. She posited the idea that we should have a rest year from all new music, allowing ourselves a year to catch up and to discover all the music that has passed us by (not even rediscover - so many albums end up un-played, still all cellophane wrapped and unloved). It’s what everyone with an opinion and a few pints/a line or two in them starts crapping on about that they should do with Big Brother in order to refresh the format, give it a year or two off and let it breathe again. I thought, “Bloody hell, you know what, she’s on to something here”. I thought this as I watched the telly and saw the best that British music currently had on offer.

By God, it was bad. I saw Jack Penate, a hapless looking buffoon playing a horrible brand of needy indie skiffle, the one bloke who as a kid must have stared long and hard at the Fine Young Cannibals “Suspicious Minds” video and thought that the rubber legged guys dancing looking ‘cool’. Unfortunately for everyone, his oxen like physique doesn’t add much by way of gracefulness to his leaden prance-about. I’m sure he’s a top bloke, but fuck me, is this necessary? He has all the charm of ‘Just William’ shortly after crapping his pants, caught scrumping apples, just prior to a brutal, very deserved, caning. Next up, I saw TV advertising for The Holloways album, called, oh yes, “So This Is Great Britain?” – wow, no shit, People’s Poet, what else you got for us? The final straw was some former X Factor-er or Pop Idol or whatever playing blow football against Alex James (not even going there…) – the depths people will stoop to in order to get the last few seconds of fame they so crave, almost funny if it wasn’t so wincingly desperate. Neither the glorified Simon Cowell sanctioned pub singer or that (the insult I used here has been deemed possibly too harsh) who makes the cheese now managed to get a word in against the chirruping, gently sardonic unfunny presenters. After that, every successive act that lumbered on screen was like the Glastonbury mud or the Big Brother house gruel - just there, sticking to your shoes, sticking in your throat, unnecessary, annoying in the extreme – just more tedious excuses for music.

It was pretty soon after this that I started wondering whether maybe it’s just that I’m too old now and I’m starting to feel an affinity with old war horses like Luke Haines and Bill Drummond and their respective attempts to block out music from modern life, to foster an appreciation for the good stuff by silencing the bad out for a day or a week or whatever. I also pondered that maybe there was something in the air that day – that very morning I’d read with wide-eyed amazement about newsreader Mika Brzezinski’s refusal to read out a lead story on Paris Hilton on the MSNBC breakfast show. Her determination to cut off the oxygen supply of celebrity to someone so undeserving of it felt to me like the first wave breaking on a turning tide. Maybe her fantastically laudable act could be the spark that starts a move away from a smash and grab culture of instant gratification, the constant struggle to keep up with the Joneses, to keep feeling you have to give a fuck about the mundane or worse, just because it’s new and that’s what people like nowadays. Well maybe, at the end of the day, when it comes to giving a shit, the people are fucking stupid. Maybe now is the time to strike a blow to stop wave after wave of sallow faced, gimlet eyed indie bands, go back to a few old records, stop and smell the flowers rather than sprinting to the NME tent to see Kate Nash before she’s deemed unfashionable. Fuck a culture that lends a badge of honour to every bright young thing just cos they are shiny and new, regardless of whether they’re talented or not (‘cos let’s face it, most of these goons wouldn’t pass muster against, say Birdland, Fabulous or the second Suede album). I want out.

Yes, I thought, I’ve fucking had it with new music, the Mrs is right, let’s have that year off and reboot the whole fucking system. That's what I thought as I lay back and flicked open my Mojo 80’s special edition with exclusive Police interview on the cover as that new fucking Macca number hammers away on the telly on an I Pod advert... yes, this is what’s it’s all about…

Old news here but they've got a point...

Luke Haines National Pop Strike

Bill Drummond’s No Music Day

Been away for a week...

Sorry for the delay in service, just got out of the mud at Glastonbury, thought I was going to be one of those feral people that they find on site tripping their nuts off after taking too much rain damaged acid or something... anyways, back to work... the best thing we've found since being away is the create your own Simpsons character on their site - get on it...

this rules...

Bernard Manning - RIP?

Well, he's dead, sure he's pissing himself about it somewhere the old bastard. One of his less horrendous moments...

Clark & Michael

Socialism contributor and all round lord of the dance Andrew Kelly got us into "Arrested Development" all those years back. He then pointed out the David Cross was doing 10 nights just round the corner from our offices (we're going tomorrow). Finaly, he popped this link our way - a frankly genius web TV series about two kids and their attempts to get a TV pilot made. It's much better than I just made it sound. Updated every Wednesday, get on it now before everyone is crapping on about it. Like I am.

Clark & Michael

New Issue Of The Believer...

Best magazine around at the moment, The Believer, has it's annual music issue out right now. Typically brilliant, it's got an ace CD free with it (featuring Lightning Bolt, Sufjan Stevens and a load of other crazies). More importantly, it has an interview with Terence Trent D'Arby. What more do you need to know???

Jack & Megabyte

Jack White sure as hell knows how to market himself senseless. Yes, those White Stripes USB sticks you've been after for so long are finally available via the band's website. Got to say, I'm sorely tempted by a Meg one...

Jack & Megabyte White

The Mooch meets the Monkeys...

Dr Tobias Funke comes to town...

A REALLY LOVELY NIGHT OUT WITH DAVID CROSS & FRIENDS”, 100 CLUB, 100 OXFORD STREET, LONDON W1
19TH – 30TH JUNE 2007 (TUES – SAT)

He’s back. US comedy star David Cross returns triumphantly to London after almost 3 years away, and this time brings with him some friends. David will be performing for just TWO weeks at the 100 Club, Oxford Street from 19th-30th June, 2007. Also performing each night will be a selection of some of the best American stand-ups as hand-picked by David himself.

David Cross is renowned for his no-holds barred stand-up shows and has often been likened to Bills Hicks and Lenny Bruce. His irreverence pushes the boundaries of controversy with a warm style and spot on delivery that has his audiences across the world in stitches.

David started his career as a writer on The Ben Stiller Show and went on to co-create and present the groundbreaking, Emmy nominated HBO series Mr Show with Bob and David which aired 30 episodes over 4 years. He is perhaps best known for his role as Tobias Funke in Golden Globe nominated Fox Network comedy Arrested Development. He has also been featured in films including Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Ghost World, The Cable Guy, Waiting for Guffman and Men in Black (1 & 2).

His debut album, Shut Up You Fucking Baby, was the first comedy CD to be released by US label SubPop and was nominated for a Grammy Award. This was followed by a DVD that captured the behind-the-scenes of the tour, called Let America Laugh. His second CD It’s Not Funny was released in the UK.

“David Cross isn’t the voice of his generation – he’s more like the voice snickering at the back of the room to his friend about how lame his generation, the generation before and the generation after him is.” New Music Monthly

Cross’s true gift is that he’s pointed and side-splitting at the same time while never sounding like he’s doing a ‘bit’. He often supports top US bands such as The Strokes, and other numerous fans include Jack Black and Dave Eggers.

“A master of observational and political comedy” Time Out

“His seemingly spontaneous stand-up marks him out as a seriously skilled performer” Metro

“Appallingly funny” The Observer

“Not just the highlight of the week, the highlight of the month A cut above the rest. The most exciting comedian to hit London” Evening Standard

“Extremely funny….Cross has a talent to make the audience feel ashamed of their laughter” Jewish Chronicle

"If you miss an opportunity to see him perform...you're a total a-hole. David Cross dominates my world. I would crawl through glass to see him take a shit" Jack Black

So this morning, on my cycling route into work, having stopped at a road works traffic light around Gray's Inn Road I notice Boris Johnson pulling up alongside me. He looks brilliant, suited and booted, hair wild in the breeze, properly, fantastically eccentric as always. He inches in front, then, when the coast looks clear, jumps the red light.

Sod this thought me and the 4 other cyclists in front of me - if an MP can do it, we can.

He then rides up onto the pavement whilst we continue forwards on the road... into a lane of fast moving traffic coming our way. He cruises away, up the pedestrian walkway, whilst we have to navigate furious rush hour motorists screaming abuse at us as we plough up their lane, dicing with death, shitting it.

The moral of this tale? Never, ever trust a fucking Tory.

“I can’t help it if she checkin’ for a platinum type kind of guy…”

Start of June and we’re about halfway through the new issue, featuring words with Andrew Loog Oldham, Ian Astbury & Alain De Botton (that’s just the As) - all that’s keeping us going, apart from the British summer and whatever booze is left in the office fridge, is the new album from R Kelly. “Double Up” is stone cold pimpin’, I cannot stress enough how out-there-genius this record is. Take, for example, first single “I’m A Flirt” - a song where he basically warns dudes not to even introduce their girlfriends to him as he WILL shag them. By the time he declares “Let me remind you that I am the king of R&B”, who the fuck is going to disagree with the dude???? I mean, check the video for fuck’s sake, he’s wearing a pair of glasses with diamond encrusted lenses that I’m assuming that must be nigh on impossible to see through. We can't even begin to go into "The Zoo", "Real Talk" or the mother and father of all jams, "Sex Planet".

Shit dudes - great attitude, honorary Socialist, every time.

Have spent longer than strictly necessary watching this today...

Lovefoxxx doing some kind of dance ritual/aerobics workout to the sound of the Bloodhound Gang - I mean, it doesn't get much better for us, really...

Black Mountain

Currently loving the new Black Mountain, off of the Spiderman soundtrack (in what crazed world, etc etc)... anyways, in the absence of a new record, thought it was worth putting this druganaut of a record up... come on smell the rock...

"If Everybody Had An Ocean"

We here at Socialism towers aren’t adverse to a bit of culture from time to time, despite outward appearances. This week we were beyond privileged to get an very early viewing of the Brian Wilson exhibition down at the Tate in St Ives (they were still hanging the thing when we saw it), which made a nice change from our usual Bukowski-esque barfly behaviour in the Smoke (sitting and talking crap in the back booth of the Social until they turf us out in the cold, miserable night). So, on Thursday morning, we cut work, and, in the company of fellow Beach Boys obsessive and Socialism contributor Sean Rowley, headed west towards perfect weather, the rolling beaches of the Cornish coast and the West Coast's pop art experiment.

Much like the Jeremy Deller curated exhibition “Unconvention” did with the music of Manic Street Preachers back at the turn of the millennium in Cardiff, “If Everybody Had An Ocean” takes it's inspiration from the life and work of Brian Wilson, finding artworks that reflect four distinct periods of the songwriter’s life (from the early ‘60s through to the mid ‘70s). Lovingly put together by Alex Farquharson, the exhibition takes a journey from Brian’s optimistic musical beginnings, where the Hawthorne, California quintet’s primary cares were girls, cars, staying out late and worrying about parental disapproval through to the paranoid, acid fried period where Charles Manson was a good friend of the family, in each case using pieces that evoke the prevailing moods of the times. Here, mainstay artists like Peter Blake and Bridget Riley sit alongside ( less famous Californians (to me anyway...) such as Sister Corita Kent (an LA based nun whose pop art graphic work was an inspiration to Charles Eames and Saul Bass) and Ed Ruscha (whose exhaustive work documenting every building on Sunset Strip reflect the gasoline dreams of teenagers in the Sunshine state in the ‘60s). In room two, all begins to surrealistically drift as details from the sleeve of “Smile” are disembodied and blown up and giant cartoon doors lie propped against walls, leading us to nowhere. One room, reflecting Brian’s meltdown and Dennis’ relationship with Manson, appears to be modelled on the “Black Classroom” from the drugs episode of Brass Eye - a badly looped, crazily warped piano line plays somewhere in the darkness while a projection of reel to reel tape recorder made entirely out of paper goes round and round on a screen. Needless to say it’s absolutely brilliant.

It’s an odd thing but what could have so easily have been a sterile exercise in trying to transpose ‘highbrow’ concepts onto what could be seen to be a ‘lowbrow’ form of entertainment, “If Everybody Had An Ocean” is actually far more inspirational, far warmer and less cynical than recent Wilson shows (trying to get a Glastonbury audience at the last festival to sing a Christmas song whilst knee deep in mud was not one of my Brian highlights, it must be said). The overall effect is to send the visitor scurrying back to “Pet Sounds”, to “Surf’s Up”; to “In My Room” and “Til I Die” (two of the songs whose lyrics are highlighted on the walls). As we leave the quant English seaside town the next day, with it’s beach full of surfers and cool cool water, we’re struck by Cornwall’s transformation into California and the fact that the Tate is currently home to the perfect mix of Pop and Art. Essential viewing – one tip, just make sure you load up the ipod with surf music before you hit the seaside for the full experience on the walkthrough...

So Sue Us...

Our math rock obsession just went public - what a record! Sounds like "Mechanical Animals" era Manson meets the Sweet meets Four Tet meets my demented bomb-headed dreams. Great stuff...

Andrew Loog Oldham by Pete Fowler

Next issue of Socialism will feature an exclusive interview with one of the all time greats, Mr Andrew Loog Oldham. Now seems like as good a time as any to run Pete Fowler's portrait of A Lo that ran in Time Out a year or two back. Issue 5 of the 'Ism is due in the Summer, promise it's worth waiting for!

Hawkins Watch week 2

We're still reeling from this - The Darkness's Justin Hawkins return to the the world of lunatic heavy rock - out and out one of the best things we've heard all year...

Something For The Weekend...

Back in the day, I used to be obsessed with this programme - Chris Needham's video diary. Must have watched it 500 times. Still quote it all the time now. Thankfully, some helpful soul has posted the whole thing on YouTube in 7 parts (Christ, it's the gift that just keeps on giving!) - sit back, strap yourself in, enjoy...
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven

Socialism most played record of year so far...

Great video too...

Oh come on, we've all been there...

Yeah, man...

HAWKINS IS GOD... NOT STEPHEN, THE OTHER ONE!!

In the wake of last Saturday's Eurovision fiasco, ex-Darkness singer Justin Hawkins has again proved himself to be a man of untold wisdom. Having failed in his bid to provide the nation with a decent song for the event (performed dressed up as a Cavalier), he has passed judgment on the dismal efforts of Scooch, who ended up second last, and that only because the Irish took pity on us. "I think Scooch lost because they were rubbish" he said, correctly. "The BBC shouldn't have put it forward. It was supposed to be different this year. The clues in the title, Eurovision Song Contest. It should have been a song".

The winner? Serbia. Nuff said. Second? Ukraine, with what looked like Sue Pollard dressed up as one of the Clangers, whilst two blokes in silver lederhosen did impersonations of Richard, the 'Sexual Terrorist' from last year's Big Brother. Are these places even real countries? On this evidence, they shouldn't be.

And to think we could have had the man behind coke-addicts anthem 'One Way Ticket To Hell' on there, bringing the erm, trophy home. All together now: "It was a dusty old night/ And I'm the first to admit it/ I am sure I upset someone/But my memory has chosen to omit it..." - watch it and think what could have been, brothers and sisters...

By the way, it's worth pointing out that Justin Hawkins, doin' it for the kids light years before Mika, was one of only two people to ever turn down an interview with Socialism - his press officer brushed us off with the words "I think Justin is a little big for this, don't you?" The other one was Andrew Neil. Hmmm.

Socialism Salutes...

some wise words from Bill Drummond, interviewed back in the KLF days...

Bernard Manning Sings The Smiths

Obviously genius.

We're feeling Rush today...

...though any explanation of the lyrics would be appreciated... worried it's some crazed call to arms for hillbilly crazies and psycho loners... i.e. Socialism staff...

Socialism favourite Jeremy Deller...

...talks Holloway Road, Huggy Bear, The Sunday Social, The Chemical Brothers and cycling... we salute the genius of Deller...

The Mooch part III

Give Mooch a chance!!!

Been watching Look Around You all weekend...

Reh Dogg - mofuckin' Original Gangsta

Thanks to Thomas/Risky Dazzle for this work of utter genius.

Been listening to...

"Another Green World" by Brian Eno - such a brilliant record... someone wacked one of the tracks on YouTube with a video so minimal it deserves a 'good attitude'... worth digging this record out, it gets better with age (yours and its).

Admit it, we've all been there...

Thanks to Rolling Stone for putting this our way...

No reason needed...

Harden the fuck up!

When Bondage Goes Wrong

Oh dear, poor old Boy George (old Boy - possibly Man George now) - "I bring a bloke back from the pub and all this happens..." - anyways, here he is, in happier times, laughing and funning and Krishna-ing like everything is hunky dory.

Jarvis announces Meltdown line up...

...and the stuff of a madman's dreams, i.e the chance to see Motorhead at the Royal Festival Hall, becomes a distinct (albeit totally crazed) reality...

PC gone mad

Oh fuck off, it made me the man I am today.

Anyone else think this sounds like a really stupid idea?

Erm... anyone got any?

Your new Myspace best friends...

That's what I'm talkin' about!

Phil Spector in the dock...

But, mainly we remember the good times...

Don't Do Drugs, Kids!

Florrie Fisher tells a story
Uploaded by RichJuz

The Mooch Vs Arctic Monkeys

Representing Brooklyn, the Mooch tells it like it is... singing the old time Doo Wop songs... good attitude, Dude!

Lee Scratch Perry at work...

From 1985, this is totally and utterly brilliant...

Boris Yeltsin, RIP

We salute you, Comrade!

April 2007, Socialism checks for...

Brand New…

The summer already – one possible upside of global warming (and yet one more fucking downside - I’ve got fucking hayfever already and it’s only April);
The Chemical Brothers “We Are The Night” – this has been punching my lights out regularly, a work of genius;
Mountain Machine – chug-a-lug sludge rock to be played at full volume all the time;
Bjork “Earth Invaders” – Timberland/Konono No 1 bring the noise – sounds like a steel band being kicked down a metal staircase – no bad thing:
the Modest Mouse record;
Blackmoth Superrainbow – sounds like the first Air album recorded by a bunch of Manson Family style evil hippies;
Hot Chip “My Piano” – proper demento piano house nonsense, awesome;
The Youth Group poster Biddy sent us, a stone cold beaut!;
The Golden Cobra coffee – best damn cup o’ joe in the world;
Manic Street Preachers “Send Away The Tigers” – easily their best album since “The Holy Bible”;
The Robyn record, still;
The Silents;
Peep Show series 4 (esp. Sophie’s brother – how much I’d pay to hear that fucking track)
Beyond The Wizard’s Sleeve “George” EP – mindbending 21st sentury syke;
Meantime Brewery Helle’s Bier – that’s the weekend gone then…
…and all the usual stuff.

…You’re Retro...

Sly Stone reissues – “Fresh” & “Stand!” both rivalling “There’s A Riot…”;
Underworld “Second Toughest In The Infants” – galloping robo poof douf techno and liberal doses of the dustbowl Delta blues - sounds better 10 years on than ever;
Prefab Sprout “Steve McQueen” reissue (esp acoustic versions);
Talk Talk “Colour Of Spring” (except the one with the kids on it)
Alain De Botton's bloody marvellous book "The Art Of Travel"
"The Power Of Nightmares" doc by Adam Curtis from a few years back, now on DVD through Wholphin mag;
"2 Stoned" by Andrew Loog Oldham - pretty much the Socialism bible.

...And, frankly, this is just altogether a bit Tricky

Going to a finance meeting to raise dollars for the next issue of the rag and the guy clearly thinks you are a fucking student even though you are, in fact, a grim faced 36 year old man with a lot of grey hair. There is no way on Earth to take that well.

Our Social(ism) Conscience Is Pricked...

Christ, here goes another one - The Spitz is in grave danger of being "redeveloped" later this year. So that means this year we'll have lost Hammersmith Palais, the Astoria will still be in serious danger from either "development" or the Crossrail train system(and, with that, the Mean Fiddler - lets face it, its the same building) and the Garage still hasn't re-opened. I mean - some perspective - where the fuck am I supposed to go to get a warm flat pint in a plastic glass and hear some badly dressed jerk-off wailing away while I wait for the main band???? Seriously though, would be a nightmare if any more of these venues bite the dust - The Spitz is a brilliant venue, also it really is just the tip of the iceberg.

Sign the petition to try to save the Spitz here, kids!

CSS Playing Here This Weekend...

...what better excuse do we need to watch them on the hunt for that most superfly Socialism hero, Cat Power...

Something For The Weekend, Sir?

Think this link works... Gay Dad performing their stone cold classic "Oh Jim"... Cliff Jones we salute your genius yet again...

Keith - the debate rages...

So the most dim-witted member of arguably the most musically laughable band on the planet has decied to slag off Keith Richards for his latest dad-snorting revelations. Tell NBC to cancel the West Virginia massace coverage and alert the New Yorker!

The cultural impact, of course, has been the equivalent of a minature fly crashing into the Post Office Tower (which, yes, is in London). How sad and desperately parochial. Sad sassenagh hating retard, who never got over the fact his country was over-run in the year 600 by, probably, similar ‘unlikeable, London pirate-like arseholes’. What are the chances these dismal orcs once begged for a Stones support in Slovenia and were turned down because Maximo Park offered more money? Still, the first National Express coach back to nowheresville awaits.

Toodle pip, old boy, as Keith would say, solid silver coke spoon in hand…..

From yesterday's CMU Daily mailout...

MOGWAI MAN WOULD LIKE KEITH RICHARDS TO DIE
Talking of Rolling Stones, Mogwai's Barry Burns has been sharing his thoughts on Keith Richards and recent reports, since denied, that the guitarist had snorted his father's ashes.

In a post on Mogwai's official website entitled 'Keith please cease breathing' Burns wrote: "Hi everyone. I just woke up to find that average blues guitar pedlar and all round unlikeable London pirate-like arsehole Keith Richards snorted his dad's ashes on a drug binge. Well done Keith, you talentless publicity hungry horrible prick of the highest order. He then goes on to say modern bands are a load of old crap. Right, but can we really listen to the opinions of a nasal cannibal?"


He continues: "Keith, your band are possibly the worst band in the history of human events, worse even than Placebo and The Reynolds Girls combined. Your posh English singer sings with an American accent about a load of old American prostitutes he met once and your guitar licks are Grade F. The sooner you die the quicker my Ladbrokes bet comes in between you and McCartney you old dick. I hope you kick the bucket in the most humiliating of ways, like on the toilet and then being eaten by your own dog. Stop living and give us peace you attention seeking non relevant oxygen thief".

Because It's Wednesday...

...and this still sends holy motherfucking shivers down the spine... thanks to James E for reminding us of this...

The Ferry Clan Have Got It Goin ' On!!!

Now we here at Socialism have previously made no bones about our fascination with Otis Ferry, the Icabod Crane alike Parliament raiding huntsmaster. His dad had expressed admiration for his son's "bravery", something that got him booed off at some awards ceremony or other. Fair enough, he's the kid's dad, no matter how bonkers you think he is, you kind of have to say something nice about him. Then this... fuck man, makes you wonder what the hell is in the water over at Ferry towers??? And has anyone told Crispian Mills yet???

From CMU Daily, Tuesday 17th April

FERRY APOLOGISES OVER NAZI COMMENTS

Bryan Ferry has been forced to apologise and make it clear that he's not a Nazi sympathiser, after he made comments in an interview with a German newspaper which expressed admiration for the artistry of the fascist organisation and some of its key exponents. Ferry told newspaper Welt Am Sonntag last month: "The way that the Nazis staged themselves and presented themselves, my Lord! I'm talking about the films of Leni Riefenstahl and the buildings of Albert Speer and the mass marches and the flags - justfantastic. Really beautiful".

Of course, we all know that evil people are as capable of creating beautiful things as nice people, so this shouldn't really have caused a furore, but it has. Following condemnation from a variety of quarters, Ferry has released a statement which read: "I apologise unreservedly for any offence caused by my comments on Nazi iconography, which were solely made from an art history perspective. I, like every right-minded individual, find the Nazi regime, and all it stood for, evil and abhorrent".

The apology was welcomed by Jeremy Newmark, chief executive of the UK's Jewish Leadership Council, who said: "We do welcome the fact that he has issued a swift comment that there was no intention to condone the Nazi regime. Nevertheless, his choice of language was deeply insensitive".

World Jewish Congress vice-president Greville Janner told Reuters: "His apology was total, appropriate and absolutely necessary. I hope that he will never make the same mistake again".

Evolution Revolution

Some Monday monkey music for yous...

If Yr In The Area

In a change from our usual programme of demented Youtube clips and rambles about our tramp issues, thought we'd shamelessly plug something by one of our favourite artists, the very lovely Kavel Rafferty, who has done a super fantastic exhibition down at the original Social (the one on Little Portland Street). The exhibition, Pop Porn, is up for the next few months - go down and spend some time with it, it's bloody ace.

For more Kavel info, check here!

So It Goes...

Kurt Vonnegut, rest in peace

Sly Stone albums reissued this week...

...seemed like a good time to put this bad boy up here...

We're Speechless

Possibly not for the squeamish...

What, what?

A treat for Easter...

One of the all time greats...

It's Very Regrettable...

Bit bored today...

Weller Gobs On Sting

The Mod Fuhrer, he's still got it

YES!

Our New Favourite Band. Ever.

Not sure whether we're late on these bad boys or not, but this is possibly one of the greatest videos I have ever witnessed. Thanks to Biddy for bringing it to my attention and making a wet Thursday morning, sat in the Socialism offices counting the minutes til pub time.

Honorary Socialist Of The Month

Producer Dallas Austin has made some fantastic records over the years - records with TLC, Madonna, Jacko, Sugababes Vs Girls Aloud - all the greats basically. He has also recently made a couple of videos where he rants about how a load of today's biggest female stars are a bunch of skanky ho's who are "fucking for tracks". His monologues are totally deranged and possibly weren't meant for public consumption. Oh well, you can always blame the cheeky old internet, but here he goes, putting the world to rights...

Click here to see the interviews...

And lest we forget his dramatic exit from Dubai last year...

Socialism in the Indie again today!

Thanks to our very good friend, the ever so lovely Sarah Cracknell - we owe you a pint...

Sad Day For Rock...

Justin Hawkins was cruely robbed of the chance to win Eurovision glory for Britian last night. Scooch will now take the UK to the inevitable 'nil points' in Finland. Here is a reminder of Hawkins' genius, his cover of Sparks classic "This Town Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us", which is definitely not the sound of a man clawing at the edges of sanity whilst gakked out of his tiny mind. Good attitude!

It's Fucking Well Jackson

Please let this be true

Stop Press...

The all star indie tribute to the life and times of John Inman has been confirmed for next month. A full scale, Live Aid style production of "Mother Goose" will be held in London next month with a cast of thousands. Socialism will be first with all the news! Musical supervisor - Alex Kapranos.

Tributes continue to pour in to Socialism to the greatest panto dame of them all, John Inman. None were more thought provoking than this from Campag Velocet.

He's Free

We were hoping by now to have run Bobby Gillespie's deeply heartfelt tribute to one of the United Kingdom's greatest all round entertainers, John Inman, who sadly passed away yesterday. Please check back for updates later.

Brett Smiley on Russell Harty

No real reason to run this today other than to salute the genius of Andrew Loog Oldham of a Wednesday morning... enjoy!!

Record Of The Year So Far

Hot Chip mix of Junior Boys - total genius, makes you want to get off yr nut

The Real Princess Of Wales Is Pregnant!!

Socialism salutes our very favourite Welsh woman, Charlotte Church and her bloke, Gavin Henson, who have announced that they're due to have a kid later this year. As a Welshman, the day after Saint David's Day, the day I'm going to see Gruff play live, this fills me with national pride. Also, pretty amazed it took her so long. Most people I went to school with were popping kids by 17. Anyways, hats off!

Socialism Salutes Billy Thorpe - Rest In Peace!

Socialism's second home (in our feverish dreams) is Sydney - beer tastes better, the weather's better, no one gives two shits about the kind of tedious crap we stress about over here... yes, it's our kind of town. Anyways, one of Sydney's favourite sons, Billy Thorpe passed away today. Not really very well know in this neck of the woods, his band, Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs, played the kind of Southern hemisphere hard rockin' boogie that always sounds good when you're sucking down a VB and shouting stuff. Check out his live album "Live At Sunbury" or the clip we've attached for a full on deep hit of Aztecs rock.

Our friend, Socialism writer Andy Kelly (a man who knows his rock), wrote this piece for the Ivy League Records site - a label he runs that is clearly indebted to the great man. We couldn't have put it any better.

"As far as Ivy League are concerned, there has only ever been one Thorpie. With all due respect to "our" recently retired aquatic sensation Ian, the original and the best was Mr Billy Thorpe, legendary Australian singer,songwriter, guitarist and leader of The Aztecs. Tragically, Billy passed away last night in Sydney, and we at Ivy League would like to pay tribute to one of the great pioneers of Australian rock music. Our deepest sympathies go out to his family, friends and bandmates. If you have ever had the pleasure of witnessing a repeat showing of Billy's legendary performance of "Momma" on GTK late at night on the ABC you will understand why he was one of the greatest singers and guitarists Australia has known. If you're a little unsure on where to start, or how best to pay tribute to the great man on this sad day, may we suggest you get yourself a copy of Billy Thorpe and The Aztecs Live At Sunbury, turn it up very loud, pour yourself a glass of beer from a longneck, and marvel at the raw power of one of this countrys great performers. Vale Billy, thanks for the music."

Arthur Magazine RIP

From the LA Times, we read this story with great sadness - great, great like-minded magazine from across the pond run by our friend Jay.

"Arthur magazine, the bimonthly counterculture journal that brought an underground sensibility to its coverage of music, politics, arts and culture, has ceased publication, at least for now.

Editor and co-founder Jay Babcock said the free magazine, which distributed about 50,000 copies in 120 cities nationwide, was calling it quits after 25 issues in four-plus years.

But Arthur's other co-founder, East Coast-based Laris Kreslins, said, "I'm not ready to declare Arthur dead. I'd much rather say it's on indefinite hiatus." A split between Babcock, who ran the editorial operation out of his Atwater Village home, and Kreslins, whose Maryland-based company holds the trademark and handled the business side, became inevitable last year.

"I had been wanting to transition out of doing the magazine for quite some time," Kreslins said. "But negotiations to sell my equity in the magazine fell apart."

Babcock, who had assembled investors to acquire the magazine outright, said, "I looked out for everyone's interests but mine. I went on trust, and when that crumbles, everything else fails."

Asked whether he could resurrect Arthur, Babcock said: "No. . . . I'm broke, I have no income, and I don't even have the rights to my baby." Kreslins said he was preparing a public statement that he would issue Sunday.

In many ways, Arthur harked back to the underground publications of the 1960s and '70s. It featured interviews, essays, cartoons and lengthy pieces from writers such as Douglas Rushkoff, Alan Moore, Erik Davis and Kristine McKenna, as well as regular columns by Sonic Youth front man Thurston Moore and blues man T-Model Ford.

The magazine in the last two years also mounted three music festivals that earned notice in the Los Angeles Times, the New York Times and other publications.

Kreslins said the magazine "wasn't making money, but it wasn't bleeding money either, especially when you consider what an interesting, unique situation it was."

Babcock said he felt worst for the magazine's myriad contributors, many of whom worked for no pay. "I had a lot of people working on good faith," he said."

The Wicker Man

Just spend the best part of two hours watching the remake of one of Socialism's all time favourite films, "The Wicker Man". Wow, what a stinker. It's even possibly a work of genius, not sure yet, trying to let it all sink in. This Youtube cut up gives you the skinny on it - frantic over-acting and misogyny a go go. Great waste of a Friday night!

Socialism currently loving...

Fujiya + Miyagi "Ankle Injuries" (and the Tirk compilation - are we too late on this to appear cool?)
Manic Street Preachers "Indian Summer" (proper return to form)
about half of the Air album
Lovefoxxx from CSS (her record's not too bad either)
Jon Savage's new book "Teenage"
the Hunter S Thompson "Gonzo" book
Brtiney's nit prevention measures
"Trill" by Clipse
"My Super Sweet 16" (obviously)
the Richard Swift album
The Montague Arms
The Stalkers, gud band
"24", "Heroes", "The Wire" series 4, "Battlestar Galactica" & all those other great wastes of time on telly at the mo
Playstation Star Wars Lego Original Trilogy (it's a slow month)
Anna Nicole Smith, Robert Anton Wilson RIP
Princeton Architectural Press
the new Howies catalogue
"Ilf & Petrov's American Road Trip" (Cabinet book)
"Ugly Betty", esp the offices of Mode magazine - one day Socialism towers will be this way
Beyond The Wizard's Sleeve "Spring", Midlake remix & a load of other bits
Kleerup feat Robyn "With Every Heartbeat" (pure Balearia...)
Britney's hairdresser
the latest wave of spam emails we keep getting
Barrafina, Frith Street
Arcade Fire "Black Mirror" (wish the rest of the album sounded like this...)
The Shins "Sea Legs" (wuss rock? I'm in)
The La's BBC sessions
Soulsavers & Mark Lanegan album
Turbonegro "The Age Of Pamparius" (again)
Le Tigre mix of The Gossip single
the trailer for the Fantastic Four movie, against the odds
"Against All Odds" by Phil Collins (obviously)
bottles of Cwrw Haf from Beers Of Europe website.

Also, we're currently worrying that the Van Halen tour might not make it off the starting blocks. If we all pray hard enough, maybe it'll come to pass...

February 21st 1971

On this day in history... (also, the very day of my birth, Socialism completists... hi Mum, that means you!)

1971: They're having way too much fun out there, so the grown-ups at the United Nations step in and sign the Convention on Psychotropic Substances, an international treaty aimed at reining in the use of hallucinogenic drugs like LSD by tightening laws on their manufacture and distribution.

Although people have been doing drugs for centuries, usage mushroomed, so to speak, during the freewheeling 1960s. Governments were alarmed but slow to react. LSD, for example, was not prohibited federally in the United States until 1967.

The convention, worded in such a way to include almost any conceivable hallucinogen, was an attempt to override existing international drug treaties that, by and large, had proven too weak to enforce.

But there were political considerations that conspired to complicate matters: The pharmaceutical lobby representing powerful drug companies in developed nations opposed laws strictly proscribing the manufacture of synthetic drugs because, well, guess who manufactured them?

In the end, the regulations that emerged came down hardest on the growers of cannabis, opium and coca, plants that are used to produce narcotics naturally. Not surprisingly, most of this trade came largely from the third world, where their farming often represented a significant percentage of a nation's income.

From Today's Independent

James Brown has written a profile about the rag... we owe him one, it's really really brilliant... click here if you fancy reading...

Grindhouse

We here at Socialism Heights are frothing at the mouth about Tarantino and Rodriguez's "Grindhouse" movie... great to see they got a load of nutcases to do their own exploitation movie tribute trailer. None was better than this offering, which goes totally Brass Eye crackers...

Hurry Up Harry...

How weird is life for the Towers Of London in 2007? First off, your singer Donny Tourette is the only thing worth watching in the opening Big Brother show, an unruly combination of John Lydon circa “I’m A Celebrity”, Sid Snot and something out of the Beano. Less than 48 hours later, he’s bolted over the wall to avoid having to hang out with “that moron” Jade Goody in what now looks like a prediction Nostradamus would be proud of. Upon his exit, he and the band become omnipresent in high society watering holes all over the capitol, staggering around with It Girls and minor league celebrities and scrapping with bouncers, in turn making four or five visits to the gossip columns a day. Apart from one badly reviewed gig, the last thing anyone seemed to know about the Towers was whether they were any good or not.

Well, it seems that at least one person was keenly listening to their debut album, “Blood, Sweat & Towers”. Henry Charles Albert David Mountbatten-Windsor, aka Prince Harry, has declared his love for the Towers of London. There is little surprise there – after all, the kid was wearing a Sid Vicious style Swastika armband when the Towers were still knocking around as The Tourettes. This week, Harry, the 3rd in line to the throne, is reported to have ordered his henchmen to invite the Towers to” exclusive London nightspot” Mahiki (speciality – a £100 cocktail served in a diver’s helmet) last week so he could meet them. According to The Daily Star (obviously the font of all knowledge), Towers guitarist The Rev said, "We were just told to be there. Then we were introduced to Harry and he told me how much he likes us. He thinks we're top. He spent the evening calling himself the Prince of Punk."

And it’s at this point that the plot thins. First off, it’s reported that Donny is now trying to hit on Harry’s cousin, Princes Beatrice, 5th in line to the throne. Next up, it’s reported that Harry is shipping off to patrol the Iraq border as part of the Blues and Royals regiment of the Household Cavalry.

So, putting the absolute insanity of it all aside, what are the prospects here, what’s our money on first? Donny is reported to be keen to woo Beatrice, something he thinks he can do if he befriends Harry. Harry is going to fight for His Mum and Country overseas. So what the chances of A) Towers Of London being the first Western rock band to play in war torn Iraq at Harry’s behest, entertaining the troops like some kind of modern day Bob Hope revue (Manic Street Preachers in Cuba was one thing, this is potentially seismic in comparison!) or B) Donny Tourette potentially becoming 5th in line to the Throne? The Towers song “(I Could Be) King” suddenly takes on horrifying new precedence. The idea of these men, potentially the future of the monarchy (allow me to dream here), could be sat in Basra knocking back mind boggling Tiki cocktails, gobbing on the floor and swearing like troopers, is so far beyond comprehension, that just for a minute, the idea of creating a British Republic gets less and less enticing – I for one would rather see how all this pans out before getting too excitable about any kind of significant constitutional reform. Lord willing (well, his dad and his brother both somehow stepping out of the way to allow this flight of fantasy to happen), we may yet see King Harry with head consort Donny Tourette at his side, pissed up on rum, strutting round in Phil The Greek’s evening wear, flicking fags off the balcony whilst blasting “Neat Neat Neat” and Sham 69’s greatest hits out of the Palace windows, “We’re goin’ down the pub” the new national anthem.

Guilty Confession No. 1

I have started walking a different way home from work, often intentionally adding up to ten minutes to my journey. It’s the middle of winter and still I walk right round the block when I can clearly see the bus stop just 200 yards away at the top of the road. It’s nothing to do with exercise, or with wanting to take a more scenic route. It’s because of a tramp that has made my immediate environs his ‘patch’.

Before I go on, I have to say, this is not a rant against people who have fallen through the cracks and ended up begging for cash, far from it. I am a sympathetic person; I try to help wherever I can. I give money to people at the cash point. I buy the Big Issue. I bought a Christmas pudding where all the proceeds went to the charity Shelter. Yes, I do my bit. That said, this guy has become a real fucking pain in the arse.

It was sometime around Christmas that the street I have worked on for 13 years became his. For years I’d just popped money his way if I had it, given him the change from my morning coffee or my after work pint, a nod, a ‘hello’ and then gone about my business while he did his (more tramping). Then a work colleague introduced me to him by name. Like some kind of tramp pimp, the colleague foisted the guy onto me and with that, it was all over, I was at his mercy. From then on, the road I worked on became unpredictable, like some horror film where you never know what’s around the corner, lurking, waiting. Ready to pounce like Papa Lazarou. This was his road now, Dave. This was tramp country.

He gets into town at weird times. I know this because sometimes I manage to avoid him in the mornings. Lunchtime is when his beat really starts. His route seemed at first to be random (pub here, sandwich shop there), yet after a while, it looked more and more like he had some kind of psychic link to where I was going to be next. Time after time, he was there, stood outside the office, always with the same feigned look of surprise. Generosity is one thing; here I was shelling out sometimes twice a day, getting hit up every time I went to or from the office. The payout was nearly twenty quid a week some weeks. His timing was always inappropriate – walking down the road on the phone, he’d block my way and try to get me to hang up. I fell for it time and time again. Friends would get short shrift as the call went dead and he started talking. Then there was the time it took. The stories became more elaborate, but never seemed to go anywhere. He’d walk in from his flat (yes, he had a flat). He’d do his rounds (pub, sandwich shop, repeat to fade). There was never an Orwellian insight into the street life; it was often just babble about getting beaten up by other tramps, stabbed sometimes. He looked alright to me. This usually ended with a hard done by look from his heavily tattooed face (did I mention that bit? He looks a lot like Keith Allen in ‘The Yob’ after the final transformation, only a shrunken, Gollum like version). That look usually upped my shell out by a couple more quid.

Around Christmas, with my wallet sapped, my patience snapped. His enquiries became more outlandish. “Oi mate, have you got 3 quid so I can get a sandwich from Pret?” was the final straw. I grimly handed over his Christmas bonus and made my plans. This smiling bully would ruin my day no more. I’d change my route to and from work, even if it meant walking through rain or snow or howling rush hour traffic - that way I could avoid my nemesis. And so it’s gone on since then, a steely determination to avoid him, to get my life (and my disposable income) back.

Now, I do feel terrible for having written this, but it feels vaguely cathartic to have let off steam about it. It’s been cheaper than therapy and certainly cheaper than paying him. Maybe there will come a day where I feel I can talk to him about the way I feel, where I can ask him to back off if say, I’m on the phone or with my girlfriend deep in conversation (two of his favourite jump out times, when I’m at my most unaware). That said, he sometimes still gets me, albeit less often. Often, if there’s a meeting in the local pub, he seems to know I’m there. He’ll lurk outside, a forlorn look, but inside he’s licking his lips thinking of the sweet, sweet, foaming nut brown ale I’m drinking. He’ll get his own back. I’ll end up paying for that pint in more ways than one.

Cannot Wait For Monocle...

“Almost everything you see, read, wear and do has been influenced by Tyler Brule” ran the quote in Guardian on Monday. As I sit here in my Brule inspired outfit of ill fitting jeans and ill advised cardigan, I’m becoming more and more obsessed with the return of former Wallpaper* man to the world of publishing. The announcement of a new venture from Brule (see how much funnier the name gets the more you repeat it?) has seen the kind of frenzy one would expect to herald the Second Coming. There must be a press kit of telephone book proportions just from the pieces that have run in the past few days alone. The magazine that will invariably change our lives is called Monocle. It launches tomorrow. I know this because I couldn’t avoid the interviews, I feverishly read them all with a slack jawed disbelief that so many column inches were being devoted to such bunkum. Also I know this because the website for the magazine (of course I’ve logged on!) has a clock counting down the weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds until Monocle hits the streets of Planet Earth (yes, it’s a global release – W.H. Smiths in Newport train station just isn’t glamorous enough these days). Now, as far as I know, though I might be wrong, Brule has yet to find the cure for cancer. What he has done, by the sound of it, is launch a straight-faced version of Sugarape, the magazine at the heart of Channel 4’s ‘Nathan Barley’. Features include a “deconstruction of the outfits worn by world leaders, (Iran's President Ahmadinejad is the first subject)” (as mentioned in The Observer) – not really that far removed in the insanity stakes from the Sugarape feature on 15Peter20’s portraits of celebrities urinating. When Brule justifies the magazine by saying ‘sometimes people just want to see a nice picture of a helicopter’, I can’t help but think of the imaginary Sugarape editor, Jonathan Yeah, sizing up the preacher man outfit in his Hosegate offices, feet on the desk, self satisfied rictus grin across his slappable face. Basically, I have to see this magazine and fast. Which is fine, because, all the time I’ve been writing this, the clock has kept ticking down and we’re closer than ever to this momentous publishing event. Roll on tomorrow…

VAN HALEN IS BACK

VAN HALEN Officially Announce Summer Tour With David Lee Roth

Los Angeles, CA – In what is no doubt one of the most anticipated moments in rock and roll, VAN HALEN officially announces their 2007 North American tour.

The tour will mark the first time since 1984 that original VAN HALEN front man David Lee Roth will perform with Eddie and Alex Van Halen along with new bassist Wolfgang Van Halen for 40 shows this summer.

VAN HALEN fans can look forward to legendary high intensity performances, featuring a set list of the most iconic hits ever produced by America’s premiere rock band.

Eddie Van Halen states, “I am very excited to get back to the core of what made VAN HALEN”.

Possibly The Best Thing Ever

Something For The Weekend

January Blues

Spectacularly grumpy Doors review, we realise - Socialism staff currently trying out January off the booze. Celebrity Big Brother was helping until Donny Tourette legged it over the wall - he truly was the only decent thing in that house, replaced by Jade Goody, a walking Asbo with a personality bypass. Anyways, normal service to be resumed next week, hopefully slightly less grouchy too.

Please Close The Doors

For some years now I’ve had a theory that Oliver Stone must have absolutely fucking hated The Doors to have made that movie about them. Portraying the singer as a bloated, detestable, pompous, ego-maniac shag-about and the rest of the band as a bunch of hopeless, space cadet, hired hands was certainly a brave move and the movie could hardly be construed as a love letter to arguably the most overrated band of all time (my opinion, not actually sure what Stone really thinks of them). After having witnessed one of the most jaw-droppingly insane rock ‘n’ roll shows I have ever seen last Saturday (and believe me, I go out of my way to watch crap – I once stood in a field watching Suede in the pouring rain for an hour and a half just to laugh at them), I think we can add Ian Astbury to the list people willing to character assassinate The Doors above and beyond the call of duty. His new role, on stage filling a dead man’s shoes, playing Jim Morrison in The Doors in 2006 (aka Doors of the 21st Century/Riders On The Storm/whatever they’re allowed to be called lawsuits pending and that), sees him standing there channelling the Lizard King himself, singing all those songs you hoped were dead and buried somewhere in Père Lachaise, hopefully alongside the master tapes of Morrison reading anymore fucking poetry. The gig is doubly weird if only for the fact that 2006 already saw Astbury revive his own back catalogue a couple of months back, exhuming The Cult for one more warp speed trip down a gothic metal memory lane. (I must also say at this point, a strangled good attitude has to go out to The Doors for getting the ever erratic Wolf Child in to belt out the numbers rather than doing an INXS style hunt for a singer, basically the musical equivalent of the BBC’s recent “How Do You Solve A Problem Like Maria” – actually, scrap that – can you imagine a TV show where the Pop Idol format goes out to find provincial Jim Morrison wannabees???? Fuck me, what a show!!)

Anyway, on with the story. The newly refurbished Roundhouse in Camden is the venue for a two night stand, including a New Years Eve gig. My friend Simon offered me a ticket, thankfully for the one on the 30th (spending NYE with The Doors or thereabouts is a joke too far even for me). With little else to do and a grim fascination to see how deranged this car crash gig, I headed down to watch the freakshow. Mr Mojo Rising is 45 minutes late taking the stage and the natives are getting restless. I’m sure you can picture what a Doors audience looks like in 2006 – grizzled, humourless, slightly confused – pretty much like a Doors fan from the ’60s I’d imagine only a bit paunchier.

Rumbling onto the stage with the kind of sound you get from a bad diet, they wallop their way through the hits, punters going suitably mental. That keyboard sound (only ever really practised by Ray Manzerek and Clint Boon of the Inspiral Carpets – cheers, both of you) is augmented by the bubbling cauldron of insanity that is Astbury, original guitarist Robby Kriger, a drummer (not the one who keeps suing them) and a Jamacian bass player (I know his country of origin because he’s introduced by Manzerek in patois). One guy seated a few rows in front of us starts doing that ‘wasp stuck in the head’ dance that mentalists do and, after a few minutes, loses his glasses off his face then proceeds to scrabble round on the floor for them while Astbury is encouraging the audience to roar their approval (they do), saying it’s a “exorcising a primal urge.” Christ Almighty, he’s even got the between song banter right! A frankly demented version of “Alabama Song” ends up sounding like a geriatric German Oompha band fronted by a battle wounded horse. Manzerek’s intro to “Peace Frog” is like pure primary school politics lesson, total gobbledegook, something about George Bush and Tony Blair and how if politicians just left us alone “we could all live in peace and harmony man.” Songs last a minimum of 10 minutes a piece, drawn out with yelping, keyboard squelching and noodling guitar solos, each angrily trying to drown the other out. From the frequent trips I make to the now empty bar, it’s pretty obvious that people are taking this all very, very seriously indeed.

One hour in and Robby Kriger (could have been Freddie Krueger for all I cared at this point) takes to the stage alone to play a flamenco guitar interlude. Astbury thoughtfully joins him in dance only after a few minutes, a Wirral born whirling dervish, so lost in his own world it’s almost possible to forgive him for the gig you’re witnessing. Next up, “People Are Strange” is played, band placed on stools at the front of the stage (the musicians shorthand for sensitive, for intelligent – Astbury did “Edie” like this at the Cult gigs recently and ruined it). By this point, I can’t take anymore. In the knowledge that they have yet to play both “Light My Fire” & “The End”, each so overripe for extending to the point where your brain angrily gives up and flatlines, I make my excuses and make a run for the exit, breathing in the fumes of Camden High Street.

Headphones in, Towers Of London album on, normal service resumed. Within minutes of leaving the gig, I’m actually starting to doubt that the gig ever happened, starting to think that I maybe dreamt up the whole thing in some feverish cheese dream. Surely no one in their right mind would ever have thought to do something so crazed as that? And even if they did, surely no one would go??? Oh, shit… I did.

Socialism's Records Of The Year, 2006

It's that time of year, everyone is publishing endless lists of what their favourite this or that was this year... well, here at Socialism Towers we aren't any different - we got a load of people who've worked for the rag over the last issue or two to scribble down their favourite records of 2006 (and, in a few cases, their least favourite). So here then, are the Socialism Records Of The Year - good to see there is so much disagreement among our contributors. Also, good to see CSS featuring so many times - in no way did our bullying tactics influence opinion...

James Oldham
Singles:
1. Grinderman “No Pussy Blues” (well, it’s on myspace already)
2. The View “Wasted Little DJ’s”
3. These New Puritans “Pluvial” EP

Albums:
1. Yeah Yeah Yeah’s “Show Your Bones”
2. Cat Power “The Greatest”
3. Jenny Lewis “Rabbit Fur Coat”
4. Midlake “The Trails Of Van Occupather”

Nicky Wire
Best Singles:
Take That "Patience"
My Chemical Romance "The Black Parade"
Kasabian "Empire"

Albums:
Various Artists “CD86”
Mogwai “Mr Beast”

And the worst…
Bob Dylan “Modern Times
The Raconteurs “Broken Toy Soldiers”
Arctic Monkeys “When I Am Cleaning Windows (ee by gum)”

Jon Savage
Singles:
The Raconteurs “Steady As She Goes”
Gnarls Barkley “Crazy”

Albums:
Kompakt “Total 7” compilation
Six Organs Of Admittance “Sun Awakens”
Trentemoller “The Last Resort”
Arctic Monkeys “Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not”
Brightblack Morning Light “Brightblack Morning Light”

albums:
1. Hot Chip "The Warning"
2. Midlake "The Trials Of Van Occupanther"
3. Joanna Newsom "Ys"
4. Sibylle Baier "Colour Green"
5. Studio"West Coast"

songs (in no order and most of them are not singles):
Dr Dog "Ain't It Strange"
Tilly And The Wall "Lost Girls"
Midlake "Van Occupanther"
Loney Dear "The City, The Airport"
Yo La Tengo "Mr Tough"
Sibylle Baier "Tonight"
Hot Chip "Look After Me"
Albert Hammond Jr "Scared"
CFTPA "Scattered Pearls"

Andy Capper
Albums:
1. Clipse “Hell Hath No Fury”
2. Fucked Up “Hidden World”
3. The La’s “Live At The BBC”

Marc Jones
Singles:
Gruff Rhys “Candylion”
Peter, Bjorn & John “Young Folks”
Primal Scream “Country Girl”
Muse “Supermassive Black Hole”
The Raconteurs “Steady As She Goes”

Albums:
Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan “Ballad Of The Broken Seas”
Nicky Wire “I Killed The Zeitgeist”
Kasabian “Empire”
Yeah Yeah Yeahs “Show Your Bones”

Ted Kessler
Singles:
Gnarls Barkley “Crazy”
Yeah Yeah Yeahs “Gold Lion”
Lupe Fiasco “Kick, Push”

Albums:
Burial “Burial”
TV On The Radio “Return To Cookie Mountain”
Ghostface “Fishscale (dead heat with Midlake “The Trials Of Van Occupanther”)

Robin Turner
Albums (no particular order)
CSS “CSS”
Richard James “The Seven Sleepers Den”
The Vines “Vision Valley” (most underrated album of the year!!!)
Nicky Wire “I Killed the Zeitgeist”
Juana Molina “Son”

Singles:
CSS “Alaha”
Robyn “Cobrastyle”
The Good, The Bad & The Queen “Herculean” (took the best part of 20 years but finally I like a record that Damon Albarn has made)
Spank Rock “Bump”
Delia Gonzalez “Relevee (Carl Craig mix)”
anything by The Meatboys

Andres Lokko
Albums:
1. Studio “West Coast”
2. Ghostface Killah “Fishscale”
3. Scritti Politti “White Bread Black Beer”
4. Jaheim “Ghetto Classics”
5. Josef K “Entomology”

Singles:
1. LCD Soundsystem “45:33”
2. CSS “Let’s Make Love And Listen To Death From Above”
3. Ne-Yo “So Sick”
4. Shakira & Wyclef “Hip’s Don’t Lie”

Paul Moody
Best records…
The Streets with Pete Doherty “Prangin’ Out” & Keane “Is It Any Wonder” (both proof positive that the drugs DO work)
Muse “Supermassive Black Hole”
Wolfmother “Earth’s Rotation Around The Sun”
CSS “Let’s Make Love And Listen To Death From Above”
Midlake “Roscoe”
The Good The Bad & The Queen “Herculean”
Towers Of London “Air Guitar”

…and the worst:
Gnarls Berkley “Crazy” (music for the closet Moby fan)
Amy Winebar “Rehab” (“I say No No No”)
Anything by Hot Chip (public school boys making dance music – nein danke!)

Biddy Maroney (www.fantazmagloria.com)
Albums
1. Okkervill River “Overboard and Down”
2. James Dean Bradfield “The Great Western”
3. Belles Will Ring “The Coldest Heart”
4. Youth Group “Casino Twilight Dogs”
5. Bloody Meridian “Kick Up The Dust”

Andy Kelly
Albums
1. Jarvis “Jarvis”
2. Billy Thorpe and the Aztecs - Live At Sunbury (Reissue) (Obviously)
3. The Vines - Vision Valley

Singles
1. Jarvis “Cunts Are Still Running The World” (Not really a single, but seriously, come on!)
2. You Am I “It Ain't Funny How We Don't Talk Any More”
3. Gob Bluth and Franklin “It Ain't Easy Being White”

Nick Dewey
Albums:
M Ward “Post-War”
Cat Power "The Greatest"
The Vines “Vision Valley”
CSS "CSS"

Singles:
Midlake "Roscoe"
El Perro Del Mar "God Knows (You've Gotta Give To Get)”
Muse {"Knights Of Cydonia"