FAC off

I read with bemusement bordering on amusement the Guardian endorsed FUC51 blog. http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2010/jun/05/ian-brown-peter-hook-51 that sites Manchesters musical past as an 'albatross around the city's neck'. The berks.

The first thing that sticks out like a sore thumb is the slagging off of member of New Order/The Stone Roses yet no bemoaning of Morrisseys playing of the MEN arena or Old Trafford. Funny that, could it be that old Moz is en vogue and Ian brown isn't?

Secondly, the kicking of Peter Hook. Now, i will admit i love the Factory story. I think its more romantic than Romeo and Juliet. And like most people i don't enjoy seeing it belittled and sold off. I see that on Ebay that you can get Tony Wilson t-shirts, Zippo's and , heaven preserve us, wrist watches. This, like Ian Curtis tours of Macclesfield, leaves me feeling uncomfortable. But Manchester's trouble is it cannot help but sell its myths. How people and can sit and watch 24 Hour Party People and Control and then moan that they draw people to the city is beyond me. And, us much as i hate it, there is money in the Factory/Hacienda name. And who is more deserving of a slice of that than Peter Hook? For gods sake, the worst that's happened is the city has gained another venue. Hardly something to sulk about is it? If you want to see a city crippled by its legacy look at Liverpool. They've based a tourist trade on it.

Thirdly, and this is what really pisses me off, is the whining about the Ian Brown gig. So fucking what? I don't fancy going to watch it either, so why not take advantage of the dozen or so gigs/nights/films etc that the city has to offer on the same night? Outside perhaps Glasgow, Manchester has the best venues, the best bands, the best records shops, the best crowds and the best attitude. It also has by far the most eclectic taste in Britain and the widest choice. Do me a favour and and spend a weekend in Crewe, or Shrewsbury, or Stoke, or Coventry or even a 'big' city like Bristol or Birmingham. You will, pretty soon, realise how spoiled for choice you are. Sitting and typing and moaning is not the Manchester way is it? If you don't like the gig, fine, put on your own. There's loads, fucking LOADS, of bands, venues and people to make it happen.

There was (maybe still is) a Northern Soul night on at the Thirsty Scholar on a Friday night, and every Friday night this bloke, a big fella, would go dressed exactly like Joe Strummer circa Combat Rock. He wouldn't do anything, he would just sit there with his missus and a pint of lager and just watch the people dancing. Now, im not going to judge him on what he does with his weekend, so why should i judge some middle aged man going Platt Fields hoping he does 'where Angels Play'?.

Honestly, Mancs. Don't know there born.

DOWNWARDS/SANDWELL DISTRICT BLOG>>>>>

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TomTom-Teenage Terraces forever

Most of you will have no idea who Tomtom is, but his passing has been felt deeply within the Teenage Fanclub family.

Tomtom was a poster on the TFC forum, who represented everything thats perfect about the music that we adore. A bright, funny man who would bend over backwards to turn you on to new music, often going WAY out of his way to do so. He was a guy who adored music, a gentleman and a true fan.

He was one of those guys, the sort you would see at every gig, a passionate man who loved nothing better than making you a CD to introduce you to a new artist, a new avenue, a new adventure.

We are quite spoiled, i think, in the world of indiepop in that we are lucky enough to rub shoulders with artists we admire. Its almost taken for granted that we can meet with/drink with/talk with the people who make our little world a better place, and its easy to forget the people who go out of their way to make that gig and to introduce us to certain bands.People like Tom are the lifeblood of our little corner of the music spectrum, and its crucial that people like him are not forgotten.

But, like i said, most of you will not know Tom, so i ask that you look at this thread, learn the lessons and strive to be a bit more like him. I wish our scene was full of people like Tom, but of course it isnt. But i think we should try to take a tiny piece of what he (and, essentially us) stood for into the future. God rest you ya eejit. You wont be forgotten
http://www.teenagefanclub.com/phpBB3/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=41635

TG: A Psychic Rally In Heaven

Rube Goldberg Machine? Ok, Go!

Wow. Great video.
The hammer to the TV playing their old video is a nice touch :)
Cheers for the headsup about this Ylva!

OK GO - THIS TOO WILL PASS

The Missing Chums- How Come?

Now then, to be absolutely chrystal clear and whiter than white honest, im not a huge fan of this song. Its very nice, very catchy and im sure the band will do very well, but its a bit Starsailor for my tastes, BUT the video that accompanies the song is something else.
Its a trimmed up short story by Krzystof Kieslowski, him of the 3 colour trinity, and its one of those things that finds you and walms the old ticker and inspires the mind. Wonderful.



http://brilldream.blogspot.com/

The needle and the damage done and done again

In 2002, a band from North London called The Libertines released their debut album, Up the Bracket. The LP was appreciatively received by young music fans, who no longer had to put the with the out dated, luddite lager-rock of Oasis and by critics, who finally had something interesting to write about after desperately clinging to The Strokes for inspiration, a band for all their twangy riffs and ultra studied sub-CBGB cool, still came across with the collective charisma of Bill and Ted in a collerless leather jacket.

Eight years later, Robyn Whitehead, a promising film maker and photographer was found dead amongst drug paraphernalia in a flat owned by Pete Wolfe, co writer of number one hit 'For Lovers' , in Hackney, East London. The cause of death is a suspected drug overdose. She was 27 years old.

The story between the two events you probably know. A sordid tale of drugs and super models, of men being thrown to their death off balconies. A book of broken dreams, broken bones, break ups, and break ins. We followed the story from hoping he would turn to gigs, to hoping he would write good songs again to hoping people would stop dying. It should have been so different.

Initially, The Libertines, and in particular Pete Doherty, caused something of a renaissance amongst British youth. For all the critics of Doherty's music (and there are plenty, Ive seen many a level headed music fan turn apoplectic with rage when the sobriquet 'genius' has been used to describe him and his songs), for all the people fed up to the high teeth of the 'Potty Pete' stories, what is undeniable is the effect he had over his admirers. He made music romantic again.
He inspired people. I have met people who have started bands, set up record labels, write poetry, put on nights, promoted live music, because of the ethic of The Libertines. Ive met people who have became writers, musicians, fashion designers, artists, reviewers, blogers, travellers, thinkers, because the saw a twinkle in Pete Dohertys eyes and thought 'i can DO something. I can be different'. Hearts are won, the arrow ascends.

Then, of course, with broken hearts, the arrow falls. The pied piper effect reveals its down side. When the piper himself sinks into a seedy world of drug dens and addiction, there are people who will follow him into his rank lifestyle.

Manchester has a reputation for being a drug city. Mancs will trip over themselves to tell you how many pills they have popped, they will gaily drag you into a toilet cubicle for a cheeky line, they will stink out the top decks of their buses with the acrid fug of skunk smoke. But with heroin and crack cocaine comes a sense of shame. They are drugs that are frowned upon, because they are killers, and they know it. In London, in a certain scene, smack and crack share a sense of almost idle bohemia. People nod out in dens thinking they are the reincarnation of absinthe swigging french poets in the 1800's. This of course, is bollocks.

You can wave the Bill Hicks argument that all great music is created by people on drugs. Or that Keith Richards made 'Exile on Main Street' as a smack head. But like Neil Young, who slowly watched his band die one by one through overdoses, i would argue that addiction kills not the heroes, like Keef, Nick Cave or Shaun Ryder, but the hangers on, the people who get sucked into the scene. All three will tell you that, when it comes to heroin and crack, you either clean up or die.

There's lots of thing i find disgusting about the tragic death of Robyn Whitehead, a bright funny young woman who posted on the same message boards as me, and attended the same gigs i went to. I'm disgusted by the tragic waste of a young life. I'm disgusted that Doherty, a man who is happy to lead people into his fucking horrible crack den world, can merrily skip away when people are killed through it. I'm disgusted that a man who obviously has no intention of getting clean can be found in a UK court with thirteen wraps of heroin and be released back into his little day dream world. I'm disgusted for myself, for falling for his spell, for defending him and his 'artistic nature' in the face of common sense, and the fact it took a young girls death to finally, finally wake me up to that fact. I'm disgusted that the poor girls death has been dragged into the perverse world of tabloid journalism. I'm most disgusted that her death wont be the last. Something has to change.



originally posted by shaun tomkiss on brilldream