That's Not His Name

I first encountered the name Billy Childish while clambering around inside Tracey Emin's 'Tent': Everyone I Have Ever Slept With 1963-1995, at Saatchi's Sensation exhibition back in 97.

I knew of his bands The Mighty Caesars and Thee Headcoats but I didn't make the connection; I thought it was a silly name, one perhaps Emin had invented.

How wrong I was, and it slowly dawned on me through serendipitous references and ubiquitous name dropping by those who are assumed hip, that Billy Childish was a real person (Steven Hamper in fact), and had every right to occupy one of the largest surface areas within Emin's tent.
She readily admits that Billy Childish was the greatest inspiration in her life.

There's ample amounts of Billy Childish recordings available out there, and I have nothing that I can really add to that without merely repeating what others have done.

But what I have got to share is a fascinating and compelling documentary and interview with Billy Childish produced by the BBC earlier this year.

The radio broadcast corresponded with a major exhibition of Childish's work at London's ICA gallery. Visual art, music and poetry featured in the exhibition (Childish refuses to settle into one medium or form; being a true artist in the Renaissance sense; being creative, and refusing to be categorised or confined) and some of the interview concentrates on this - dare one say it about Childish - 'mainstream' exhibition.
But in the main the programme allows Childish to pretty much free-associate.

Quizzed and prompted by John Wilson, son of Bob (yes, that Bob. You know: "Bob Wilson: Anchorman" Bob), Childish comes across as a most conducive and intelligent character.
It makes for a fascinating listen. Art, Emin, punk rock, poverty, subversion, fame and a whole feast of other subject matter is covered.

For instance, I totally and wholeheartedly agree with his attitude and opinion concerning the term 'Outsider Artist'; a label Childish despises; a term I have, like Childish, always considered derisory; a label created by an elitist art establishment for anyone who doesn't fit-in or follow their arbitrary and bullshit 'rules'.

So big up the BBC for giving Billy Childish the air time, and bless 'em, they even allowed him to introduce himself:

I am Billy Childish
Ex drunk and compulsive masturbator
Late night vomiter of good liquor
Kisser of purple lipped women
Writing poems celebrating the emptiness of my love.

So if you're interested in what Billy Childish has to say about music,

art,

poetry,
or life in general, this is well worth a listen.

Wild Billy Childish
Produced and broadcast by the BBC, Radio 4.
Broadcast 23/3/10.

Excellent rip from DVD captured digital broadcast @320kbs to single mp3 (30 minutes)
Get Childish here

Stand Up Now, Stand Up Now

A bit more culture coming atcha.
But this time Kul-Cha! with a capital K.

Attila the Stockbroker, a couple of years ago, accidentally performed a gig in my near vicinity.
He got the booking muddled up apparently.
He thought he was going to play in a city that just so happens to have the same name as the small village he ended up playing in.

There's a lot of that in Wales.
It's almost as if they [who?] had a finite amount of potential place names for Wales, and once used up, well, they just used them again.
I mean, shouldn't cause a problem...

Well it did, fortunately for me and about fifty others, and Attila stuck to his word and fulfilled the gig.
(His problem came down to distance.
The gig he thought he was going to perform is about half way from London to the gig he did perform; furthering his journey by approximately two hours.
Wales is very wide at its thickest.)

It was at that gig that I acquired this DVD.
A 2004 recording of Attila captured in Chicago whilst touring North America with politico minstrel David Rovics.

Nothing is lost by this being an audio rip - the set is awful: a reflecting window to the side of the stage, filmed by a static camera - and of course Attila is all about language anyway.

Excellent show this; Attila giving a great performance; a political ambassador who's actually worth listening to.

Of course the zeitgeist is Attila's muse, but six years hasn't changed or reshaped the world too much.
And any poet who's able to make Guy Fawkes and Aneurin Bevan relevant ('Guy Fawkes' Table') in a polemic against New Labour isn't going to become obsolete in half a decade now, are they?

"Aneurin Bevan, your party's dead
And the time for a new one is nigh.
Will the last person Left please turn out the lights
New Labour, just fuck off and die."

Boy, it raised a cheer when Attila performed 'Guy Fawkes' Table' down in that little Welsh village... O yes.

Attila the Stockbroker - Live at The Heartland Cafe (2004)

Intro (David Rovics)
Death of a Salesman
Baghdad Ska
Guy Fawkes' Table
Commandante Joe
My Poetic License
Asylum Seeking Daleks
Supermodel
Punk Night at The Duck's Nuts
North Korea Mourns Comrade Mickey Finn of T. Rex
Every Time I Eat Vegetables
The Bible According to Rupert Murdoch
Hey, Celebrity!
Old Teenagers
Blood For Oil/Oil Power
Libyan Students From Hell!

Audio rip from DVD @320kbs
Fuck Capitalism here

Knock For Knock

A reQuest.
Fulfilled.

Great dramatic interpretation of the six hundred year old Gawain poem, resuscitated by the Promethean skill of Simon Armitage, and realized by the BBC.

Armitage cleverly retains the alliterative style of the original anonymous Middle English text, updating the language without losing original meanings and nuance: "Born one blow without bottling out", for example.

The tale contains everything you could want from a story: partying, drinking, beheading games and ultra-violence, a quest, magic, drinking, romance, suspense and more drinking.

But at its heart is a tale of chivalry, courtliness, courage and honour; in fact, so many concepts we consider as being a bit shit in our self-abasing, self-promoting society.

Armitage's words are uttered by the most competent Sir Ian McKellan who narrates; Sam West who ventiloquizes Sir Gawain; David Fleeshman as The Green Knight and Deborah McAndrew as The Lady.

Sir Gawain and The Green Knight
Originally broadcast by the BBC on BBC Radio 4, 21/12/06.

Ripped from DVD captured broadcast @320kbs to single mp3 (45 mins)
Go greenesse here

Did YOU Ken John Peel?

I went to see publisher, now poet, Felix Dennis perform a poetry set in Cardiff last night.
And most enjoyable it was too, with a good time had by all (except for the drunken punk who looked like the original bass player from Queens of the Stone Age, and his equally drunken girlfriend, who were evicted


although they may well have had a good time - in their own little way).


Dennis made his name back in the sixties, as a co-editor of OZ Magazine.
He along with his co-conspirators were indicted under the Obscene Publications Act, and were tried at the Old Bailey Court in Central London - all three of the accused attended court in drag; this didn't go down too well, and they ended up being imprisoned.

They were acquitted on appeal, but in prison long enough to have had their hippy locks shawn - the state always has to have the last word, right!

During the trial, the accused found themselves being supported by many, including John and Yoko, who went on to record a song about the proceedings: 'Do the Oz'.



Marty Feldman, Caroline Coon, George Melly, Edward De Bono and John Peel all spoke up on behalf of the accused in court, as well as defending the right to freedom of expression and freedom of speech.

But the judge failed to find their arguments convincing, and nothing could remove the horror he had experienced from seeing a cartoon depiction of Rupert the Bear with an erection. He had to send them down.


Dennis has moved on somewhat since that time, and there is no way I am going to give his full autobiography here; as very full it is. But it is fascinating, and well worth checking out. So here's a link.

As for the poetry. Well, it's decent enough.

As a performer, he's very charismatic and very confident.

He did at times become a little too whimsical for me, but he mixed it up with some serious verse.

One poem about Eva Braun's suicide was particularly moving; juxtaposed with a projected montage of images of her frozen smiling corpse alongside other stills from the bunker.
Pretty deep stuff.

Especially when it follows a poem about his old border collie!

Undoubtedly his most entertaining verse were those poems that dealt with popular culture; whether it was harking back to the sixties or responding to the hear and now.

And he's done a bit of an Angela Carter, but rather than updating classic fairy tales as she did, he's chosen to breathe a bit of vitriolic breath into nursery rhymes.

The illustrations accompanying this post are taken from his book: Nursery Rhymes for Modern Times; and in a William Blake like fashion, by looking at the pictures you can get a pretty good idea as to his poetic voice and subject matter.

The illustrators are Bill Sanderson & Sebastian Kruger.

I thought I would share with you a poem of his about a man that I am sure is still close to many people's hearts, that being the British Broadcaster (he was more than a DJ) John Peel.


If you know nothing about John Peel: well, shame on you.
But in essence, he, pretty much alone, brought alternative and minority music to millions, and he did this, via the BBC from 1967 until his unexpected demise in 2004 (he was sixty-five years old).

During his life he reached out to many in need of finding out about new music; and his shows reached alternantive and underground music fans through all the decades he worked.
From hippys to glam fans, from reggae to punk, from new wave to no wave, from nose-bleed techno to 1930's jazz: John had it covered; and not only could he blow your mind with his strange juxtapositions; but he had a sixth-sense for knowing what was going to be the next big cross-over act (The Faces, T Rex, The Pistols, the Undertones, Nirvana, Cornershop, The White Stripes, the list could go on).

Anyway, here is Felix Dennis's homage to John Peel.
I have included the words here, but it is well worth downloading (it's less than 2 mb as a straight Mpeg4 - take you seconds!), as you hear Dennis introduce the poem and then it is sung by a rather dissonant young choir to a lone piano, to the tune of the traditional 'Do you Ken John Peel' about the eighteenth-century huntsmen.
(I realize I'm not really doing it justice in my description; but honestly, it is very good; and if you were a fan of John Peel (the broadcaster, not the huntsmen), then it is an interesting curio.)So, just something brief for now.
Grab it here