Sunday, 30 November 2008

Jacques and Queens.

renault Pictures, Images and Photos

The great thing about writing a bog is, well, to put it simply you can write whatever old shite you want to! Whether it's lengthy musings about sprouts being the reincarnated souls of the recently dead or what the world record is for spot welding geese to the side of a moving vehicle, it makes no difference, unless however you actually want someone to read it that is. I'll spare you the sprouts and geese for now but my current band wagon/cause celebre is one Mr Jacques Renault.

He first came to my attention on a DFA mixtape 3 or 4 years ago and has since quietly been edging into my consciousness. Now I don’t know too much about Mr Renault apart from he may well be French but has lived in New York since 2002 now and he’s been cranking out the odd stunna of a track every now and then. He’s also a bit handy with the old ‘re-edits’ which have been so ‘en-vogue’ over the last couple of years, and is responsible for one of my tracks of the year up till now with his fantastic edit of Giorgio Moroder’s ‘I Wanna Rock You’.
Apart from all his afore mentioned studio duties, he has also been spinning a splendid blend of classic cosmic disco and neo-italo (aka ‘the good stuff’) ever since he landed in NYC. He has held residencies everywhere from the super sleazy Happy Endings to the super swanky Tribeca Grand. He currently throws '205 Tuesdays' with his partner and DFA-posse-member Justin Miller, a weekly party that has hosted many of NYC’s finest.
He is also one half of ‘Runaway’ on DFA and also puts stuff out on ‘Italians Do It Better’ and notably Cosmo Vitelli's ‘I’m A Cliche’ imprint. He’s quickly making a big impression over here too with appearances in London recently alongside some of New York’s clubbing heavyweights like James Murphy, Moby, Lovefingers, Tim Sweeney and Mike Simonetti as well as getting coveted spots on the Glimmers' Eskimo mix and Lindstrom and Prins Thomas' Essential Mix. His latest release ‘She Did it For the Money” is still available now on the afore mentioned ‘I’m A Cliche’ label and is WELL recommended.
As I’m sure a few people will already be more than aware, I’m WELL lazy and I couldn't find a link to where you can buy it from but you can stream it on the ‘Runaway’ Myspace ( and grab a few free mixes while you’re there. You can also grab a brilliant, and I mean that, mix from one of his 205 Tuesday sets by simply clicking on the handy link I've gone to the trouble of creating just below. The mixing can be a bit shaky at times but the records are all proper dance-your-ass-off-go-mental material, guaranteed! There’s also links for a couple of Jacques, ahem, tracks for you there too as well as a particularly handy Mock N' Toof remix that never got picked up for release.
Who say’s we don’t look after you eh?

Justin Miller & Jacques Renault Live@205 Club, Downtown New York.

Jacques Renault * Magic Games.

Jacques Renault & Marcos Cabral * Not Afraid To Beg.

Hot Chip * Move On. (Mock N' Toof Remix)

Big love X. Fape.

Saturday, 29 November 2008


nwa Pictures, Images and Photos
On a bit of a Hip Hop vibe today solely due to the fact that when I was sitting at my desk doing some work this morning the three CD's within reaching distance were Abraxas by Santana, Super Ape by Lee 'Scratch' Perry and Straight Outta Compton by NWA.
Now seeing as I tend not to have smoked a quater ounce of weed before lunch time, Santana and Perry were pretty much out the window and 'Cube and Eazy 'Mutha-Fuckin' E were firmly on the menu. Listening to this put me in mind of some decent Hip Hop blogs so I thought I would throw this your way.
Anybody with a passing interest in Hip Hop and Rap could do a lot worse than check out website 'The Rub' run by DJ Ayres, DJ Eleven & Cosmo Baker who if my memory serves are all outta Philly and Brooklyn, but more importantly, are DeeJays and crate diggers of the highest order. All 3 of them will be familiar to anyone who's dipped their toes in the Hip Hop waters since the late 90's. More recently they've become bit palyers in the Baltimore scene appearing on Diplo's Hollertronix mixtapes and at his Mad Decent nights playing regularly alongside the likes of XXXChange from Spank Rock, A-Track and Blaqstarr. You may also know them from their "It's The Mutha Fuckin' Rub" Mixtapes.
Anyway, the site is pretty basic stuff with biogs, store, news and updates etc, but go straight past all that and head straight for 'The Rub Is On The Radio' section where you'll find mixtape's covering each year from 1980 - present. The selections from 88' - 95' get a CRAZY special mention from me personally with each mix being pretty much comprehensive covering the big tunes from that year as well as featuring the important breakthrough artists emerging at the time. If you've got a few hours to spare and a bit of room on your hard drive I MORE than recommend you get across and have a pick through the old tunes. I've been downloading one year every few weeks for a year or so now.
There's also an area for DJ's where they can submit their own unofficial mixes and edits and download others. Expect to find some really rather good mixes of tracks from the likes of busta, Eric B, Mobb Deep, Snoop, Biggie, Jay-Z, A-Track, Diplo etc.

Check eet,

And as a likkle bonus here's something double fresh for the clubs,,,,,

DJ Zinc Feat MC No.Lay * Killa Sound.

And a little oddity,,

Diplo, Leftside & Esco Vs The Yeah Yeah Yeahs * Belly

Big love, Fape. X.

Friday, 28 November 2008

Doing it for the Kids...

Just a little something something me and the boy Hell are doing on Sundays.


Kind of taking a leaf (or ripping a whole chapter) out of Optimo Espacio's book.


I did the design in 2 colours for no other reason than that I'm a cheapskate.

The ever enigmatic Dan Paris...


Dan Paris AkA Stevie Anderson is the guy who's done our artwork since way back in the Blackmagik days.

He is frustratingly talented with a bizzare sense ofhumour, which often comes through in his work.

We've long since given up offering him briefs for our artwork, as he completely ignores them.

He's set up his own blog, showcasing his work, which we urge you to look at.

Here's a selection of some of our favourite pieces he's done for us, and some chowns from the artists featured...



Buraka Som Sistema - Ina De Ghetto (Diplo Rmx)


Malente & Dex - Hyperactive (Bobmo Remix)


Hercules and The Love Affair - You Belong (Riton Rerub)

Thursday, 27 November 2008


Flying in the cerberus like faces of Global Recession, Good taste, and medical science, we present to you...


BOY 8 BIT (Mad Decent, Bodyclap)

THE BROKEN HOOKERS (ArePeopleReal, Polaroid)

Plus Residents
Geoff Leopard & Fape Sta


Boy 8 Bit…
… Is one of the undoubted stars of 2008.
Whether it be his remixing work for artists such as Midfield General (Disco Sirens), Burial, X-Press2, Mujava etc, or his original productions such as FogBank, The Suspense iis Killing me and The Crow (with the ubiquitous Crookers), or perhaps more importantly as a DJ with both his own night BodyClap, held monthly at Londons T-Bar and his appearances for Fabric, The Annie Mac Tour, The Parklife Festival, The Mad Decent Tour etc etc etc.
As a producer, The Boys style has grown alongside contemporarys Switch, Sinden and Herve and has paved the way for more recent BassLine and breaks led artists such as Fake Blood
As a DJ the Boys style is wholly unique, featuring plenty of hiis own production style, as well as Crate-Digging Party Bombs alongside “serious” Techno from the likes of Stephan Bodzin and Thomas Schumacker..

The Broken Hookers…
Are Darren and Jay, a duo who have been steadily making a big name for themselves.
This year has seen them play Radio 1’s Big Weekend, Turnmills, Get Loaded In The Park, The Skins Series II Tour, Adventures In The Beetroot Field, Dirty Disco, Gatecrasher, The Modular Tour, plus many more clubs the length and the breadth of the uk & Europe.
Their Radio show “ArePeopleReal” has featured guest mixes by such luminaries as The Crookers, Kissy Sellout, Duke Dumont, Brodinski, Pilooski and many many others
This Month sees them play for the first time in their new regular role as TOURIST residents.

Plus Support from …
Geoff Leopard & FapeSta,

Half Truths, Rumours And Lies!

Reet, straight down to business today then, and we're kicking off in the best way possible with what can only be described as me stamping down hard on the breaks of my verbal discharge and a hefty clog down on the accelerator of moozik innit bredrins! So check,,,,,,

arthur russell b/W Pictures, Images and Photos

In semi-cultural news, a DVD titled "Wild Combination: A Portrait of Arthur Russell" came out at the beginning of November following a rather splendid sounding launch at the ICA Bar in London (where NOBODY I know went) with a Russell inspired DJ set from Optimos ‘Twitch’ (Who I’m semi obsessed with at the moment.) Now I’m not a huge fan of Russell’s, mainly due to the fact that outside of the Dinosaur and Wax The Van stuff I was never aware of much more of his work or really of his relevance till about 18 months ago. So I ordered the DVD a few weeks back and just like every good music nerd, I’ve still not got round to watching it yet, so here’s a brief revue by Observer Music Monthly from the inlay card.
“The film is a touching portrait of the avant jazz/disco superstar who died from AIDS in 1992 and contains rare archival footage and commentary from Arthur's family and friends. A brilliantly insightful look into an extraordinary life. The most important man you’ve probably never heard of.”
So there you go. Hope that help’s. If that’s not enough for you then here’s a nice little DFA remix that came out to little or no acclaim a few years back that I really liked but everyone else seemed to hate for some reason, Go figure?

Arthur Russell * Springfield (DFA Remix)

Marianne Faithful Pictures, Images and Photos

You’d think that begining life as lead singer with a San Francisco electroclash band with the bilious handle ‘Luxxury’ that in your whole career were you responsible for nothing more interesting than couple of very average albums you’d have punched well above your weight right? Wrong! Erstwhile singer with ‘Luxxury’ the mysterious ‘Baron Von Luxxury’ continued onwards and upwards knocking together a really rather decent back catalogue of edits/remixes along the way over the last few years. And so it was that I was digging through a box of old CD’s earlier this week and came across a brace of his remixes that I like particularly and laid them to one side ‘spesh for some hot blog action innit. So after at least an hour and a half’s technical jiggery-pokery, ‘ere they is my loves, a tidy re-edit of the already discotastic ‘Broken English’ by Marianne Faithful (and yes gentlemen of a certain age I'm aware that early 90's rave-bots 'Sunscream' did a cover of it too!) and to keep things a wee bit current, there's a nice big fat bass driven remix of 'Meddle' by media darling du jour, Little Boots.
Smoke 'em while ya got 'em!!

Marianne Faithful * Broken English (Baron Von Luxx Slow Mix)

Little Boots * Meddle (Baron Von Luxx Technicolor Mix)

Much love,

Fape x.

Friday, 21 November 2008

Fuck The Fezzies!!

Appologise Pictures, Images and Photos

I feel somewhat of an apology is in need after my WELL self-indulgant opening rant on this here blog I decided that something a bit less preachy and militant would be entirely more fitting for my second post, after all nobby likes to be lectured at, especially when we're trying to get the first time readers 'into-bed' and then 'coming back for more' to use two terrible analogy's. So, just as every man wants to wrest a Woman from her clothing by the application of nothing more than his charm, but knows the intervention of booze, that old ally in matchmaking can't be making him any less attractive, I'm gonna butter you up with some lighthearted 'gor blimey' banter and slip you a half dozen pints to (auraly) losen you're inhibitions in the form of one of my favourite mixes of the last couple of years from one of Europe's finest deck botherers Mr Ivan Smagghe.


Fuck The Fezzies!!!!!
(,,,Or; 'Why ALL music festivals suck!!')

One aspect that the enclosures acts never took into consideration was the notion that a plot of land would be made available to a significantly sized crowd in order for of all things, recreation! Woodstock, Isle of Wight, countless folk and jazz get togethers and 'pinko' summer camps. Sadly, such gatherings nowadays mean one thing? MONEY and plenty of it. As the 20th century came to a close it was clear that there wasn't a mass of people concerned about poverty or world peace, but havin' a fuckin' good time consuming as much class A as they could.
As long as there was an 'event', there was no need to concern yourself with trivial matters like poverty and peace as they were for losers. Anyway, back to large open spaces. Now rippin' kids off for a night is one thing, but how's about a whole weekend? No surprise and no qualms with this one. In recent years, Woodstock has risen from the ashes. Gone were the idealistic long haired young men of yesteryear and in came the corporate inspired money grabbing bastards. Woodstock may be on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, unless you're after wood, nails, screws etc, then Woodstock in this case is on Westgate Road, but there are money grabbing bastards this side of the pond too. Before I continue on my old arsed cynical crusade, I'm aware of the old "I found a hole in the fence" lines, yeah, that still happens but the majority paid in. So no matter who tells you that bunkin' in is the reason for upping the tickets prices, fuck'em! They're lying.
The list of festival events in Britain now commend legendary status and it's a bit of an embarrassment in certain circles if you haven't sat in a load of mud for a weekend with nothing but the gear on your back and some skins. I know countless people who insist that the 'natural' hardships of the event are all worth it and that I couldn't 'have a go' as I depend too much on clean water and a soft bed. They always forget to mention my distaste for the E.coli bug and my ongoing allergy that breaks out when I get a pint of piss down my leg or use grass to wipe my arse, even in a porto-loo. Maybe if I had kept hold of the Adventure Kit that I got for Xmas, longer than Boxing Day, when I was a kid then I would have developed a taste for good sounds combined with canvas and cold tins of beans. Sadly, the make-shift camp comprising of bed sheets that was based in our back yard ending in an inferno put a stop to such outdoor pursuits. Unluckily for us, neither Charlton Heston or Lorne Green were based at our nearest fire station.
None the less, many shun the sound advice of festival organisers and turn up in obscure hats, with dogs on string, looking like jesters, rather than the sensible efforts from the YHA shops. Although, that 'cock smoker' front-man in Jamiroquai for years was to blame for this ongoing worrying trend. One mistake that many sneaker pimps (more next ish) attending a festival make first time around is wearing their gazelle. Many a pimp has sobbed after finding their shoes are no longer fit for hanging around the Quayside. All that mud you see! It's the welly for any return visit, although some sort of petrol operated vehicle from a B&Q Warehouse would be more practical. Outfits like 'Cream' and most of the other dance related fezzies have overcome the expense of tents, camping stoves and Savlon. They simply rip the kids off for the night, but here's the smart bit, then kick it all off the next afternoon! Let's not mention the price of bottled liquids for the large number of strangely de-hydrated revellers. However, we must point out the high overheads concerning that plane flying around with a 'Creamfields' banner all day. This particular outfit or event isn't the first venture into the great outdoors for these dance brands, oh no. Those nice people at the Newcastle city council allowed Digital to charge ridiculous high prices to dance at the centre for life lst year and down at the quayside on New Years Eve during the millennium hype. Yes, a private concern asking people to pay rip-off prices to party on public land. What a brave new century and probably more of the same to come.

Reading Festival camping Pictures, Images and Photos
The common ritual of 'tent raiding' is a custom that is not simply confined to Scout Camp. Many have had items of much personal sentiment taken in order for others to construct a special cigarette or to raise funds for 1 can of lager. I have heard of underwear, soap and other such luxuries going astray. Vigilante groups have been formed and many a poor soul wrongly accused of pilfer and dealt with all the zeal of a medieval witch trial. If you insist on attending such a gathering I recommend plenty of card, stored in dry environment, and a bank heist to pay for your scran an' ale. Or buy one of those US style motor homes, then you can simply drive the bus up to the front of the stage, just watch any potential "not past me mate" types clear your path a.s.a.p.
And how long before the likes of corporate footy festivals start? Weekends in tents, with Beck's and other national heroes joining in mud fights and other hearty shenanigans. Maybe Adidas will produce a pro-model welly version. Then you won't have to wear a Fireman Sam or Tweenies pair of wellies and the sneaker pimp will maintain that certain look. Forget Virgin or Carling, I reckon that the Army and Navy Stores are the real money behind these festivals. So, if you're still intent on going next year even after reading this, stick to Burghaus and Co, and leave your 'free the weed' t-shirts at home fuck face!!

From my archieves as promised: Ivan Smagghe, Rainer Weichhold & Marcus Moehta @ Rote Sonne club. 02/02/2008.

X. Fape.

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

If they move,,,, KILL 'EM!!

Ken Dodd Pictures, Images and Photos

In a bizarre reversal of form it seems that for our first post's, there has been somewhat of a role reversal in that I'm the one posting (semi) coherent musings on life and music and Geoff's posting stuff about fanny's and gear! Whoooo'd a thunk it eh? Not in a million, blah, blah, blah, etc.
Anyhoo, I'm actually cheating a tad as the next thousand or so words are edited from a piece I wrote (and subsequently had rejected!) a good few years ago for a national magazine that will remain nameless (Q, spit!) and remains as the cornerstone and intro for a book I've been trying to write for what seems like for-fucking-ever! So here it is, the best and most condescending way I can introduce my musings. Hope you enjoy.
(Don't worry, the next one will be FULL of titty's and gak so bear with us,,,)

Its the Victoria falls of yearning, its a rush of blood to the head as well as the loins, its many things to many people, most of which involve a surging in the chest as if something momentous and life changing is about to occur. Music prompts people to act on their impractical desires leave town, drive all night, hit the city, ask the girl out, lean forward to kiss the girl when shes out with you. Its about youth. It suggests you must pursue your dreams, which, in truth, is possibly the most suspect and stupid of all musics aspects, words born on the breeze and dying as quickly on the wind. If you pursue your dreams and dont find them, where does that leave you? Too tired and bruised to even want to dream? All regrets and melancholy smiles, blown on a wish?
The criminal alternative, however, is never to feel what your favourite records feel never to feel young, gifted, good looking and over confident. To be running from, not running to the place we really want to go Heaven, Paradise,,,, wherever!
It triggers searing, visceral memories, of how you used to pull a girl close to you, just so you could feel each breath shed take, the smell of her hair,,,,, and of how now sometimes those memories come back to haunt you. Is a dream a lie if it doesnt come true or is it something worse? Or are we all missing the point: That true love requires a leap of faith? To cross that line you never come back from that means your going along for the ride, the whole ride, all the way to the end of the line. Wherever that is? Music asks all these questions.
"Everything dies and thats a fact, but maybe something that dies can come back."
Its about these dreams and our disillusions and how we deal with that intense longing that all we Human Beings have for something and someone, and how sometimes you get to that point in life when you realise that you have not achieved that. The disappointment is there but youre still willing to go back and try to hang on to something intangible.
Its the way that sometimes you pray for one face that knows you, that looks at you the way it always did. Its about hovering on that point where sheer desperation and hope battle it out, a snap-shot picture of the chasm that exists between the reality that IS, and the reality you THINK is out there. Its the first rays of the new sunrise that shines a kind of harsh light on the real world and sticks a little needle into you that says that true love doesnt always last forever, money doesnt always solve things and the truth isnt always on the lips of those you expect. But still, knowing that never stops you hoping.
Our favourite music informs us of things at the most base of levels. She Bangs the Drums and Sugar spun Sister tell me that life is both momentous and sad, but not destructive of hope, and maybe that makes me a self-dramatising depressive, or maybe it makes me a happy idiot. Either way those songs know who I am, and that, in the end, is one of the consolations of art.
Music has the gift of making things near prefect at times, when I hear Minnie Ripperton sing Les Fleur, or Marvin Gaye tearing through Inner City Blues, or even Marvin and Tammi Tyrell singing Youre All I Need I swear I can hear my own heart crack.
But in the wrong hands music can cause much harm, no-body ever loses their virginity to the song theyd like to lose it to, in a perfect world, it would be Marvin Gaye or Al Green, in actual fact its more likely to be one of your parents M.O.R. rock albums that was already in the C.D. player. Just imagine theres probably some poor soul out there who popped his cherry to one of his Dads Simple Minds albums! Pity him good people.
For me it was a satisfying fumble to the sounds of some unlistenable noise that John Peel was playing when he used to do his evening show on radio 1 at 8 oclock on a midweek night, I remember it like it was yesterday! Now in a perfect world, obviously, it wouldnt have happened that way at all. But that was still one of the defining moments in my personal/musical history, but not the most important.
That honour lays firmly with Led Zeppelin, and the first time I heard Robert Plant unleash his primal howl to mark the beginning of Communication Breakdown. I was 13, and had just gotten in from school when my friends brother told us that he had just bought some new records and a game for his spectrum, so it was with joystick in hand I waited to play Way of the Exploding Fist while my friends brother cued up side 1 of Zeppelins debut album, he didnt however tell me that the next barrage of sound I heard would change my life. It thundered out of the speakers and filled the whole of the room, the walls shook as Plant let go his scream. By the end of it I felt both confused and Exhilarated, the only other time I had felt anywhere near this was my first wank!

In order to understand the cultural impact of the ideals which shaped my thinking behind this document, it is necessary to examine what came before all this, starting with;
Back in 1977 almost a quarter of a century after they first started printing the singles charts, the NME polled its writers to determine the 100 greatest singles of all time. When the votes, dimpled or otherwise, were finally cast, the candidates were duly sifted and the result solemnly declared. And the winner was Layla by Derek And The Dominoes. The list as a whole reflected the prejudices of its day serious music was white guitar orientated and technically proficient,,,, and preferably bearded! Punk, just then coming round the mountain to blow away this complacency like dandruff, couldnt arrive quickly enough. The NMEs list not only highlights the dangers inherent in such exercises of looking extremely silly, but also indicates the extraordinary changes wrought in music over the pat quarter of a century.
Punks arrival in 1976/1977 created a schism in rock history whose impact was bearly recognised even as it happened. Whether it was a roar of working class (or should that be art School) discontent, a situationist prank with suprisingly long-lasting implications, a back to basics after the excessive colonic investigations of prog rock, the cultural product of a profound sense of boredom, alienation and economic gloom in British Society, it transformed everything. Its simple proposition that anyone could do it meant that music was no longer about proficiency but about ideas. All channels were now open: post-modern irony (Devo), feminism (Blonde, The Slits), multiculturism (The Specials, The Clash) all came bustling through the door, throwing up unlikely permutations. 1977 however would be pivotal for another reason the electrification of dance music. Donna Summers I Feel Love introduced the sequencer to Disco, while Kraftworks electronic epic 12-inch Trans-Europe-Express would trigger off an electronic storm of chain reactions that would impact on everyone from Bowie to Bambaataa. Just about every great single of the past 25 years has been determined by these two revolutionary occurrences. Punk and Electronica have made a melting pot of rock culture, breeding supersonic hybrids, feeding off each other, synthesising, colliding, mutating. Which is where this document comes in, a much needed celebration of our own incendiary era.
For example, the prevalence of all the Best of.. compilations, and all time 100 charts, most of them repeat the same sub-text that we should cringe in shame and awe of the old masters. Hence, an anthology of Beatles singles ascends to No1, a reminder of the days of proper music. This point is irradiated into our psyches by ads, and film and T.V. soundtracks, all of which are crammed with classic retro pop and a general culture of retro-chic that reminds us that such class ceased to be issued in music after 68. In short, this generation is labouring under an unwarranted musical inferiority complex.
Not to cheapen or sully the Old Masters, or indeed side-step the argument put forward in some quarters that the analogue recording methods in the sixties enabled the singles of those times to develop in a way they no longer can in this digital era. Only a philistine would argue against the immortality and unreachable uniqueness, of great sixties music. But since 1976, the emancipating opportunities of new technology, the increasingly rich heritage of past music to feast upon and fuck with, the continuing liberalisation of cultural attitudes, and the overall expansion of the universe of ideas and sounds has enabled post punk generations to produce work which frankly, would have done the old masters heads in. Curse the mono limitations of their era!
Trouble is modern music has been the victim of its own staggering eclecticism. The dreary retro-chic of the mid-nineties, was a subconscious response to the sheer mass and sampladelic diversity of these sonic times. Too much the public seemed to say a few years back, we just want a common talking point, like in the old days when it was just The Beatles or The Stones and we all knew where we stood. Hence, the excesses of Britpop (Oasis, and O.C.S. especially!) culminating in the timid M.O.R. tunesmithery of the truly awful Stereo-fuckin-fonics and Travis, a return to an agreed-upon sensibleness, and, again reflecting a pinning for some Tory musical notion of the classical, reducing rock from a convulsive, revolutionary wave to a cottage craft.
If the musical landscape today seems devoid of quality, its not due to a dearth of new ideas but in a perverse and complex way to an overload of them which resulted in a relapse into conservatism. Which means practically the only left-field incursion into the charts youll get nowadays, from all the bubbling babble of contenders, is the plodding, emotional sobriety of someone like Coldplay. A band guided to pre-eminence by a conspiracy of marketers and Radio 1 playlisters who decided there should be at least one Indie style band broken this year. And theres your second problem; the triumph of the science of marketing, into which so much creative energy is channelled nowadays.
Such wasnt the case in the aftermath of Punk, then, a door opened briefly. Record companies, unsure of what the hell was flying around, adopted an oh well, I expect you know what youre doing attitude towards new acts, an attitude which has always proven fertile in the art versus commerce stakes. The single, previously scorned by the likes of Zeppelin and Floyd, came into its own. The Buzzcocks, Elvis Costello, XTC and The Pistols all stormed the ramparts. And there was a sense of a storm too you could see the fear in Noel Edmonds eyes as he introduced The Ramones or The Undertones whilst he affected a glazed look of forced jollity at these gatecrashers on Top Of The pops. This was to say nothing of those like Magazine, The Clash and The Gang Of Four who refused to go on TOTP because it ran counter to their principles, oh,,,, and they thought it was shit!
Then came the great wave of Avant-pop in the early Eighties, from ABC and The Associates, to the likes of Heaven 17 and Talking Heads, once and forever punks working in primary colours, but informed by a romantic excitement that pop music could be more than just wall paper, a collective revolution, that culminated in the glory that was Frankie Goes To Hollywood. A little more downbeat but equally vital was the 2-Tone surge, headed by The Specials and their three minute, monochrome studies in social realism.
Economic boom years tend to be indifferent pop years, and so it proved to be in the mid Eighties before the recession hit late Eighties-early-Nineties brought a crop of disaffected insurgents over the wall: The Happy Mondays, Primal Scream, The Stone Roses, all ripped to the tits on Punk, Rave and Acid, as well as the likes of Sued, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Sonic Youth, The Jesus And Mary Chain, The Manics, Dinosaur Jnr, Radiohead and The Pixies, each beneficiaries of the reinvention of Rock in the late Eighties, later came Britpop with its occasional moments of nation uniting magnificence such as Pulps Common People.
But this isnt merely about the crossover successes. Many of the Bands I've mentioned didnt even chart. But they moved the world at a deeper more seismic level nonetheless, in terms of their power and influence and, later, reputation. See Lee Perry, Wire, The Fall! Primal Screams Higher Than The Sun failed to breach the top 30 in 1991, but now who remembers the fluff that kept it at bay that week, Chesney fucking Hawkes, Sonia? So what? Even New Orders Blue Monday never made it to the coveted number one spot. Yet it was one of the best selling 12 singles of all time in the long term.
This is about records and bands that rocked the world not those that popped the world. This is sternly anti-kitsch, no Bee Gees, no ABBA, no Spice Girls, no Madonna even - and certainly none of that big boisterous blank, Robbie Williams. Drawn as we increasingly are to the gawking vortex of celebrity, you have to snap your fingers to remind yourself that for all their zillions, people like Williams are not actually happening, that their cultural, historic impact is, like that of the Osmonds, nil.
This is about what did happen and what soundtracked those pivotal events of peoples lives, the music that left these scorch marks is still smouldering, this is the music that is in danger of being written out by those potted TV retro-histories of pop, in which the Seventies mean Elton John and Queen, the Eighties Live Aid and the Nineties, more Elton John and Queen. Of course by saying this Im not installing myself as some kind of self-appointed monitor of cool,,,, no, rather regard this as the tip of an undoubted iceberg.
This is about the music of our very own, very recent times. And. It. Is. Gigantic.

Fape x.

Smashing the Pasty


For those of you who aren't from the northern hinterlands of Novo Castria, there's a phrase doing the rounds at the moment which goes along the lines of "I'd love to smash her pasty in", it's basically a loving tribute to the act of lovemaking and a celebration of the perfect form of female genitalia.

The fact that Christopher Biggins sees fit to comment on Ms Katona's MTV funded Designer Vagina is beyond sublime...

Also, to crowbar some form of musical content into this post...
You may have seen the heavily publicised video of Ms Katonas substance related meltdown on This morning, but have you seen this older video of "our Kerry" on GMTV?
Gurn? CHECK! Gibberish CHECK! Wild eyed Narcotic Mania? CHECK! White Marks round Nostrils? THANK GOD FOR THE MAKEUP DEPARTMENT...

Finding that video reminds me of when you're introduced to a current band or artist, only to find that their earlier output was as good, if not better.

Take for example loving Vangelis, and then discovering his earlier band... Aphrodites Child (with fellow beardy greek Demis Roussos!)



I was going to put up more info on Vangelis' earlier prog incarnation "Aphrodites Child" but bugger it, your big kids, use wikipedia!

Big thanks to Neil Scott for the pasty update.

That is all


Monday, 17 November 2008



Welcome to our blog.

We've created this online ego-stroke to both promote our regular Tourist parties (starting this Friday) and because we're in love with the look of our own typing.

We're gonna do our best to keep the page interesting, with a bit more than the usual up-front blogisphere content.

You can hopefully expect a regular mix of erm... mixes from both our featured Club guests and our residents, as well as any articles which we see fit to print, regardless of relevance.

As mentioned above, our first party takes place this Friday in Newcastle (UK) at The Cosmic Ballrom, featuring...


Our regular Residents include

Geoff Leopard (BlackMagik, Nice)
Broken Hookers (Are People Real, Polaroid)
Fape Sta (Slash & Burn)

To celebrate the our birth, he's a wealth of mixes provided by both our residents and our headliners...





ANTONY DALY, Nude Risk 0

FAPESTA, IndieBalearica

That should be enough to keep you going