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| http://dickonedwards.co.uk/diary/index.php/archive/the-reluctant-contrarian/ http://dickonedwards.co.uk/diary/?p=1525 Early December: As I suspected, the BBC Short Story competition is won by my least favourite of the shortlisted five – the one about the terminally-ill son. It was beautifully written, I just think that if you’re going to write about terminal illness without adding anything new, the work needs to be as good as Alan Bennett’s ‘A Woman Of No Importance’, or Douglas Dunn’s ‘Elegies’ or Lee Hall’s ‘Spoonface Steinberg’ or James L Brooks’s ‘Terms Of Endearment’. Still, the runner-up was Sarah Maitland, which was my own second choice after Ms Alderman.
I take no pleasure in finding myself out of sync like this. I don’t care for ‘contrarian’ writers who go against the consensus for attention seeking reasons. ‘Look at me, I hate the thing everyone likes, and like the thing everyone hates.’ But neither do I enjoy finding myself in agreement with the fashions of the day – I’d feel I was doing something wrong somewhere.
Part of me likes the fact that I dislike The X Factor, for instance, because if I liked it, I would have to rebuild my character from scratch. So I’m grateful to Most People for ensuring that the one thing Most People like is utterly awful and vulgar and tasteless and crass and banal and artless and… just baffling. But I feel this instinctively, never deliberately. One person’s snobbery is another’s self-validation.
So when people on the internet organise that Rage Against The Machine single-buying campaign to thwart the X Factor winner, I find myself wanting both sides to lose, on top of just feeling very alone full stop. Rather as I am with football. I like the look of the X Factor winner – a very well-turned out young man called Joe, against the inelegant, tiresome RATM. But I have to admit the song Mr Joe was given was an unmemorable, dull, watery ballad. Whereas hearing that RATM song – with swearing intact – upsetting Nicky Campbell on Radio 5 the other morning was a rather fun radio moment. Anything for a more interesting world.
What I’d really like is to write songs for Joe myself. Or indeed, write for Will Young. Stranger things have happened. Then again, Will Young was on that short story judging panel…
***
Am staying in Crouch End over Christmas and New Year. Cat-sitting and flat-sitting , this time for Jennifer C and Chris H. Cat in question is Vyvian, who came over from San Francisco with Jennifer some years ago. He has one of those cat passports. J can’t easily lay her hands on it, so my illusions are intact; in my head it has a little cat photo – with unflattering cat haircut – and a series of pawprints.
Of the five North London cats I know, two of them are named after characters in 80s BBC TV comedies. Vyvian is named after one of The Young Ones, while Anna S’s cat Flashheart is from Blackadder.
***
Today, entirely randomly and because the train from Hornsey overground station terminates at Moorgate, I wander around the Barbican estate, marvelling at the juxtaposition of old and new architecture at every angle, particularly the ancient St Giles Church surrounded at every side by very 1980s terraces. It looks like it’s been teleported there by some cackling sci-fi villain.
In the Barbican centre someone recognises me and says hello – Francesca Beard. She’s performing a children’s show there. There’s a horrible second where I can’t remember her name – (’How dare you, brain’, goes the internal voice), followed by a slightly uneasy few minutes as I struggle to think of what best to say on such occasions. In about 2000 I was a fan of her performance poetry (the Fosca song ‘Millionaire Of Your Own Hair’ takes its title from one of her poems) and I saw her gigs fairly often. And then – what? She didn’t stop performing. I stopped going to (and trying my hand at) performance poetry gigs, in my dipping-but-never-committing way. But I did see her at Latitude this year, so her place in my mind’s filing system isn’t as dusty as it could have been.
It’s times like this where my near-autistic inability to connect names and faces in person, coupled with my lack of basic social skills (which words to choose, and in which order? there are so many!), leaves me riven with guilt for the rest of the day.
It’s like the film ‘Memento’. I just wish I could remember fewer cult fictional films about amnesia and more things that actually matter.
About an hour later – today still, Dec 23rd - I’m in the London Review Bookshop, and again someone behind me says, ‘Hello, Dickon.’ And as I turn to face the person – I’m such a bad actor, and so much of life is acting – I can’t help pulling the very honest but very offensive expression of panic through lack of recognition. It’s David Kitchen, who once worked for Orlando 1995-1997, setting up the band’s information service and website – this diary’s precursor – and whose flat in Kew I regularly visited and once stayed the night at. True, I’ve had no contact with him for the best part of ten years, but that’s no excuse. I lack something everyone else in the world has.
(And it’s only now that I realise that the flat I’m staying in is owned by one of David K’s London circle of friends circa 1996, Chris H. He edited the first Belle & Sebastian videos, while David worked for B&S in websitey ways during the same era. I wish I could have mentioned this connection to David today, rather than grasping for things to say and apologising for not remembering his name.)
What confuses me is that in my mind I know exactly who David K is and what he looks like. It’s when I’m presented with him in the flesh, unexpected, out of the blue, and after a ten year gap, that my mind can’t cope. If I was told that I’d be meeting David K in the LRB today, I’d have no problem recognising him. And yet, I still feel that it’s my fault, that I’m a terrible, selfish, self-centred person, and the encounter upsets me for the rest of the day. I only hope he doesn’t mind as much as I do.
Even when I can connect names and faces, a surprise chat with friends from the past can never be easy. ‘What are you up to?’ ‘Something not involving you.’
One fear of mine is that when I die, there’ll be a test.
I envy Doctor Who. At least he gets played by a different actor every time a chapter of his life passes. I have enough of a struggle learning the script for my current role, never mind roles gone by.
And again, the thought is, ‘Is it just me? Is this a medical condition, a syndrome? Is there a sick note for every occasion? Should I be allowed in the same universe as everyone else?’ | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2609 Oooh, but hungover. That's not good. Along with having to cancel my bank card and oyster card - bad luck thieves/person who found the cards where I dropped them/me when I find the cards somewhere in my house - I also had to record a podcast with Andrew "Oin Stoin" Collings. You can't hear it yet. It's a spare one that we're gonna put out in early January when I am away on holiday. | |
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Thanks, again, for reading. Here's wishing you the very merriest of holidays. We'll see you next year! | |
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| I'm sure Gordon Ramsey wouldn't really mind me and Chris writing a little sketch about him killing his own children's pets. He kills everything else and seems to think it's OK so where and what is the difference?.....
Ernie Slaughter –
Ernie- Hello, I’m Ernie Slaughtner and this is a programme for you, the parents. As you know, children are notorious for going through fucking fads, we accept this, RIGHT?! They play with toy cars, with barbies, with knives, but none of these are life endangering. Until one unfaithful day, you realise their hair swings below their elbows, and they're smoking dismantled Typoo tea-leaves through empty Tango bottles and then they say, "Mum I think I want to be a fucking vegetarian". Obviously, you're worried for them, they're in grave danger, within weeks they'll be malnourished and as thin as a Christmas card list of a paedophile. You don't need me to tell you that we need meat, RIGHT?!
To you, the parents I say, don't worry your M&S candy thongs! Indulge their fad, it won't last long. But for tonight I’m going to be indulging you in how to slaughter your little girl’s pet hamster in your very own Moben designed kitchen. It’s a fairly simple task but for this you’ll need: One rubber soled slipper or if not on hand your own shoe will do and a hamster.
Remember what I always say, the fatter the fucker the more succulent it’ll arrive on your plate, so I’ve been fattening this little squeaky rodent up with Pistachio nuts since last Wednesday. Simply get firm grasp of your own little Harvey the Hamster, perhaps clinching it enough to block any remote flickers of oxygen, then all you have to do..... *HAMSTER IS STRUGGLING*...... is just hold the fucking pest still on your very own Moben designed kitchen granite work surface, or B&Q will do, or in fact fuck it! The office desk will do! Just smash the little cunt with the slipper *BEGINS TO SMASH* *BEGINS TO SHOUT* It’s wise to gain a rapid speed ‘cause the quicker you smash it the quicker it dies and I’m not warmed to unlawful killings! I can’t watch Bambi without chucking the snot from my snout....
*HAMSTER IS DEAD* Yeah, look at that beauty! *HOLDS A BLOODY HAMSTER IN HIS HANDS* Now, what I do highly recommend you do is twist and drain the little twats body into a Sherry cup ‘cause it serves as a nice complementary tipple with two Prozac before bed, but quite simply, just grease up the frying pan with the puss from last week’s cancer bollocked chicken, just grease it all up, then stick Harvey the Hamster in for a fry. Serve with bistro salad and gherkins on triangle shaped Ikea plate. - Music:pulp - do you remember the first time?
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2608 Another exciting start to the day, when I found the postman had stuffed a packet through my letterbox (this is not a euphemism) containing two copies of "How Not To Grow Up". I was surprised to see this as the book is not out until May and I didn't think there would be advanced copies quite so soon. So it was exciting to have it in my hands. Like it was a proper book. That you could get in a shop. Though you can't. Not until May. | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2607 Four years ago, on Christmas Eve I was surfing the net (as we used to say in the olden days) and clicked on a link on Chortle to discover that Dominic Cavendish of the Daily Telegraph had decided that Someone Likes Yoghurt was the worst comedy experience of the year. It had been a surprise to see myself on the page and more of a surprise to realise that someone thought I was the shittest thing in comedy in the whole year. | |
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| 1) It's 11 p.m. What are you most likely to be doing?
a) Watching TV quietly
b) Asleep
c) Doing random acts of DIY
2) Laminate floors, yay or nay?
a) Nay, they are unsuitable for blocks of flats
b) Bring it on! (NB: I have to wear shoes to go to the toilet in the middle of the night).
3) It's 2 a.m. What are you most likely to be doing?
a) Out
b) Asleep
c) Having a blazing argument
4) It's the school holidays. What are you doing with your children?
a) Taking them on lots of stimulating day trips
b) Local things - free swimming, museums, local park
c) Nothing. They are fine running up and down all day screeching and then being over-excited at 10 p.m., refusing to go to bed and howling.
5) What's a suitable time for a 5 year old and a 7 year old to go to bed during the school holidays?
a) 8 p.m.
b) 9 p.m.
c) 1.30 a.m.
6) When's the best time to do your washing?
a) 2 a.m.
b) 3 a.m.
c) 5 a.m.
d) All of the above | |
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| 99.5% OF THE TIME I FEEL LIKE THIS.....  - Music:morrissey - relevation lp
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2606 What would the 7 year old me make of this? Here I was on stage, standing in front of more than 3000 people, reading out the stories he had written: The Man Who Could Fly, The Man Who Was Never Born, The Plant That Never Ghrow and of course The Four Men Have A Fight With The Men of Phise. Would he be excited, amazed, delighted or just embarrassed that the adult him would still be peddling this crap over three decades later. He might also be annoyed that I was essentially taking the piss out of him, but only lightly. | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2605 I was on early in tonight's Godless show as I had a wedding celebration to get to. I was going on second after the esteemed and revered God-like atheist Richard Dawkins. Only at a Robin Ince gig could something like this happen. Dawkins was my warm up man! It could be the title of my next show. Robin Ince introduced me from the off stage mic saying "That was Richard Dawkins the writer of "The Selfish Gene" and now the writer of "Talking Cock" Richard Herring." | |
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| Like most of the North, my neck of the woods has been beaten by snow flakes. Snow doesn't bother me but what DOES bother me is people scooping up the snow of their parents cars and chucking them over my garden wall. I'll get them back 'cause Alfie's gone to have his anal glands emptied and he always needs to dump afterwards, so how's about a nice hidden dog turd covered in snow? Eh? How'd you like that kids! Alfie's shit scooped into a snowball in your face!  That's the kind of bitter twat I am... The ultimate album to listen to when it's snowing is....  - Music:Suede - She's Not Dead
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| I got some new socks home only to find they are labelled with bossy suggestions as to which sock should go on which foot:  Well, fuck you, socks, I won't do what you tell me!  There. It seems Zack de la Rocha and Jimmy Cricket are basically the same. | |
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| I have given in and joined twitter. rachel_london. I swore I wasn't going to get an account and, as with Livejournal (hung on for 4 years with an html diary), Facebook (capitulated when my 55 year old friend joined), Spotify* ( funsize lions are going to have a song 'released' on it), I eventually caved in (mostly because I wanted to read Dr Johnson's updates). I am not an early adopter (I'm afraid of ending up with DAT and WAP and minidiscs) and I always want technology to be a means to an end, not an end in itself (my phone texts and phones; no MP3s, no bluetooth, no phone, no GPS, no internet. The only app is a pretend ten pin bowling game. It's the ZX81 of mobile phones). We have recently upgraded the broadband which has made no difference to the internet, but means I can d0wnl0@d all the films I failed to see this year (Slumdog Millionaire, Synecdoche, New York, Let The Right One in, Broken Embraces, Sunshine Cleaning) as well as the films FIlm 4 should show (Munich, The Counterfeiters, Welcome to Sarajevo) if they weren't so busy with Love, Actually every day (Ghostbusters is a far more Christmassy film). It made me wonder if novelists who write technoloigcal dystopias tend to be over 40. It certainly seems to me that technology is faster and faster as I get older and older. I first heard of the internet in '94 when a friend wrote one of those pen marks on paper things about the indiepop mailing list, but I didn't send my first email until four years later which really was like Alexander G Bell making the first phone call (I only knew 3 people with email addresses, one of them being the on-trend and now longhand letter-writing retro dickon_edwards). It strikes me that people under 20 will not remember life pre-internet and how, despite the fact that fashionable parents can have their own piercings, dabble in drugs and accompany their teenagers to festivals, technology will always ensure that there is a generation gap. To the under 20s, communication is carried out in a totally different way to the over 40s, even if this latter group use the internet to buy their train tickets and to read breaking headlines and maybe even watch the odd kitten video. People over 40 says to me: Why do I need to twitter/facebook/blog? I can just speak to my friend. Whereas the 20-somethings make fan videos of Come Dine with Me. I'm not sure where that leaves the inbetweener 30-somethings. The ones who can spell but understand what people are signifying when they write: "teh interwebz". The ones who spent all that time at school colouring in graphs when Excel does it for you without even thinking about it. Who take their laptops on holiday but still send postcards. Who download all of their music but still owne 7" singles. Definitely not getting Google Wave though. No way. * It feels slightly odd to be listening to Judy Garland on spotify. - Music:Hercules and Love Affair - hercules' theme
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| Xmas in Stoke Newington:  Not quite reindeer:  Yule Log:  Angels in the Snow:  | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2604 I am really relaxing down to Christmas and it's cool to now have nothing but the Robin Ince gigs to do now. Things have been a little busy. I am pretty much done with work until 16th January, when the Hitler Moustache machine will jolt back into action. And that's going to be the start of a somewhat busy three to six months, so I should make the most of this down time. So I slept in until almost midday and then watched a film and the first episode of the Wire season 5. | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2603 The Bloomsbury gigs continue to be lots of fun and are the perfect opportunity for me to work up my childhood stories into a tight routine. I am finding new bits and pieces to add to them each night, but also managing to stick exactly to my 7 minute time slot. It's turning into a bit of a routine though and it's a little weird to be in the same place every night with a similar group of people. The journey home is becoming a bit like a commute, passing the same landmarks and doing the same route. | |
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| I knew I'd missed an album out from the 'Albums of The Decade' list. I've been racking my brains for ages and then it suddenly came to me! It's this little rare gem from 2001:  Although the Norwegian pair of tech-savvy masterminds may of sparked the desire for an eager lady to go on weekend binges in Ikea and think she's way above everybody else in blonde pressed wigs -she knows who she is-. Anyway, this is a very good album and it's as simple as that. This is a nice solid album that can be worn in any weather, especially when coming down from drugs. You can just lie there in bed thinking you're going to die, hallucinating the Summer morning sky is actually the fires of Hell, feeling your body jolt when it hasn't worn off yet, leaving the phone to ring and all messages to remain as bitter words and never apologising for what you've done to your own conscience or your 'friends' And when you're ready to leave your bed after hours of shaking and fumble into the kitchen for a bag of crisps; that's when you can replay this album. That's when you can sit there five years older and say 'I'll never make that mistake again' - Music:Royksopp - Remind Me
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| Tuesday, to the Perseverance pub in Marylebone for a musical varieties night featuring a compere who did songs with puppets, Helen McCookerybook who did lovely folky acoustic numbers that reminded me of the long lost Po!, an Irish-Jewish Bob Dylan-alike, Steve’s new side project Trees and the Slipway, Amy’s Acton Bell ensemble, ex-Piney collaborator Lightning Leo and his rock guitar, and the rather gorgeous Katy Carr who did music hall songs on her ukulele. It’s not often that this jaded, music-weary woman is blown away, but she was so striking and had such an unusual voice, as if she were the reincarnation of Marie Lloyd. I’d love to see her play at Wilton’s Music Hall. There was much singing along, from Lonely This Christmas to Brick In the Wall to the finale of Silent Night. If everyone had a good old sing song ‘round the old joanna every now and then, the X Factor wouldn’t need to exist. And it was a bargain for £4, especially as I was the first winner in the raffle (prize: a packet of crisps). | |
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| *DRUMROLL PLEASE*
Albums of the Decade - Please note: Although this may be slightly obsessive* I've tried to work all the rankings of these albums out self-consciously although the first five are a given.
(* - Well in fairness I didn't have many friends and I was in high school when most of these albums came out so they've stuck on my 'Hmmm-a-good-album-and-one-day-I'll-make-a-nice-list' brain. If you're struggling to see then just humour it but The Ordinary Boys first album had to go somewhere in fairness.)
Morrissey - You Are the Quarry (2004)
Belle and Sebastian - Push Barman To Open Old Wounds (2005)
Belle and Sebastian - BBC Sessions, Double CD (2008)
LCD Soundsystem - LCD Soundsystem (2005)
The Dears - No Cities Left (2003)
Moldy Peaches - The Moldy Peaches (2000)
Zero 7 - Simple Things (2001)
Yppah - You Are Beautiful at All Times (2006)
St Germain - Tourist (2000)
Broken Social Scene - You Forgot It In People (2002)
Belle and Sebastian - The Life Pursuit (2006)
Flogging Molly - Drunken Lullabies (2002)
Flogging Molly - Float (2008)
The Maccabees - Wall of Arms (2009)
Gogol Bordello - Gypsy Punks: Underdog World Strike (2005)
Belle and Sebastian - If You're Feeling Sinister, Live at The Barbican (2005)
The Be Good Tanyas - Chinatown (2003)
LCD Soundsystem - Sound of Silver (2007)
Interpol - Turn On The Bright Lights (2002)
Belle and Sebastian - Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant (2000)
Antony and The Johnsons - I Am a Bird Now (2005)
Rufus Wainwright - Poses (2001)
Morrissey - Ringleader of the Tormentors (2005)
Clor - Clor (2005)
Electrelane - The Power Out (2004)
Beastie Boys - To the 5 Boroughs (2004)
Hot Chip - Coming on Strong (2004)
Cypress Hill - Live at the Fillmore (2000)
The Others - The Others (2005)
The Maccabees - Colour It In (2004)
The Rakes - Capture/Release (2005)
Mystery Jets - Making Dens (2006)
Born Ruffians - Red, Yellow, Blue (2008)
Blockhead - Uncle Tony's Colouring Book (2007)
JOINT - Rufus Wainwright - Want One (2003) / Rufus Wainwright - Want Two (2004)
Morrissey - Years of Refusal (2009)
The Thrills - So Much For The City (2003)
M.I.A - Arular (2005)
Sufjan Stevens - Seven Swans (2004)
Tom Vek - We Have Sound (2005)
Control Machete - Solo Para Fanaticos (2002)
Sufjan Stevens - Illinois (2005)
Airborne Toxic Event -Airborne Toxic Event (2006)
Spaced soundtrack - Various Artists (2001)
Badly Drawn Boy - About A Boy OST (2002)
The Streets - Original Pirate Material (2002)
Maximo Park - A Certain Trigger (2005)
Girl in a Coma - Trio BC (2009)
Young Knives - Voices of Animals and Men (2006)
Hacienda Classics - Various Artists (2006)
Cafe Tacuba - Cuatro Camino (2003)
Venetian Snares - Winniepeg Is a Frozen Shithole (2005)
Boredoms - Seadrum - House of Sun (2004)
Gogol Bordello - Super Taranta! (2007)
The Ordinary Boys - Over the Counter Culture (2004)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Morrissey's YATQ is the ultimate and anybody of sound mind will understand that. When he came back in 2004 he was everywhere! A fresh faced, little bloated angry mob of all his past mannerisms rolled into one, so, OK, he did lots of shoots with the NME and seemed a little too 'desperado', but once you squeeze past all the aggression, shiny suits and Bril-Cremed a la quiff he seemed forceful enough to beat the Talibian, British and American armies - and they have tanks!. It seems such a shame that Morrissey can't keep a grasp of the Quarry ammunition. Morrissey gained fans in 2004 and everywhere you went people were hungry for Irish Blood, English Heart (ed- even bloody Fifa ) but those that did eat the Quarry pie seemed somewhat disturbed by this man's back-catalog, well anything striding away from The Smiths. They loved the usual 'This Charming Man', 'Still Ill' but they could never get the words right or the correct Morrissey-esq attitude.
Most of those 2004 Quarry fans didn't stick around after Ringleader of The Tormentors, even though it did make a shock appearance at number 1, they didn't hang around for Years of Refusal or Swords and I doubt they bought the TRIPLE(!!) reissue of Morrissey's singles or the Smiths boxed vinyl with badges and a poster, but that's OK, because we, and when I say 'we' I mean most of my Morrissey cronies and those shape shifting contributors on Morrissey Solo, we had him back to ourselves. - Music:the thick of it (series 2)
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| To illustrate its story about cheques, today's Scotsman is running a full page photo of Gary Linneker and Des Lynam sitting next to each other, both holding onto a cheque. The caption reads: 'Cheques were the preferred option for many people until recently but the rise of credit and debit cards has sounded their death knell'.
What the caption and article fail to explain or refer to in any way is the fact that Des Lynam is dressed as a nun. You'd think this would be a bigger story, wouldn't you? I didn't even realise Des Lynam was Catholic. | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2602 After recording two podcasts- Collings and Herrin 95 followed by Perfect Twelve Christmas Special number 2 with Phil Wilding and Phill Jupitus (which will be out on Monday), I headed to the Bloomsbury for the second of Robin Ince's "Nine Lessons and Carols for Godless People" shows. | |
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| http://www.richardherring.com/warmingup/warmingup.php?id=2601 After a possibly deserved long lie-in, I headed down to Chiswick to do the supermarket shop, post some letters and buy a Christmas tree. I went to my shopping bag drawer to get my "Bags For Life", but when I opened it I was hit in the face by the overwhelming smell of rotting fish. It was pungent and immediate and surprisingly not very pleasant. I remembered that last time we'd been shopping one of our packets of fish had leaked a little bit. But only a little bit. I hadn't thought any more about it. But now I was thinking about it. | |
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