The Writing of Darker Killingbeck

Because I am feeling a bit weary tonight, I simply wanted to take five minutes from writing to enjoy a change of pace. I did not intend to write anything tonight for the blog, though I have been writing for the last hour. However, I wanted to make a couple of notes with respect to Darker Killingbeck.

The land I describe in this third part is a landscape, of course, I have experienced and am in fact familiar with. Oh yes I have been out there in the dark walking off hills and along those roads.

But much more exciting is my use of a well remembered quote from the wonderful Christopher Marlowe. As my protagonist stands at the top of another steep hill - my life feels like it has been a series of steep hills - he is suddenly aware of the night on his shoulders and the stars clinging to the sky.

I hope you enjoy part 3 of the story, my little humble homage to the incredible Italo Calvino - can I urge you to read this writer? I am about to read his commentary The Uses of Literature, but, of course, you guys read what you want.

The Road To Darker Killingbeck -Part Three 'The Stranger In The Mirror.' Coming Soon!

Serge

LYRICS OF THE MONTH

LYRICS OF THE MONTH

The prize this month goes to Conductor 71. Yay! Trumpets and such like!

Okay, I admit I dissed this song when it was commented on. I said I didn't like this song, true, but when I later considered the lyrics, read them over several times I changed my mind, these are great lyrics and I eat humble pie. Well done Conductor 71 your prize is winging its way to you. It's an angel in case you didn't know, a guardian angel actually, and I don't care if you don't believe in them the angel will arrive soon...you'll just know, it will kind of hang around and do angely things...

Artist: Black
Lyrics Song: Wonderful Life

Here I go out to sea again
The sunshine fills my hair
And dreams hang in the air

Gulls in the sky and in my blue eyes
You know it feels unfair
There's magic everywhere

Look at me standing
Here on my own again
Up straight in the sunshine

No need to run and hide
It's a wonderful, wonderful life
No need to hide and cry
It's a wonderful, wonderful life

Sun in your eyes
The heat is in your hair
They seem to hate you
Because you're there

And I need a friend
Oh, I need a friend
To make me happy

Not stand here on my own
Look at me standing
Here on my own again
Up straight in the sunshine

I need a friend
Oh, I need friend
To make me happy
Not so alone
Look at me here
Here on my own again
Up straight in the sunshine:

Mise En Scene 2

I suppose really mise en scene is the beginning point of analysing a film. Best way to put it is thast it represents what can be seen in the frame, that is actors and their acting and movement, scenery, props, the point of view from which the audience sees the art form, the lighting, setting. Don't forget the pre-filmic situation where things are decided, like where the director wants to point his shooter, whether or not the movie is in black and white or glorious technicolour (the filmstock) even consider the framing, what is seen, how has the scene been trimmed or chopped and depth of field.

Try this, think about an opening scene of a film you liked, what did it convey to you (setting the scene) what wre the props, what were the actors doing, was it a close-up shot or pull back wide angle, perhaps you noticed the lighting? Think about meaning and messages, overt and or hidden. Go back, take a segment say the camera work, was it close-up or wide angle. If it was close-up, think about the same scene as a wide angle. Think about the different impacts this would have on had you. Close-up, good for a feeling of menace, for example, wide angle good for introducing action or adventure. Think about the props and the actors and the way they performed. If you have got this far it is a start.

David G

Mise En Scene 2

I suppose really mise en scene is the beginning point of analysing a film. Best way to put it is thast it represents what can be seen in the frame, that is actors and their acting and movement, scenery, props, the point of view from which the audience sees the art form, the lighting, setting. Don't forget the pre-filmic situation where things are decided, like where the director wants to point his shooter, whether or not the movie is in black and white or glorious technicolour (the filmstock) even consider the framing, what is seen, how has the scene been trimmed or chopped and depth of field.

Try this, think about an opening scene of a film you liked, what did it convey to you (setting the scene) what wre the props, what were the actors doing, was it a close-up shot or pull back wide angle, perhaps you noticed the lighting? Think about meaning and messages, overt and or hidden. Go back, take a segment say the camera work, was it close-up or wide angle. If it was close-up, think about the same scene as a wide angle. Think about the different impacts this would have on had you. Close-up, good for a feeling of menace, for example, wide angle good for introducing action or adventure. Think about the props and the actors and the way they performed. If you have got this far it is a start.

Mise en scene

I would like to talk to this at some point with reference to Andrew Sarris and his ideas about it (I like them). Not tonight, going into town.

David G

Auteur

Before we go into films, and I will have to bone up on The Archers, Powell and Pressburger, just a few lines on auteur. It's a french word, as you know, meaning author. The problem is that books have one author, whereas movies have many people,who collaborate to make the art work or not.

Autuer, then reperesnts forme and please feel free to argue, one strong individual director who puts his stamp on a work that is clearly his - I should have said or she (Katherine Biggelow who I think is absolutely fabulous, Point Break, in my opinion was agreat movie and I am quite willing to deconstruct)

So far so good, look forward to hearing from you all.

David G

Jay's Photographs

Hi my name is El, and I think, apart from a few silly quotes this is the first time I have posted and I am nervous.

Felt I had to say something about Jay Esposito's wonderful photographs.

In the first one, dancer, he gets a wonderful feeling of movement into the shot, and the focus is sharp. It is also rich with colour and what I call happening. I think this is an extraordinary photograph which conveys the passion of the dancer and the dynamic of dancing.

The second photograph of the Brooklyn barber shop is so natural it is wonderful. The chap is in the cahir waiting for his haircut and rading his newspaper and the barber is busily attending to him. Perhaps they are chatting about 'baseball'. Also the light hitting the mirror in the background is a touch of class in this photograph.

I was really impressed by these editions to the blog and both I felt were worthy of commenting on. Hope that was okay.

EL

PIETRO'S GOOD AND WONDERFUL NEWS

So i say to you a very very big news...i'll paint the only and the first covered skate park of Rome !!!!

it will be painted with spray and i'll cover up to 500 m2 of walls !!!! i want to make it the best and the bigger wall in Roma painted with spray and for my project (shhhh is a secret!!!) i think to use the bigger character ever seen...KING KONG !!!

it will be very powerfull and aggressive!!! think that... only a hand of kong it will be bigger of a standing man and it will catch airplanes and skaters(there is a skaters-pool just in front of this wall)...ahahhasauhsd in the background there are some views of NYcity and Rome in a black version (black like late for universe :D) and some ruins were plants take over and strike!!!

i'm very excited and this night (not sleeping night) i've just done some drawings of KONG with open mouth...POWERFULL !! it say..."WHO'S THE KING ?" referred to skaters in front and it have a big jewelled crown in head :D

PIETRO (Graffiti Artist, Rome 26/02/07)

Tonight Tonight

I have just received permission to post photographs by Jay Esposito, which is brilliant news and I am including the link to his website here www.jayesposito.deviantart.com please visit, I am a big fan. I will also put the link on the right hand side of the blog.

Barnyard 2.

Of course animals being given hman traits has a long history, from way to the red indians. I think animated movies are great and by the way it keeps saying Sergio X but this is David G posting.

Barnyard

I have not seen this animated film, but I have read about it and I seem to visualise it as a sort of Animal Farm snorts coke and lightens up with some fun??? I must make a mental note to see this one.

Wallace and Grommet are very clever, and I am sure Barnyard will be just as good, so that is a recommendation from who was it had this marvellous idea, sorry I forget?

Hi Again

Sergio loves Batman, and I always thought his relationship with Robin a bit suspect. Anyone with half decent gaydar could tell they were an item. Have to admit The Dark Knight Returns was good comic book stuff, and it reminds me of Serge. Remeber the story? Batman has retired but is dismayed with the state of Gotham city and the criminals who run it. Middle-aged he comes out of retirement for one last go at trying to rid the Gotham streets of crime. Now Serge was always putting the world to rights at uni and all these years later things are worse. Stop drinking those Buds Serge, come back and save the world.

Soon I am going to post my favourite films of all time - including Meet me in St Louis.

UNCLE Quote of the Week

Being as Sergio thinks he’s soooo funny – a comedian no less – I feel duty bound (I’ve taken the UNCLE oath after all!) to respond in kind, and hopefully snap him out of his sadly deluded thinking....

Illya Kuryakin: Humour is the gadfly on the corpse of tragedy.
Napoleon Solo: Who said that? Pushkin?
Illya Kuryakin: My grandmother!

(The Pieces of Fate Affair)

Don’t know if this quote is word perfect – I nicked this Illya-ism from an excellent MFU tribute page (www.manfromuncle.org/bioillya.htm) as I didn’t have time to look it up.

Axasha.

MAN FROM UNCLE QUOTE

"Napoleon, you know I love you?" Said Illya. "You've got such strong hands."
"I have, haven't I. But enough of this already we have work to do! We have to sort out the Extra, Extra affair!" Solo replied determinedly.
"You're right my pet, business before pleasure, that's what I always say." Kuryakin countered.

MY LIFE AS A COMIC BOOK SUPERHERO

London just happens to be one of my favourite cities. I've spent quite a lot of time in the capital and I used to travel down regularly and stay with friends. Actually there are two particular areas of the capital I used to know quite well. Ruislip, including The Orchard pub and St Martins church with the little children's graveyard and the area around Euston, The Rocket pub and the British library. I also knew little bits of Kilburn and had another friend who lived in the Belsize Park area,

What I really enjoyed about going to London was a trip to the football at Tottenham Hotspur, or the dogs at Wembley and once, I recall, we travelled across the city to Walthamstow. You can say what you like but it is such an exciting city.

I can remember the ads posted in newsagents windows and in the old red telephone boxes, literary hundreds of them and sometimes left as little business cards 'Latino Massage- for all your pleasures call etc etc' or 'Madame Large Bosom, everything you have ever wanted - call etc etc for price list.' or 'Miss Whiplash dominatrix, exclusive black leather bound action!'
To be honest I found it a fascinating city, and when I went down I often stayed around the Hayes area, where I knew people.

As you can see the blog has been busy over the last month, and I have promises from two really cool friends of mine (actually any friend of mine is kool) that they will post soon.
Those who have posted have impressed with their intellect, dare I say it, wit and comments.
As for me the next two weeks stretching out before me are going to very busy. To begin with I have less than two weeks to complete 25,000 words - I'll tell you about it Rashaun - and deadlines for Sunday and Wednesday of this week. I am also working on a new little project, which has certainly captured a few imaginations and is coming along a lot faster than I anticipated. I have also offered my Christina Sealey interview, the Canadian artist to Derek Tucker at the Press and Journal and have one other little thing on the go - which I don't want to mention here at this little space in time.

In the meantime keep wearing your underwear over your day clothes and keep the crayons working...

Hey This Is Cool

I am just waiting permission to post Jay Esposito photographs, keep your fingers crossed.

Great News

I have it from a really good friend of mine that they will post in the next couple of days. I have a lot of respect for my very good friend, something not to be missed.

Sergio

THE ROAD TO DARKER KILLINGBECK

So, you're thinking 'What is happening here?' It's a common and useful thought, and I am - as you can see - thinking about what you are thinking in this darkness we all share, which, in turn, is kind of cyclical if you see what I mean. And, it's the same for us all, a kind of grey bleakness, punctuated by moments of isolated bliss, happiness, stupidity and tunnels - a smile on the face of the cherubic,pretty girl with the blonde hair, cute dimples and a row of red spots across her forehead...bloody axe in her hand, her boyfriend dead in the communal bath they share with their flatmates, ever wondered what drives people?

Maybe this speaks to you?

In Byers Road the driver in the baseball cap is running away toward University Avenue, a strange flapping running style like a demented duck, while pinhead is squealing 'Come back Brett ya divvi!' in an impossibly high pitched shrill with a warped accent, her hand shaking as she curses and places a John Players Kingsize cigarette in her badteeth gob.

The old crone has strayed to the edge of the crowd gathered around my body looking down. She pushes to the front and spits a curse, tells me where to shove Italo Calvino.

And I look up and see a man with weak grey eyes and death in his face kneeling on the road and staring down at me in alarm.

Someone has called for a doctor and he has pushed himself forward calling out 'Let me through, let me through I am a doctor!'

I can smell the tarmac and petrol and hear a multitude of voices chattering anxiously about me and The Smiths sing Heaven Knows I Am Miserable Now bizarrely on the car stereo.

So can I ask? Haven't you ever thought, of all the wonderful films your life could have become, you find yourself at a certain point in your life and wonder how you got here? All those people with their heads up their posterior who have interfered with your progress, undermined your confidence, how much misery and damage do people do to each other in the name of nothing but barbarism?

So do you search for something that will add to your understanding of what it means to be alive at a certain time, in a certain era, perhaps even in a certain house, in a certain street, in a certain district of a certain city and then you get to thinking how small you really are. Which, for most of us, is existence, standing at the margins...waiting and mocking us... and while we wait we try and work it all out, watch as people walk away without a wave, wonder why we give ourselves away so easily to those who don't really care about us, and think about those gone too soon.

A police officer, his eyes bulging with determination, leaps from his patrol car and gives chase after the baseball capped duck and someone takes a photgraph and captures two deteriorating lives in the solitary moment...

So anyway I find myself, late at night, on a road stretching out for miles ahead of me in the middle of nowhere. On either side of me there is nothing but empty fields, gorse, peat and wild heather rising to rocky outcrops, grey shaped forms watching every step I take, bathed in creamy moonlight from a full moon, mountains rising in the distance making big hump back whale shadows in the dark.

The road is grey black and split by light and shadow from the rocks.

All this talk of Heaven and death is unsettling. Walking alone toward - whatever way you want to think about it - my destiny.

Suddenly, overhead I hear a UH60 Black Hawk Sikorsky helicopter fly overhead. 'This is a multimission airship with over 2000 in service with the United States forces, yes sir, sergeant sir.' I salute as it passes above me and watch as it swings round to head south for Somalia.

The night is growing cold, a stiff breeze rises from the east. Voices carried on the wind, remind me of the many people I have known, the nights spent talking into the early hours with others. Having a Bud, relaxing, saving the world...

Before me, the road, straight as the edge of a newspaper, rises up a steep hill in the distance. I turn my collar up against the wind and bow my head into the night.

SERGIO

A QUOTE (WITH APOLOGIES TO EL)

Fit the mold and do what you're told
Get a job and start growing old
9 to 5 can make your dreams come true (Aye Right!)
But I don't wanna be like you (And what part of don't do you not understand?)

(American Hi Fi The Art Of Losing and that's me that added the 'aye right!' And also 'and what part of don't do you not understand in case ye didna notice.)

I've
Felt
Like this
Since I started
Work in the factory
Nothing has
Changed

Oooh! Shiny new members of the kollektive!

So, Sergio says he wants writing with bite?! Well, being as I loved EL's quotes, I thought I might just lower the tone for a moment - if I may - with a quote of my own:

The scene: UNLCE's finest, Napoleon Solo & Illya Kuryakin attempt to placate an Innocent ( a gorgeous female, natch!) who doubts their motives (they want access to her molar which picks up radio signals!) -

Innocent: "I don't know what kind of a girl you think I am!"
Napoleon: "Believe me, believe me, we're only interested in your tooth."
Illya: "And nothing but the tooth."

Ah bliss!

Axasha.
(Sorry, no more UNCLE - I promise!)

MY LIFE AS A COMIC BOOK SUPERHERO

Excellent artwork, cracking poems, stories, music reviews, and references to the Man From Uncle. But apart from that the blog seems to be heading in the right direction. You know I am only kidding...

To be honest I have been impressed by the contributions from Hayles, Axasha, David G. Pietro and El. Witty, intelligent and all of them unpaid. There are, I promise, more contributions to come. From America, and hopefully, Australia.

This week, I have been busy lining up a couple of really exciting interviews - watch this space - carrying out research, and writing. In addition I have been trying to put a project together, which I feel has potential, though it is in its early stages and we will just have to wait and see where that goes.

I was also given a really fascinating book called I Hate Myself and WantTo Die, The 52 Most Depressing Songs You've Ever Heard. Written by a guy called Tom Reynolds. It is a nice little trip around cemetery mentality and blackness with the author doing a fine job on the research and background to the 52 tearjerkers included.

Me? I have been riding trains, blissfully entering tunnels and taking part in other hedonistic pursuits, though not underwater Salsa dancing or speed linedancing - you could do yourself an injury trying a backward flip to Billy Ray Cyrus singing Achy Breaky Heart at 78rpm!

Oh, and joy of all f@cking joys, the new ATB Hearts Fanzine is now available...and that ladies and gentlemen is real hedonism.

Sergio

MY OWN QUOTE

Who cares what people look like on the outside? Beauty can only truly come from within. Now excuse me while I prepare for my boob job.


EL

QUOTE2

I DON'T WANNA WORK AT STARBUCKS! I WANNA SHAKE THE BOURGEOISIE OUTTA THEIR COMPLACENCY!


EL

QUOTE

You work in a job you hate, to buy stuff you don't need, to impress people who, at the end of the daylight, don't give a flying stuff about you, not really.


EL

I was listening to Hard-Fi the other night and the song Cash Machine, it reminded me of when I was at uni with Sergio. He always made me laugh, a great deal. I was always impressed by how he could get song titles into essays. I remember he got U2's Unforgettable Fire into an essay about Wordsworth and wrote about Walt Disney cartoons in another essay about somebody like Gerald Manly Hopkins or somebody, can't remember who. And wrote an essay on Marlowe goddammit with quotes from Cosmicomics in it and got a great mark as I recall. He always got good marks as well, for takin the piss, the bast%%d, and everyone liked him, cept his tutor who was suspicious about him.

He's asked me to contribute, so how could I refuse spelling is optional.
I like Hard-Fi in general but the words to this are great.
Go to the cash machin to get a ticket home
A message on the screen says don't make plans your broke

Have you been there, I have.
I like thr tune as well, it is, or reminds me of a march - don't know why
Another line is
Better believe it, I'm working for the cash machine
How very true. It's like we're being conned and I think that's a great line.
Of course nowadays we are older and I am wiser, that is all I am going to say.
Can I also say that my great passion is film, but haven't seen anything good to write about.
David G

THE ROAD TO DARKER KILLINGBECK

I am going to tell you a story, which may or may not be true. It's a story I know only too well and you'll soon see why. So park your lard in your favourite chair and just listen.

Darker Killingbeck for the uninitiated is where creative people go when they die.

A gigantic city of dark tower blocks, multi-ethnic districts and a fully functioning underground metro system. Angles, shapes, concrete, glass and miracles of engineering and architecture. It's where, I suppose, I've always lived. Where crowds of people, cars, traders, the homeless, weirdos, geeks, anoraks and trainspotters live cheek by jowl. A suicidial world of life rushing past as the rest of us standstill - now this is beginning to feel a bit like a poem - so let's conjure up an image.

Let's say I am having a coffee at my favourite organic cafe 'Dare' In Byers Road. It's a sunny day, so I am sitting at a table on the pavement. I am enjoying an Americano while doing corrections in my black book when a woman approaches from the harbour.

"You’ll have to excuse my lateness" She smiles "I’m just back from hauling my twin baskets of peat and silver darlings across the har covered sheiling. My tartan skirts muddied by the glaur, my oiled wool shawl about my bony shoulders, my clay pipe firmly in place in the corner of my old crone’s mouth.....Uh-huh."
"Uh-huh" I nod. "Have you read Italo Calvino's If On A Winter's Night A Traveller?" She shakes her head. "Invisible Cities? The Castle of Crossed Destinies? Cosmicomics, perhaps?"
"Are you taking the rip?" She says glaring at me and then suddenly pulls a Beretta Storm Rifle from her basket and points it at me.

I panic, knock over the table in my haste to get away and run for cover. A car flashing its lights heads directly for me, I turn, see the woman from the harbour lift the rifle and aim. Glance around in time to see the car bearing down on me. The door of the pub - The Wind That Shakes Barley On a Very Cold Night In April - straight across the road from the cafe opens. Hard-Fi's Hard To Beat blasting out momentarily.

Leaves me thinking I always imagined I'd be part of a car crash.

The guy in the car - young and flash character, with a poor excuse for a moustache and sporting an Adidas baseball cap - is listening to Tupac Shakur on his stereo. He is glancing toward his pinhead girlfriend (blonde hair, overbloated,thick make-up and Burberry scarf) when, at the last minute he sees me, but forgets to brake and pushes hard on the accelerator instead.

"What the f... git oot o' the way, ya maddie, whit's he daein man aaaaarrrgghhh!" The driver screams.
"Look oot Brett yer gonna hit...aaaaaarrrggghhh!"

To be continued.

Now you can comment...happy?

MY LIFE AS A COMIC BOOK SUPERHERO

In life's long, dark tunnel, or 'hamster' wheel of the night, we plod. Does anyone out there think that may become a regularly quoted piece of english literature? No? Probably not.

As we indicated last week this blog is for creative people. An elite of thinkers and people who don't just swallow the everyday and ill-considered preconceived notions of existence, but who like to push the boundaries a bit. Sheep need not apply.

I am delighted to say I have managed to enlist the help of friends from different backgrounds and whose expertise and artistic and creative leanings are varied, should make the space something special.

It is, of course, just over one week since the blog started, and contributions from Hayles and the 'groupie' from UNCLE, Axasha have electrified the globe with their creative poise, wit and itellect. Axasha, who in her own words, 'just breezed by' - I am going to resist any references to 'feisty' at this point (look it up) - and Hayles who presented us with a poem to make us all think. I know from reading the comments more of her poems have been requested.

Axasha, mused on why the the 'Kollektive' had two K's and not two C's. She suggested that it might be a reference to Kafka - nice try, but sorry no cigar (She has been known to chew a clay pipe between her teeth though). She also, in a sort of magic realist fashion supposed it was some cryptic reference to Kuryakin (Illya of Man From Uncle ilk - well hello? No, it wasn't that either. I simply chose two K's instead of two C's because I figured it might actually sound more creative.

So you see, superheroes of the comic book variety, apart from the ability to nonchalantly wear their underpants over their trousers, are also required to respond to situations and challenges at short notice.

Maybe in the week to come, more of our specially invited contributors will make their mark. Between chewing carrots and meditating, underwater Salsa dancing and speed linedancing, they might actually find time to contribute...you know who I mean.

SERGIO

My second post to the kollektive. Go me!

Seryozha has challenged me to read some quality literature for a change, instead of the pulp fiction spy stories I generally favour - those wonderful cheap ‘dime novels’ featuring my boys, I mean Men from U.N.C.L.E. – Napoleon and Illya!
(The, “…all-American Adonis and the resourceful Russian...”©TNT.)
I’m a librarian in “real” life so this seems fair enough. Y’know, keeping my hand in and reading the odd piece of classic literature every once in a while…
Still, I maintain that, “there’s no such thing as trashy fiction, only trashy readers”. Sergio knows better and assures me I’ve just got lousy taste. (Drat. Rumbled!)

Which brings me to Franz Kafka’s short story, “A Hunger Artist”, and our experiment in “paired reading”. So far I’ve read the word, “relay”. (Yep, that’s all... Heh, I know, I should be ashamed. This is in no way a reflection on the great Kafka of course!) I claim that this is terribly avant guarde of me. Sergio knows better and assures me that I’m just lazy. (Drat. Rumbled again! Damn the man.) But he’s a swot and read the whole story in about 3 seconds.

Anywho. Serge, today’s word is, “cage”. Your thoughts? Members of the kollektive?

Axasha.

Just thought I'd breeze by and say, "Hi!" to the kollektive, and especially my good friend, nay tovarishch, Seryozha. (Waves!)
I have to say that this whole writing on the internet thing is quite frankly...terrifying. I'm a little tongue-tied..Heh.
So, as the blogger(?!?) virgin that I am I'll settle for losing my cherry by posing this question to the kollektive: Why all the "K"s? Is this some charming Kafkaesque reference? Teen, I mean middle age angst? I'm personally inclined to view it as a homage to my favourite Russian (the Hamster is Russian, isn't it?), a certain Mr Kuryakin.... (Giggles.)

Oh yes, and Hayles? Your poem is quite quite beautiful.

Axasha.

Hello my name is Hayles and will be your blogger for the time being. Writing on the Internet is such a weird feeling, it's like talking to the whole world and talking to nobody at the same time. Well for my first post I'm not going to talk about me, instead I'm going to showcase one of my poems. (Mainly because this is an artistic blog). It's not Burns or Shakespeare but hopefully you'll like it.

Mirror


Facing the truth in a pane of pain,
I smile back, but it’s not the same
Why do they say “mirrors don’t lie”
This façade of a face is dying all the time.
My soul laments a silent plea
“Don’t fall apart
At least not now”

And don’t they know, you’ll make the Angels cry
You’ve frozen your heart
Where your demons lie
There’s no rest for the eternal scream
Rely on your mask to make it what it seems
Imagine a world, where you are free
It will workout… Somehow.

ALIEN HAMSTER KOLLEKTIVE

TRACK OF THE WEEK

"Eels - Losing Streak" (From the album Blinking Lights and Other Revelations)

'Wished that I was dressed better ' is my favourite line from Eels Losing Streak from his classic double album opus Blinking Lights and Other Revelations. And, those of you who know me will no doubt nod wisely and know why I resonate with this sadly, melancholic line.

This is so - birthplace Geeksland - with a central character who is suddenly shedding his losing streak and asking 'Was I wrong about the world?/ It's a beautiful place.'

What I love about this cut, however, is the busy little piano riff and that wonderfully understated bass - it's just sort of there in the background furtively worming its way through space. It's actually a jolly little ditty with a smashing soaring little crash after the verse and pre-entry to the chorus. It has a carnival feel, laced with sad, minor chords, which drive it along through some astoundingly direct lyrics. In fact it is fairly simple song with all the contradictions and complexities of really great music.

'Always felt like giving in/To the feeling I can't win' is where we have all been with our ex-girlfriends -ex-boyfriends-ex-wives- ex-husbands and the dreaded bank teller with the ripped face and dyed hair. Like a refugee from a Stephen King horror novel, there she is behind her computer, smiling - I'll rephrase that - grinning - the bloody axe unseen by the hapless customer.

"Good morning, how can I help you today?" Inflated cheesy smile, tilt head 45 degrees, flash eyelahses.
"Oh yes, I wonder if you'd mind awfully pretty if you would be so good to change this cheque for cash?"
Whoomph - head chopped off in one movement...
"Eh...no, sorry we don't do cheques on a Saturday morning...read the small print freak! Next!"

You know who I am talking about...

SERGIO

ALIEN HAMSTER KOLLEKTIVE

MY LIFE AS A COMIC BOOK SUPERHERO

You know what it's like.

You're driving home in the early hours of the morning with nothing to focus on save some glib pop on the radio - Duran Duran's The Reflex - and the roadkill on the motorway (gruesome). On the passenger's seat, pages of The Dark Knight Returns comic book flickers in the breeze from the open driver's window. You suspect the weather is changing and about to develop into a storm.

Sure enough, It starts to rain, and soon it is torrential. Lightning suddenly licks the doomladen charcoal grey skies above you and somewhere between Edinburgh and Glasgow you have one of those magic realism moments of inspiration.

'Why' I say to myself, 'Don't I start a blog and invite some of the most creative people I know to contribute? People who can write about art, film, literature, music, drama, philosphy, politics and the human condition. Guys who can write with spectacular dynamism and verve - well let's just start with those that can write!!! Intellectual, clever people who can dazzle with their thought, enlighten with their discussion.'

I decided in that moment to invite those creative souls I knew to the 'blog party' and started to assemble a team of bloggers fit for purpose. People ready to achieve their sunflower seed targets and able to give insights into the kind of underwear superheroes wear over their trousers. Some of the finest alien hamsters on the planet in fact.

Curly haired thespians, weirdly dressed drama queens and curiously morose trainspotters, for whom Wednesdays are no longer put aside for cleaning out their sock drawers. Individuals, who take great delight at wearing stripey pyjamas in the face of adversity and in the teeth of howling gales. An elite squad of superheroes proudly displaying talent and ability as well as being convinced that there is life on Mars. Each with their own unique catchphrase...and erm... and security tags.

Literary revolutionaries of the third kind, art gorillas - sorry - art guerrillas, urban armies of the musical night.

Quite simply the blinking lights of a dying galaxy taking the trip - nice reference to the psychedelic sixties. An editorial team of brilliant, but alas, totally naive blogsters. Ready and willing and grinning like maniacs, their crayons poised at the ready...red...green...blue...pur

SERGIO (February One 2007)