Troubadours and Airheads - Benicassim Festival

6th August - Day 3




Devendra Banhart and his acolytes... oh what joy! From the commune-like stage-sharing to the subtle variations in pace and style make this thorougly enjoyable. There is enough folk-stomp to get our feet tapping but also the requisite acoustic slot midway. However Devendra does not drag on and places his songs in context with brief explanations in his lilting South-American accent. These anecdotes create a narrative that weaves around all the songs. Devendra Banhart's success is not down necessarily to his musical prowess but the way in which he manages to flesh out his songs in his own reality. His appearance at Benicassim heightens the aforementioned reality, furthering the myth and making him an artistic and popular success.



Xiu Xiu were up next in my to-see list. A little too experimental, their show veered from understated melody to overstated harshness for no visible reason. On top of that the pair spent much of their time hidden behind their instruments, this became quickly frustrating.



Kings of Convenience played a polite and polished set which I savoured from the touchlines. Certain sounds and rhythms were surprisingly jazzy verging on funky without ever losing the muted tension from their fingerpicked guitars.

!!! were certainly much more danceable but sadly their set suffered the same fate as Peaches'. Namely, the bass frequencies were turned up ridiculously loud and as a result all of the rapturous cowbells and rhythmic intricacy were drowned out. Thankfully, the frontman's didactic presence saved the day to some extent.

Ladytron were the huge dissappointment of the day. Helen and Mia were dressed in a awful dress and jewellery which seems to eschew any synthpop tension of their early shows. The overall impression was that they were breezing through to go to bed early. Diametrically opposed to Devendra Banhart, this is a band who are quickly losing their mystique. They are no longer "Showroom Dummies".

Not on tape

Tchernobyl Disco
written by Marco Tulio Thrash

If I told you my heart was radioactive,
Would you stay w/ me today?
If I told you my heart was poisoned,
Would you stay w/ me today?

Tchernobyl Disco
Come and dance w/ me.
Tchernobyl Disco
Come and dance w/ me.

Slow not cold,
Staring TV screens.
Cordon me off, I'm a lost cause.
Easy not sleazy,
Reading magazines.
Cordon me off, I'm a lost cause.

Tchernobyl Disco
Come and dance w/ me.
Tchernobyl Disco
Come and dance w/ me.

Decomission me...useless.
Decomission me...fallout.
Decomission me...useless.
Decomission me...fallout.

Draw a graph, you'll see the future.
I'm detrimental not instrumental.
Draw a graph, you'll see the future
I'm obsolete and incomplete.

as performed by yours truly at the 'Pop In' Club last night.

Fallout

Marco Tulio Thrash will sing-along to Tchernobyl Disco for the Sunday Open Mic Night at the 'Pop In' club, rue Amelot, Paris.

Marco Tulio Thrash chantera son Tchernobyl Disco le dimanche 4 Sep. à la soirée Open Mic au 'Pop In', rue Amelot, 11e (Métro: St Sébastien-Froissart)

Transposition (Corrigé)

Soon my bedroom will be laid out in the lounge. This redistribution of space is in aid of helping me get me round my things.

The photograph below does not depict neither my room or the lounge. It's a shot of a random kitchen. We'll just have to get used to it.



En quelques heures, ma chambre sera étalé dans la salle de séjour. Cette rédistribution spatiale m'aidera à raisonner autour de ces piles de choses.

Cette photo ne montre ni ma chambre ni le salon. En fait c'est une prise d'une cuisine au hasard. On fait avec.

Slack

I was thinking about Richard Linklater's infamous debut and the fear of losing clarity and resolve through experimentation.

City Probe Scanner

Tired, late and riddled with inefficacious self-guilt.
I need something stronger.

Barry Lyndon and The Ducks - Benicassim Festival

5th August - Day 2

We begin the day the day with Les Très Bien Ensemble signed to that bastion of indie cool that is Elefant Records. Sadly, beyond the fact that the guitarist has the same guitar as me, I don't really find any common ground. They play a sophisticated brand of gallicised pop, which although is not entirely objectionable, doesn't really capture the hearts of the crowd. They fail to make the stage their own.



The Kills (above)...hip-shaking...pouting guitarist who used to be in Scarfo...hair is in the face...basic beats...plentiful smoke machine. It's complete and fulfilling.

Lemon Jelly plunder their jolly debut e.p for this set to bring back some of the sampled goofiness of British pre-millenial beats and breaks scene.

Fischerspooner take the stage and remind us exactly why we left that beats and breaks guff behind. New album...new show. Keen to dispense the empty pomp and promises of their first album, Casey has regrouped with a tight traditional band set-up. Thus taking the show to a wider audience. Fret thee not however as costume changes and the camp theatrics are all left in there intact.

Only two tracks remain from the debut, rather pragmatically it's the two singles. Following that line of thinking, Casey also perversely thanks the main sponsor of the festival several times, knowing that he will probably be the only one to do so over the next few days.

Emerge is falsely introduced as a new 'secret' song called Peanut Butter Express. However it is played without interruption or modifications. It seems that Casey has finally relented to the whims of the audience. The mid-song interruption has now become obligatory and Casey executes it in a self-conscious and exhausted manner, almost as a mea culpa for past excesses.

In fact that is what the show feels like, tighter, more commercial, a sexy guitarist, playing the second stage like any other band, pop songs... a search for redemption.

Peaches does not cut the mustard, however. Projected dancers?! come on, since when was Lust subjected to budget cuts? Give me my daily ration of flesh, you bitch!

5 Questions - Fischerspooner Press Conference

He threatened to tell us his life story if we didn't ask questions.
Il nous a menacé de nous expliquer l'histoire de sa vie si on ne lui posait pas de questions.



Transcript coming, if and when I manage to transcribe the words mingling with the illbient buzz of my dictaphone.

La transcription arrivera si je peux détacher ses mots du bruit entourant.

Jaume S from the Press Office in Benicassim.

Sweat User - Benicassim Festival (Updated)

4th August - Day 1

After a dry landing and somehow succesfully getting through the heavily congested spanish rail network, DD and I arrived onsite around 10p.m. Bear in mind that we set off at 5a.m.

Polyphonic Spree (Escenario Verde)



They breed like blue rabbits. Some of them at their instruments, others in formation providing the happy chorus. It´s a musical ark, with a harp (which reminds me of Mansfield Park) and a theremin for the greatest delight. Needless to say, harmonies soar effortlessly. They begin with some new tracks, which somewhat trade off the stadium-musical drama of their debut for something tighter and more poignant.



The danger with such an enterprise is reaching a point of sensory saturation where they lose the audience. However classics like 'Soldier Girl' stop this from being a real problem. The flute player on that track has real ball with the intro. However one thing kept nagging DD and me throughout the concert: How the hell did they keep their robes so clean? Do they bring a launderette team on tour.

Jaume S from the Press Office in Benicassim.

4-Dayer 4-Player

The crowd in the sun will observe the game in progress.
Les gens au soleil observeront le jeu sur scène.


I was thankfully not actually airborne.
Ceci n'est pas le prélude d'une catastrophe.

Tourism (No Comment)

Retrospective Slack

I was thinking about Richard Linklater's infamed debut and the fear of loosing clarity or resolve through experimentation.

Heady Sounds - Hedi Slimane Birthday Part II

To read part 1 (click here)
Pour lire la première partie (cliquez ici)

3a.m Eternal Blue Monday is blaring out at the front. I'm in the little red dressing room. Someone passed out on the couch. Though, amazingly, he still manages to tap his toes to the beat.

People come in and out, harsh dust hacked in lungs, two well-buff swedish blondes, black leather abound.

The Moët and my medication finally come together... feel the wrath.

La rythmique brute de Blue Monday traverse même les murs. Il est trois heures du matin et je suis dans les coulisses rouges du Triptyque. Quelqu'un s'est étendu sur le canapé dans un sommeil comatose, cependant le rythme s'invite même dans sa léthargie profonde.

Les gens vont et viennent, une poussière sans répit s'élève dans l'air, deux blonds suédois parlent à gorgée, le cuir noir abonde.

Le Moët et ma médication se vengent finalement en un coup double.



Cazals played a very tight set in every respect, igniting the audience at every song. Backstage, once the congratulations subsided and everyone hit the bar, they stayed there to discuss the gig in minute detail. I dared not twitch lest I disturbed their inquiry.

Cazals ont joué sous haute tension, électrifiant l'audience entière à chaque morceau. Dans les coulisses, une fois les félicitations se sont terminées et que tout le monde est parti au bar, ils restent pour analyser le concert dans la minutie. Je restais immobile pour ne pas importuner leur discussion.



Before the doors opened not much was happening and I had lost Sean. Marv Paddington invited me to come over to the tour bus. On the way there, he spoke about how Josh Paddingon seemed to have inspired Hedi Slimane's penchant for breeches in his latest collection.

Avant que les portes ne s'ouvrirent rien ne se passait de trop, et en plus j'avais perdu Sean de vue. Marv des Paddingtons m'invita à le rejoindre dans le bus. En y allant, il me parla de comment Josh Paddington aurait été une influence silencieuse dans le penchant pour les bretelles que Hedi Slimane semble démontrer dans sa dernière collection.



This is a picture of Lloyd and Marv Paddington taken after getting back from the tourbus. Lloyd recounted an anecdote about a mad italian photographer who had not approved of his yellow Buzzcocks top. Then Grant arrived and the conversation turned to Hull. Grant is the most Falstaffian member of all The Paddingtons.

Une photo de Lloyd et Marv prise à mon retour. Lloyd nous parla de ce photographe fou qui n'avait pas trop aimé son t-shirt des Buzzcocks. Alors Grant arriva et la conversation se tourna vers leur ville natale: Hull. Grant est le membre le plus Falstaff-esque des Paddingtons.



The Paddingtons played louder than a brickwall. Josh and his 'inspiring' breeches are on the left and Tom is clutching the mike.

Le Paddingtons ont joué plus fort qu'un mur de briques. Josh et ses bretelles 'inspirationelles' sont sur la gauche et Tom est au micro.



I had no use for their upper-bodies: Josh and Marv. Fender and Gibson respectively parallel. I leave the next thought to your own judgement.

Je voulais que capturer leur guitares paralleles: Josh et Marv. Fender et Gibson. A vous le choix.



The strobe lights were harsh, the riffs pent up and the crowd wanted a riot.

Champagne was regularly flying into my direction, so I turned around with mingled irritation to catch the culprit in flagranti.*

Les strobes étaient sans patience, les riffs ne pouvaient plus se contenir et l'audience désirait une massacre.

Des flots champagne finissait sur ma tête à rythme soutenu, donc je me suis tourné avec une curiosité mélangé d'une pointe d'irritation et j'ai surpris le suspect dans l'acte.*



If ever Pete decides to retire may be he could move into cinema and thus slingle-handedly resurrect Hammer horror and that rarest of species: the British genre movie.

I should interject: I am not one of those people that squabbles for Pete Doherty's water bottle on the slimy floor of a London pub.

I thought I would take a couple more photographs being rather impressed by his stature. After the second shot, I checked the framing on the preview screen and I realised that I had unwittingly sliced Kate Moss in half.

Si jamais Pete décide de changer de trajectoire il pourrait très bien avec sa carrure réanimer le film d'horreur anglais dans le style formaliste des productions Hammer.

Je m'interrompt: Je ne suis pas un de ces gens qui collectionnent les bouteilles d'eau de Pete Doherty après son concert dans encore un autre pub Londonien.

Impressionné par sa carrure, j'ai pensé à prendre deux autres prises de Pete. Après la deuxième prise je me suis rendu compte que j'avais coupé Kate Moss en deux.



Once onstage the crowd went crazy and it was push come to shove. A moshpit was in formation and I was in the damn middle of it, shit it.

I felt something between my legs as I was lining up my next frame. I looked down for a second...Kate Moss was crouching between my feet.

I tried to make her some space but to little avail as bodies piled forth. Pete sang a couple of songs with the Paddingtons including an impromptu Happy Birthday. Once that was over a pair of arms slid over my shoulders to rescue the moshpit lady herself. I turned around and the knight in shining armour was one of the Pet Shop Boys.

Une fois sur scène, la foule a perdu son calme et c'est devenu une question pousser, tirer. Un monstre était en gestation et j’étais au milieu...argh!!

J'ai senti quelque chose effleurer mes jambes à même temps que j'avais ma prochaine prise dans le champ de mire. J'ai regardé et j'avais Kate Moss entre mes pieds, Pete Doherty devant moi et les bras des Pet Shop Boys à la rescousse de la madone du 'moshpit' derrière moi. Bref, je me sentais violé par la célébrité.



I thought it would be polite to bring a gift so I made a homebrewed compilation. However even on his birthday, Hedi Slimane remained relatively self-effacing and over the few words we exchanged he appeared thankful.

The compilation included (unless I messed up the tracklist): The Fever, The Chap, Ima Robot (thanks DD), Liquid Liquid, Basil Poledouris (Cherry 2000), Virna Lindt (Thanks MPB), Le Club des Chats and Lawrence Wasser.

Once that was done I returned to the little red dressing room and collapsed there for a bit.

J'ai pensé que cela représenterait un minimum de politesse d'apporter un cadeau. Donc j'ai regroupé quelques pépites auditives (voir au-dessus) pour Hedi Slimane. Même à son anniversaire il restait enveloppé d'un calme discret. A travers les quelques mots échangés, j'ai eu l'impression qu'il était reconnaissant de ce CD fait-maison.



4.30p.m What time is love? The washed up dj is playing The Verve and Placebo... it's time to go.

Outside on the dewy tarmac and vacant streets I bump into E. and his Ruskin friend again and we repair to their two star hotel before dawn breaks.

Le Dj a moitié endormi joue Placebo et The Verve... c'est l'heure.

Dehors sur les rues rosées, je retrouve une ancienne connaissance et je le rejoints dans son hôtel avant que le soleil vienne casser tout.

-------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks and Hello to Sean, Cazals, The Paddingtons, Goatie, Edward, Maarkel, the two Swedish English guys and Hedi Slimane.
-------------------------------------------------------------------

Heady Sounds - Hedi Slimane Birthday Part I

Hedi Slimane's Birthday, Triptyque, Paris, 05-07-05

with: Cazals, The Paddingtons, The Others, Alan McGee and a special appearance from Pete Doherty


9p.m Dan and Luca Cazal, a Paddington guitarist, a pirate and an A&R bloke in the background (who kept wittering on about 'Chromeo's distribution') .

Dan et Luca des Cazals, un guitariste des Paddingtons, un pirate et un mec de A&R au fond qui n'arrêtait pas de parler de Chromeo.


11p.m Beer and Moët open the proceedings... However due to medication, obligations and my quirky lawyers I could not fully partake in the intoxication.

La bière et le champagne se versent à volonté...cependant à cause de ma médication, mes obligations et mes avocats je suis obligé contre mon gré à faire appel à la modération.


1a.m Martin Cazal head over bass.
Martin Cazal sur la basse...et regardez moi ces chaussures.

1:12a.m "What is more important?" I argued with my camera's focussing priority circuits "the fucking microphone or Phil Cazal?"

Je m'engueule avec mon appareil photo: "Qu'est-ce qui est plus important le micro ou Phil?"

1.33a.m This picture takes on a complete different meaning when viewed as a portrait. Cazals went down really well with everyone present...

Cette image prend une toute differente allure quand on la visionne au format portrait.

Furthered and expanded upon with sordid details from onstage and backstage in Part 2 available now(click here)...(cliquez ici pour la deuxième partie)

The Cool Cats crash Standard Party

This is rather overdue I'm afraid. Apologies to everyone especially FNY.
Ceci est très en retard. Excuses à tous spécifiquement à FNY.



Maïa (axe) and Guillaume (drums) from Le Club des Chats. Check out their seductive purrs.
Maïa (guitare) and Guillaume (batterie) from Le Club des Chats. Ecoutez leur ronronnements punk-séductifs.

Let's stop using the slo-flash now...
Arrêtons d'utiliser le slo-flash...



Standard is a rather fine magazine... check out FNY's log for more more info.
Standard est un magazine très classieux... voir le site de FNY pour plus d'infos.



It was wonderful to finally meet the mysterious FNY and to bump into Le Club des Chats again (these cats are party hard!) and Hendrik whom I also constantly bump into.

C'était un plaisir de rencontrer finalement la mystérieuse FNY et de retrouver Le Club des Chats (c'est des chats très nocturnes) et de recroiser Hendrik.

Overdue Holidays

Rural 8-bit.
8-bit rural.



Compartment Bliss.
Intimité contre Vitesse.

=====================================
Merci à G. pour ce weekend loin des Supermarchés
=====================================

No Landing Problems (corrigé)

Light, originally uploaded by jaume.badia.

Faint but insidious ambient tones accompany me down the corridor. I make for the lifts. I await for the lift doors to close in order to escape these deceptively soporific sounds. To no avail, as the sound continues inside the lift. Only in the street do I exit the suspended animation.

Des tonalités fades mais insidieuses m'accompagnent tout le long du couloir vers les ascenseurs. J'attend que les portes de l'ascenseur se ferment pour pouvoir échapper ces sons léthargiques. Mais c'est inutile, la musique continue sans effort dans l'ascenseur. Seulement une fois sur le trotoir, le bruit de rue me réveille.

Lawrence Wasser avale Paris sans même ouvrir la bouche (corrigé)

Lawrence Wasser jouent le Point FMR le 9 juillet 2005



Avant eux, un groupe à chanteuse chantait devant des gens qui ne savaient pas pour quoi ils étaient là exactement. Ne pouvant plus supporter les 'warblings' proprets de la chanteuse et les guitares soporifiques à chier, j'ai parachuté d'urgence.

Au rétour, le malaise musical parisien avait disparu. En lieu, la cage à radiateur, la parabole orange et le Korg Poly (je suppose) annonçait Lawrence Wasser. Poseurs parisiens... run for your worthless ennui! ou sinon Lawrence Wasser pulvérisera toutes vos franges avec leur primo-disco.

Lawrence, Gratschen, J-D et al. ne montent pas sur scène, ils apparaissent. Lawrence avec un pull à paillettes sliver et des chaussures laqués noires et blanches. Le guitariste en chemise-cravate couleur vieux sang et chaussettes noires, le bassiste avec pantalons courts et bottes armés et Gratschen en top à paillettes aussi et jupe.

Sans avertissement inutile ils s'élancent dans les guitares martiales et sans répit de "Out". C'est la troisième fois maintenant que je l'entends sur scène. La première fois à la Soundstation (Liège) cette chanson n'était qu'un bloc de ciment brut qui détronchait la foule entière. Plus tard aux Voûtes (Paris), le rythme était plus présent mais si tu dansais tu te déchirais au contact des guitares rasoir. Maintenant au Point FMR ils ont atteint l'impossible en attachant des détails à guitare et des rythmiques concrètes à côté de la bête principale.

"Cream" vient après et toujours si jouissif: course poursuite à guitare par des ruelles aux égouts fumants et aux briques noircies, freinages à cymbales remplissantes et c'est la basse qui est à leurs trousses !!

"The Cab" et "Ah!" se suivent je ne sais dans quel ordre... l'une toujours aussi 'high plains disco' avec ses harmoniques envolées et l'autre aussi mariachi avec son segment de délectation abrasive. "Ah!" c'est la première fois que je l'entends en vif et elle est parfaite comme un chien l'écume à la bouche prêt à me mordre.

Le synthé de Gratschen devient de plus en plus essentiel, non seulement pour les nappes tueuses mais là elle commence à l'utiliser très efficacement pour augmenter les rythmes avec des cris au filtre, non sans rappeler Les Georges Leningrad.

Ce soir nous avons été gâtés. Je crois qu'il y a eu au moins un morceau inédit et plusieurs déclinaisons entre les morceaux. Permettez moi d'expliquer cette dernière idée: Entre chansons LW ont l'habitude de reprendre certaines parties d'un morceau et de, par exemple, jouer la ligne principale sur la basse au lieu de la guitare ou de changer certains réflexes de rythme. Ces intermissions donnent aux concerts de Lawrence Wasser une vocation expérimentale et par conséquent une raison d’être en constante évolution.

Hair Stroke

More pictures and narrative from Hedi Slimane's Birthday Coming Soon.
Plus de détails et images de l'anniversaire de Hedi Slimane prochainement.

Attack of the Cazals Brigade

Cazals play Alternation in Paris on the 17th June 2005
Cazals jouent à Alternation le 17 juin 2005



Cazals (not THE Cazals-very important) deliver the purest rock 'n' roll experience (with guitars et al.) that I have seen in quite a while.

Now, please do not misunderstand the above statement. These past few months I have experienced: masked disco, euphoria, stadium in a T.V studio and post-enjoyment in a stadium. All as valuable as each other but very dissimilar from a pure rock 'n' roll experience.

Cazals take the stage with swagger and bravado but without second thoughts, as if they were taking a street corner back in London. They start playing without warning, when the crowd is expectant but not yet at fever pitch. Consequently, when the stick hits the drum, when the finger slaps the bass and the hand clasps the mike... you can imagine the response.

They introduce themselves with a sideways sentence into a mike after Poor Innocent Boys : 'Hi we're Cazals' . Let's quickly come back to the missing 'the'. Why on earth did they decide drop it from their name? I imagine it's for the same reason that James Joyce chose to call his early collection of short stories "Dubliners" and not The Dubliners. There is a sort of humble self-assurance in Cazals that makes the defining article completely superfluous. In a way it is linked to how they started the gig and how then played on so effortlessly, completely oblivious to the fact that they were playing in public.

May be that is just it, it didn't feel like a gig. There was none of that infuriating retro-rock ritual we have now come to expect from so many bands. Yet the mood is difficult to pinpoint. The ease with which they played was not of an indifferent nature, it paradoxically made them more involved in the music. In fact, I get the impression that the crowd felt redundant. The band was so caught up with the music that they didn't need to be cheered or heckled. Any attempt to re-enact ritualistic audience response fell flat on its rosy arse.

Then there was also a song supposedly about Phil and Dan (guitar), preceded by hurried and hushed discussion amongst band members. It's a slower track, that still retains all the tension from the others. Dan has this habit that I love; in some songs he works the spaces by thumping the back of his guitar and creating imptomptu squalls. I imagine that since his guitar parts are so tight, he must require some sort of release.

And how could we forget, their utterly magnificent cover of Spandau Ballet's 'To Cut A Long Story Short'. From the first few guitar licks, I was sobbing with my gob wide open. The cold poignancy of the orginal remained intact as guitar riffs interwove and the offbeat rimshots were all there to relieve the tension. The last time I cried on the dancefloor was two years ago in Geneva when DMX Krew played "The Glass Room", his Hi-NRG teary vocoder lament. The fact that Cazals made me cry without a single synth proves that they amazingly managed to retain the essence of the original, and that is no mean feat because guitars have never before made me cry.

This is indeed a momentous day, the day when Rock 'n' Roll lost its 'the'.

Pre-Scriptum: Walk into the patio, playful chat with the girls at the till. Take the wrong entrance and bump into Phil Cazal (lead vocals), say that I enjoyed their video on the Trash website. He smiles, slice is nice. He turns to a familiar but self-effacing fellow to my right who is wearing a dandy scarf and a NASA T-shirt. I immediately approve noddingly and break off for the main event only to find DD and G already at the front. The stage rides low, the set-up simple and the soundcheck ramshackle. The man in the NASA T-shirt appears in my periphereal gaze.

Post-Scriptum: As I walk out into the lamplight with DD and G, I spot a sleek jet black sports car under some trees, a uniformed man waiting inside. Then I make the connection with the dapper scarfed fellow with the NASA T-Shirt.

20 Minutes to Live (corrigé)

Everyone is reading the free newspapers distributed every morning in front of the subway station. The person behind me has even picked up two copies. The key to their success is, like for most things these days, blandness.

Take the writing style: inclusive, concerned but non-polemical, non-confrontational and politically correct. It is the same type of writing you find in local newspapers. Here however it is applied to everything from international affairs to film reviews.

The lady next to me has just asked her neighbour if she could borrow her copy when she had finished. Don't blame her, she needs her daily dose. New stop: another middle-aged woman sits opposite me with her crisp copy of the same newspaper.(*)

All these people are on their way to work. They need to occupy their time without occupying their mind. They don't listen to music or read literature, so they pick up the first thing that falls free into their hands. Need I over-emphasize, these people are going to work. They don't want to be challenged by what they read. Hell, most of them haven't had their morning coffee. They just want some gentle facts and non-descript opinions to regurgitate in pleasant and polite conversation with colleagues at work and friends and family outside.

Though the tone is bland something is afoot, lurking in the depths as it were. This has very much to do with tone and language; a sort of affected concern for an affected propriety, a bland decorum rooted in the consensual nature of our material society. I call it New Utilitarianism. Dickens would probably agree with me too.

(*)Suddenly, I notice something downright terrifying. The lady who had already read her copy and passed it on to my neighbour is now eyeing the newcomer's copy as if she hadn't read her own copy. They can't get enough of it. Talk about eradicating inner city drug culture, I feel as if I am in a crackhouse. I am not safe here. If tomorrow these same newspapers publish orders to kill anyone who dislikes the film 'Amélie'... I will be eaten alive by these very same commuters.

20 Minutes pour mourir

Tout le monde lit les journaux gratuits distribués à l’entrée des gares de métro et de RER. La personne derrière moi en a même pris deux. La clef de leur succès, comme tout maintenant, une douceur fade.

Prenons le style d’écriture : accessible, préoccupé sans être polémique et politiquement correct. C’est le même type d’écriture que l’on retrouve dans les journaux locaux. Cependant ici elle est étendue à tous les articles, qu’ils traitent d’actualité internationale où de cinéma il n'y a plus de difference.

La dame à côté de moi vient de demander à sa voisine si elle pourrait lire sa copie une fois que cette dernière ait finie. Elle n’est pas coupable, elle a juste besoin de sa dose diurne. Un autre arrêt : une autre dame s’assied devant moi et commence à feuilleter sa copie neuve du même journal.(*)

Tous ces gens vont travailler. Ils ont besoin d’occuper leur temps mais pas leur esprit. Ils n’écoutent pas de musique et ils ne lisent pas non plus. Alors, ils prennent la première chose gratuite qui leur tombe dans leur main. Faut il que je souligne que ces gens vont travailler. Ils ne veulent pas être défiés par ce qu’ils lisent. En fait la plus part n’on sans doute même pas bu leur premier café. Ils veulent juste quelques informations et opinions sans épines qu’ils pourront régurgiter dans leurs conversations agréables et polies avec leurs collègues et leurs familles.

Même si le ton et doux et fade, il y a quelque chose d’inquiétant qui se remue dans les profondeurs sémantiques. C’est une question de ton et de langage : une sorte de souci affecté pour une convenance affectée, un décorum doux enraciné dans la nature consensuelle de la société. Je nomme cela ‘New Utilitarianism’ et Dickens serait sans doute de mon avis aussi.

(*) Je viens de voir une chose horrible: la femme qui avait cédé sa copie déjà-lue est en train de regarder celle de sa nouvelle voisine, comme si elle ne l'avait jamais lue. Elle en a besoin.

Je ne me sens pas sûr ici. Imaginons que ces mêmes journaux ordonnaient de tuer toute personne qui exècre le film 'Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain' ... ces gens pourraient me tuer sans aucun remords et sans doute sans aucun souvenir.

Seagulls & Monster Trucks

Ace Pilot of Dover.
Pilote entre l'acier de Douvres.


"The Cowley Thrasher"
Cowley est la rue longue au sud d'Oxford. Avec le légendaire UPP, cinéma au bord de la ruine mais qui persiste toujours.


Fishnets and Pimm's at Jude the Obscure in Jericho.
Un combo imbattable. Dommage pour l'héritage.

Mortarboard not pictured here.

Le carré noir ne sera pas affiché ici.

Transgressor

It was a special occasion.
C'est maintenant ou jamais.

Offline Week

This week I'm drifting elsewhere.

C'est la semaine de l'offline. En hibernation les premiers jours, en observation le reste du temps. Les activités reprendront in due course.

Cross-Country Bussing

10 hour race. 3 Drivers. Bus and Ferry crossing

Fuel (non-exhaustive)

1x Sandwich (Spam Salad)
1x 50cl bottle of Yorkshire water.
4x Friendly choc-chip biscuits.
1x Friendly cherry.

1x Discussion on the Education System with seat neighbour
1x Discussion about Cities and moving around.
1x Show provided by kid in front.
200x photographs.

10h de course. 3 conducteurs sur deux véhicules. Abordage et passage sur un ferry.

Fioul-Oil (non-exhaustif)

1x Sandwich jambon funeste et salade silencieuse.
1x Bouteille d'eau minerale du Yorkshire.
4x Biscuits amicaux au pépites de chocolat.
1x Cerise amicale.

1x Discussion sur l'Éducation avec le voisin de passage.
1x Discussion sur les Villes et les déplacements.
1x Spectacle improvisé par l'enfant de devant.
200x photos prises.
1x Prieres Americaines, ed. Vincent Pecoil, Les Presses du Reel, 2002. (ISBN2-84066-068-7)

Electrocute thrash the jackpot! (II)

Electrocute - Nouveau Casino, Paris - 18/04/05
Part 2: Burnout Fever



Tyre marks

Nicole:

"Born in San Francisco during an earthquake. Raised in Albuquerque (New Mexico) in the middle of nowhere… in the mountains. High School in Albuquerque. Then Austin Texas: Bar tender, waitress life for a year and started a band with some girls. Met another band called the Golden Showers at my doorstep who were half German. They took me to Berlin the first time. Went back to the States with them lived in New York. Played 2 years around New York with the Golden Showers and toured the States and Europe. [Laughing] Succesfully ran away from New York to New Orleans. On the run and stayed in New Orleans for about a year and a half and then President Bush took office and we went to Berlin. Left America, and I’ve been in Berlin for 4 years. I know I sound old but I’m only 28."



Holly:

"Raised in Tennessee. Went to Berlin as an exchange student. 16 fell in love with Berlin. Went back to Tennessee. Then moved back to Berlin again at 18. Then moved to DC where I studied fine arts. Then I moved back to Berlin again and I started an electro-band that didn’t work out. And then Nicole asked me to join Electrocute. "



50's Americana

"Holly: You gotta like something about America. Might as well take the shiny part. "

"Nicole: That’s really jaded. [laughs]. I dunno, I like glamour. When I was in New Orleans I was really fond of it because all this burlesque and really amazing girls all dressed up and I worked at a store where they sold wigs and make up. And all the drag queens would come in there and I kinda got into wearing fake eyelashes. Just being glamorous and like kind of an exaggerated woman or something. Sometimes when I dress up I feel like a drag queen. Basically, like the way a guy would take the role of a woman and exaggerate it. So I mean its not a necessity for us either but its just fun and just things that sparkle and when you’re doing show-business; part of it is getting dressed up… "



Instrumental Update

About her Fender Mustang:

N: "Oh I just wrote that on there [website] to be kitschy. The guitar is special itself. It’s from 1961 and it’s very rare, it’s the blue colour jade or whatever, I don’t know what they call it. It’s the most rare. It’s the first guitar that I really felt ‘oh now I know how to play’ all of a sudden. Like I had all these bashed up guitars and traded everything I owned in for that guitar. It’s been the one sentimental guitar that I’ve had. So I like it."



On the sickly Novation Bass Station

"H: Kaput
N: Kaput
H: Actually it’s with Stereo Total
N: They took it back.
H:(screams) they stole it !
H: I have the Korg Sequencer now and a little sampler."

To Be Furthered...

First Part - Click Here