I WISH I WAS THE HIP PRIEST... ah....

I always had a soft spot for The Fall, but it's only in the last year or so that I've decided it's time to really investigate the HIP PRIEST and his merry clergy. Trawling through their catalogue is an intimidating prospect, what with 50+ albums to their credit; it's the main reason I didn't hit them up before - where to start and shit, where to stop??
My official Fall cherry-popper was "Palace Of Swords Reversed", an excellent example of early MES's bile and lyrical fuckkn genius. I play this record at least three or four times a week (much to the chagrin of my WERK collegues, fukkem) and I can't imagine ever getting bored of it. Next was "Extricate", "This Nation's Saving Grace", "Hex Induction Hour", "Grotesque", "I Am Kurious Oranj" and the latest find is their first: "Live At The Witch Trials". Crackers, every bloody one of them.
Which is why I wish I was Mark E Smith.
Sure, he was bashed profusely with the ugly stick at birth but this man's genius and his bottomless well of bile is just jaw dropping... He was John (RIP) Peel's DUDE, he's sacked more band members than I've had chicken schnitzels and he's married to one of the most beautiful women in rock (who plays keys in the latest line up). Fuck him, bastard.
He OWNS me now.
He will OWN you too, ladies and gents.
I think there should be a FALL tribute night thingy here in Adelaide, like one of those wack FOWLER's LIVE DAVID BOWIE nights or whatever. Imagine the fruits that would come out of the closet for that. It would be AWESOME.

howzat!

not to be a dyed in the wool rose coloured glasses ticket holder... but these were the days.
weren't they?
bring back the mo, bring back the fun.

day one: railway bluez

OI? whatryalookinat?
xxx

A NEW BEGINNING

This is what I must have felt like on New Year's Day '06... Unable to be anything else but vague and with a real bad taste in my mouth. The last thing I remember from the night before is a serious yakking session into a plastic bag in Adrienne's car.
Nice, don't you think?
Oh well, there's a lot of year left in 2006, so I'm sure things will be on the up and up from here.
Anyway - that pohdo was taken in 2004, pre-empting Slaughter and I's face-off. There's Bucko Palace in the background, and despite the beanie and scarf, it was a spring day and quite nice - it got much better in fact. I remember the sun coming out and due to a heavy night, I was in need of some sweet, sweet kip and feeling rather worse for wear. It had something to do with the hash I smoked from these two Iranian backpackers who didn't speak a word of English...anyway.
I splayed out on a slight slope in St James Park, resting my eyes for a half hour or three. Nothing could've been better, the English sun on my face, the cool grass beneath me and a sense of peace and belonging... truly one of my favourite slices of life ever.
I was awoken by this beggar:

Chewing at my feet.
DAMNED CUTE!
Shout out to Slaughter for keeping the squirrel flame alive...

We gotta get bakk over there...