torture in my heart

it's that time again duckies for a shameful linger in the murk of dansey place or perhaps a nice furtive lurk in the shadows of piccadilly arches. or jimmy somerville in trafalgar square if you're that way inclined. me i''l be saluting brigadistas and then getting overexcited about being in the same room as the second man on the moon. but i'll be thinking of you.


johnnie ray - just walking in the rain

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remember

saturday the 4th of july jubilee gardens on the southbank one o'clock that's where you'll find me getting all lip trembley and fist clenchy and international brigadesy. do come along if you like a bit of commemorating.

pat kelly - try to remember




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you're a gas gas gas

and while we're moaning were's my bloomin' gasometers my beautiful back of kings cross ladykillers gasometers my flipping listed gasometers that were somehow allowed to be pulled down and packed up pretending they're going to be put back sometime somewhere probably just as some abominable cladding to some horrible posh flats you bastards ? i despair. i mean everyone loves a gasometer and the one that's left looks all sad and lost and lonely now no-ones waving at it from the rooftops of battlebridge road or having a good old gawp through the camley street nature corner bushes. please mister can we have our gasometers back ?




barbara lewis - don't forget about me

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your britain. fight for it now

nothing's too good for ordinary people the gent that built my health centre said all proud and progressive and pinko and gee how it swelled our little hearts all that light and all those curves all that modernist ambition turning us all sparkling and special and extraordinary even when we were poorly sick and rotten. too extraordinary obviously for our glorious leaders who've decided that nothing's too good for private developers and we can have that bit next door that old scout hut thing and damn well remember our goddamn place.









rant and rage sulk and tut

ruby and the romantics - your baby doesn't love you anymore

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save finsbury health centre

do it the bs&t way

i'm off down the pioneer shop - see you there

blood sweat and tears - i can't move no mountain

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what a performance

these days dears i'm pretty darned good at the no regrets wouldn't change a thing thing apart from the occasional flashback of shoddy skincare regimes and not being the evil impresario beat svengali larry parnes calling their turns vince eager and dickie pride and ruling a stable of stars with a rod of iron but the you do what you want while i sit on coaches to norwich be incredibly useless and gradually lose interest sort of record label big wig variety. it'd've been for their own good and all. we'd all've been happy. i'd be smooth and flawless if nothing else.

that was a dreadfully roundabout way of waving yooohoooo dearie to the launch of the BOB depository now at the
house of teeth and oh gee don't that video make ya feel good (and twirly)

some more rare treats to get you in the mood

bob - it was kevin (demo)

bob - what a performance (demo)

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everyone's a winner

i won something. really. after all these years i really won a real prize. by default obviously but we don't mention that (default! default!). and oh what a prize what a glorious shining beauty of a prize. it's only a vic godard session from 1986 oh yes yes yes. ta ever so mr your heart out.

and while we're at it ta ever so mr your heart out for giving us stuff we can read on bits of paper again. it's a good thing. gathering the bits out of the printer and lovingly stapling it all together to be taken for a sly half down the blue posts is a pleasure i heartily recommend. i'll see you down there.

vic godard gary crowley show session march 1986

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the photograph is by everyone's favourite i like