It's fairly straight forward to start then...cucucucucumber. Ha.
Treepeople was Doug Martsch band before Built to Spill (it's perhaps an indictment against the lo-fi/indie/whatever scene of the 90's that Built to Spill was as popular as they were).
One for the careful readers. :)
As usual it's squal that matters with Dinosaur Jr.
What follows is C's fault...for posting the bit about Suede.
This is the Londoner Grill in Baton Rouge, Louisiana on Sherwood Forest Blvd. across from the Celtic Center. I took this photo while I was staying in Denham Springs because I had business in Scotlandville.
Last night I found my self watching Live Forever: The Rise and Fall of Britpop...for like the sixth time. It weren't any better this time than it was the other five. I'm just easily distracted...easily amused and obsessive. So there you are. I was trying to find a clip of Suede's performance at the Brit Awards in 93....Animal Nitrate. It's been blocked on You Tube by BPI but, I thought I had seen it in Live Forever. I was wrong. In fact, Suede are given pretty short shrift...reduced in significance to a magazine cover. The film ought to be called Live Forever: The Rise and Fall of Oasis and Some Other Bands that Owe Their Existence to James Brown (the puffed up editor of Loaded magazine, not Macon, Georgia's own God Father of Soul).
They could just have easily called it How the Idea of America Manipulates the British Pop Psyche.
For our purposes the discussion begins with Jon Savage...
"The Pendulum (in the early 90's) had swung back to America. There's always this tic-toc, tic-toc, between the U.S. and the U.K. At least in the U.K. Often in America they don't give a toss about what's going on in the U.K."
And continues in part two...
(the usual warning about language when hearing from with these potty mouths)
The Elephant in the Room or How Americans Will Dance to Anything by Day-Pesh-Kamode
e.f. bartlam
To my mind, some obvious questions arise in those passages from Live Forever. We're gonna get 'em sorted out...sussed if you like. None of them has to do with the sentiment of resentment toward American culture expressed by Jon Savage, James Brown, et al. as a matter of historical fact. Besides you can't argue with sentiment...sentiment just is. What we will try to do is address certain issues...one, what is American Culture? That might seem an impossible question to answer in a few paragraphs. It's not. Believe me it's doable. We'll talk about Budweiser.
Two, what does it actually mean to "Make it in America?" This seems to be a recurring issue with certain bands or elements of the British music papers. We may not be able to come up with a definitive answer to that question but, I think we can add emphasis to elements of it that are often overlooked. We'll listen to Band of Skulls do a Ford commercial (we may have to digress at this point and explain that Ford is not actually a British car maker).
Three, is it true that Americans don't normally give a toss about what goes on in British popular culture? I think by answering the first two question it will become obvious that Americans do...that Britain wields a tremendous influence in America. It's not exactly the same as wielding influence over the culture but, it's pretty hard to shape something that barely exists...and to the extent that it does exist, does so under extremely rigid parameters. /
Here is where I should say something about football...just to irritate Kibber but, one of the reasons I'm hiding this post in ridiculous, pretentious "fancy dress" is that there is no football right now and I'm bored out of my freaking mind.
Go Gators...six months from now.
I should also say a word about terminology. Those of you who read this blog know that I have no allegiance to this ridiculous notion of America (me and Spliff call it The Imperial Construct of America)...I'm a Southron and y'all know this. Making that distinction is not necessary, except where it is necessary, in the following discussion. So enjoy the rare instance where I will be including myself, and my people, among these other ragamuffins.
Also, also...we should get Canada out of the way before proceeding. We are honored to have, here at Flimsy Cups, Canada's greatest export..Spliff (aka Dread Pirate Jessica). You can read her thoughts and, if you're lucky, interact with her here on these pages. Nothing more need be said about that.
To be continued...
Cleveland, Mississippi
I know Adamparsons...red phone booths and double-decker buses. We're dealing, to a certain extent, in generalizations and stereotypes. Don't get your Bowler in a bunch. Go eat a crumpet and settle it down.
This place was spared in 1912 when my Great Grandparents, Fredrick and Martha (nee Hearnshaw) Bartlam, boarded a ship for America. In a round about...very very round...way we recently got hold of some genealogy information. The Bartlams have evidently been in and around Birmingham for a long time...Deritend (lots of youngins born here), Inkley...Hinkley. My great grand parents hung around long enough to get married at the Parish Church in Balshall Heath. After coming over here, Fredrick sorta went back when he signed up in Canada to fight in the First World War. There's some fighters in there...but, not too many of us have fought for the U.S. There's a John Bartlam that came to South Carolina, from the same area in Birmingham, during the late 18th century. He was a Loyalist killed by rebels during battle in the American War of Independence. My Daddy's maternal family (Garbetts) seems to have been in Georgia for almost as long as the Bartlams have been in Birmingham...around Quitman. My Daddy was born in a house there on family property. It's weird to be reading along and see my Grandmother's place of death as Jackson, Mississippi...even stranger to read that she had a brother who died in Louisiana. Turns out my Great Great Grandmother was either from Louisiana or Mississippi. Best of all we've been able to pin down family units in the War Between the States. Erasmus D. Garbett, Sergeant F company, 6th Florida Infantry. Samuel Garbett was there with him. Lots of cavalry Troopers in Florida too...2nd Cav. Lots of names...Catledge, Collins, Wesley, Smith, Green, Bailey... Anyway...if y'all can tell me about Kings Norton and Deritend...I'll tell you all about Cherry Lake and Quitman, Gerogia.
It's funny how the internet works. A woman in Brighton, England..the author of an outstanding blog*...made my supper plans for me on Monday night.**
That afternoon, I was on my way down to the Coast...
I stopped in Magee to have a cup of coffee and kill some time on the blogger. When I got into my account I saw that she had a new post...another installment on her recent trip to California. During this particular leg she had finally gotten to eat something she had only heard about...pulled pork.
Normally when I'm down there I get a pizza from Newk's or a cheeseburger from Five Guys and take it back to the room...watch Law and Order reruns...like clockwork. Not that night. Once the notion of pulled pork had been put into my head the only way I was gonna get it out was to eat some.
Lucky for me I'd be in D'iberville about 10 miles from Vancleave and this place
The Shed.
A ramshackle collection of buildings right off of Exit 57 on I-10 at the gate of a campgrounds...where they smoke hog and the wallpaper's green.
The decor has almost reached the point of parody...almost. It's not a gag but, it's not really a country grocery either. Somebody's playin' a g'itar there most nights but, it's not the next Asie Payton. The place has been on T.V and they have a handful of locations now.
If the food wasn't good it would be a joke but, the food is good...
The pork's got just enough of texture for you to put your teeth on it right before it melts into smokey butter. And that flippin potato salad is lights OUT...like Corkey's without the bacon.
I've had better I reckon...Ubons comes to mind and Full Moon in Hoover, Alabama is my favorite (sadly the Tuscaloosa location was erased during last months Godzilla attack) but it definitely rates.
It's like I'm afraid somebody's gonna try and take it.
Thanks ISBW...the meal was delicious.***
*The Blog is ishouldbeworking...and you should be reading it. I don't know how to do links but it's in my reading list. It's fantastic.
**I should also point out that Adam in Lancaster has..if you add it all up...has cost me about a weeks worth of work hours with his internet obstanence.
***I realize it's a little wacky to unpack things like this...I have analytical issues. Just be glad you aren't in my mind, along for the ride as I'm reading these nonsensical had written signs at restaurants all day....more on this later.
In the continuing effort to smarten up The Sisters poncey tea party (and to keep her from running her friends off with Level 42 and Simply Red) we offer the 80's UK side...
Side: Ponce
1. Tainted Love - Soft Cell
2. It's My Life - Talk Talk
3. Love Plus One - Haircut 100
4. Rio - Duran Duran
Should Be...
That **** is WIZARD!
5. Material Girl - Madonna
Her moment...all down hill from that point on.
That's where I'd sleep when I would visit...right across the street from Kings Cross Station. It was run by a sweet old Maltese lady. She had passed away the last time I was around.
There was a Kentucky Fried Chicken around corner...and it was the setting for a very funny story involving Martha and her love of mashed potatoes...and a gigantic woman passed out on the counter.
It was supposed to be A Room for Romeo Brass, but evidently Netflix has never heard of it. Then I tried for Once Upon a Time in the Midlands...that one isn't available instantly. So I settled on Somers Town. I was a little hesitant because one the characters is an immigrant. Nothing against immigrants, but that's a pretty constant theme in American movies...and well y'all know where my head is right now. I needn't have worried.
It's a funny and sweet movie...and Thomas Tugoose is just good that's all. There's no irony or bite...just two kids becoming friends and crushing on a French waitress.*
"It's called love suuhhn."
As good as it was forget about that for a minute...and think about The Damned United.
FANTASTIC!
I'm not much of a soccer fan...or football if you must...how 'bout Association Football as a compromise? I don't know...y'all just follwo the context. It'll probably mark me out as a nuckle-dragging philistine and someone who is incapable of understanding the beautiful game but...it's the off-sides rule...well that and the fact that there's none of this...
(the audio is atrocious turn it down...but hits so hard the camera can't keep up with some of them)...unless maybe you're talkin' about Leeds in the early 70's.
I think Rugby's probably more my speed.
Anyway, I do appreciate soccer and what it means to people...particularly English football. And I do love sports...especially sports that have a century's worth of stink on them from carrying the hopes and identities of communities on their back. That I do love...that's authenticity and English Football reeks of it. So while I may not clear the calender for Man U. v Liverpool I'd delightfully gobble up a history on the rivalry if anybody wants to send me one.
When The Damned United came up as a suggestion I didn't hesitate...man what a story, what a character...
The other thing it had going for it is that College Football is dominated by coaches...it's a coaches game. They are heralded and blamed for every success and failure a team has. The firing and hiring of these coaches are usually played out with Shakespearean drama..and intrigue. As with everything in college football, nowhere is this more the case than in the SEC. Coaches leave professional teams to coach in the Southeastern Conference...that's how much it means. They become the program..for better or worse...and by extension the face of a State or a Region and take on all the responsibility that comes with it...and with the appropriately outsized egos. Their names are historical and cultural touchstones...Bear Bryant, General Neyland, Shug Jordan, Vince Dooley, and Steve Spurrier (the Brian Clough of the SEC)...just to name a few.
So the psychology of the story was familiar to me and completely sucked me in. The film handled this man, who had greatness in him but who got a little carried away, with the perfect pitch. I genuinely liked him and was mad at him for making a butthead of himself...I didn't feel like he was a jerk, but that he should know better. Quite a feat considering I'd only just met him 20 minutes earlier.
Maybe I'm biased now, but Bobby Bowden...I mean Don Revie and his dirty football team can kiss my grits.
As an aside...when I do come back to England...I'm going to Yorkshire. Yorkshire in the early 70's...and Deep Purple's gonna blare everywhere I swagger.
*It was an unbridled joy after trying to watch that atrocious Kiduldthood. How many times does this movie have to be made before it's seen for precisely what it is...tawdry titillation.
On the suggestion of a reader here (flick) I watched Dead Man's Shoes this weekend.
Fantastic. It's a Revenge Flick and a Slasher film...and just campy enough...it's a lot of things. The perspective it forces on the viewer makes for a different experience. Your set against the victims...it's like rooting for Jason against the camp councilors (if you weren't already)...except not entirely. Most of the film you don't really know why he's being quite as vicious as he is...like Lady Snowblood without the first 15 minutes.
It is gory, but considering what it is...no more than you'd expect. I thought it was pretty clever and just a good movie movie. The way Tarentino's films are.
My only complaint was the doctored grainy footage for the kid's flashbacks...it was doctored to almost a comical extent. That's minor.
Thanks for the heads up.
Then there was Fish Tank. What a flippin' movie..or what a story on film. Unlike Dead Man's this one wasn't a movie movie, but excellent none the less. It's southern squalor this time around. Though I do wonder about some of the reviews I read that were little more than hand wringing about poverty. Get out a little more...a lot of people live that way and worse...ever heard of west Yorkshire :). She wasn't missin' any meals...and her track suits cost "20 quid" OK? Her tart of a momma had enough bread to throw parties for her drunk friends.
There was also a lot about her being full of rage. As if it was indiscriminate or misplaced. She had **** to be angry about. Those skanks in the park.
She had a tough row to hoe and suffered some hard embarrassing lessons...but being 15 is pretty embarrassing anyway. I think she handle the situation about as well as you'd expect from a kid (what she did that scumbag's front room carpet was well deserved)...if the little girl had drowned the whole thing would have come undone. The bit with the horse...man I just really liked the movie that's all.
I had a lot of hope for her when it was over.
I'm prone to tangents so the UK film fest may continue for a while.
One of the biggest distractions to my writing this weekend was the Netflix that Martha got me. I probably would have been done on Friday if she hadn't signed me up for it.
Among other things, I watched the Red Riding Trilogy over Saturday and Sunday. It sucked. A lot of it was obvious...
"We can just go luv...we'll go south and never come back. You get yer stuff together while I go across town to get mine and when I come back"...she'll be murdered dead...Duh. Or when the lead investigator is invited down to the basement by his loyal buddy, who seems to be the only other straight cop in Yorkshire...yeah he shot him.
The only likeable character in all three movies was the lawyer Pigot. A drunk slob with a great collection of soul records. He and his Soul Music don't show up til the third film.
The twenty something murders, including children, that occur across the span of 10 years and three moview are slmost an after thought...until the last ten minutes of the third movie. The real villian of the film seems to be The North of England.
Everybody lives in squalor, is a sex-pervert (wierdest moment on film...the medium seduces the cop by describing in hushed tones what the missing girl is going through...say what? ), or retarded, or insane, unless they're an utterly corrupt and vile business man who uses the sadistic, racist police force as his own personal army. Thier motto..."To the North. Where We do What We Want!" And what they want to do is break people's hands.
The Yorkshire Ripper, once they catch him...seems almost sympathetic by comparison. The other murderer is a priest of some kind...wears a collar but nobody knows for what church (he's the kid killer...of course...more points for orginality). It's not like he did anything priestly either...he just wore a collar.
I don't know...the fella that wrote the books is from West Yorkshire. Of course some of the worst crap you'll read about The South comes from our own neighbors*...see the aforementioned Donna Ladd, but even she doesn't deny the music, the food and SEC Football. Maybe I'm readin' it wrong...I do live half way round the world. It still sucked either way.
*Be on the lookout for The Help. I've already read a couple of reviews on the blogs that report this book gives a real glimpse into race and class relations in The South and especially Mississippi...uh huh, or maybe it's a glimpse into the mind of warped woman that will lie and trample those close to her in order to tell people what they want to hear and make a buck.
This place was spared in 1912 when my Great Grandparents, Fredrick and Martha (nee Hearnshaw) Bartlam, boarded a ship for America. In a round about...very very round...way we recently got hold of some genealogy information. The Bartlams have evidently been in and around Birmingham for a long time...Deritend (lots of youngins born here), Inkley...Hinkley. My great grand parents hung around long enough to get married at the Parish Church in Balshall Heath. After coming over here, Fredrick sorta went back when he signed up in Canada to fight in the First World War. There's some fighters in there...but, not too many of us have fought for the U.S. There's a John Bartlam that came to South Carolina, from the same area in Birmingham, during the late 18th century. He was a Loyalist killed by rebels during battle in the American War of Independence. My Daddy's maternal family (Garbetts) seems to have been in Georgia for almost as long as the Bartlams have been in Birmingham...around Quitman. My Daddy was born in a house there on family property. It's weird to be reading along and see my Grandmother's place of death as Jackson, Mississippi...even stranger to read that she had a brother who died in Louisiana. Turns out my Great Great Grandmother was either from Louisiana or Mississippi. Best of all we've been able to pin down family units in the War Between the States. 
Erasmus D. Garbett, Sergeant F company, 6th Florida Infantry. Samuel Garbett was there with him. Lots of cavalry Troopers in Florida too...2nd Cav. Lots of names...Catledge, Collins, Wesley, Smith, Green, Bailey... Anyway...if y'all can tell me about Kings Norton and Deritend...I'll tell you all about Cherry Lake and Quitman, Gerogia.
