POEM - The Witch Doctor & The Monkey Puzzle

THE WITCH DOCTOR STARED AT THE MONKEY PUZZLE
EACH INTRICATE PIECE CAUSING CONFUSION.
WHERE WAS THE STRONG SOUL HE KNEW BEFORE?
WHERE WAS THE PHYSIQUE HE RECOGNISED?
THIS WAS NOT THE SAME MONKEY PUZZLE,
THIS WAS A BREATHING CORPSE
A FRAGILE GHOST LOOKING FOR AN EXORCISM.
A PALE IMITATION OF A ONCE GREAT LIFE,
REDUCED TO A HUSK STUFFED WITH WIRES
BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP
A REGIMENTAL SIGH.
PINK BLUSHING SKIN NOW DUSTY
A DEATHLY WHITENESS
LIKE SNOW WITHOUT THE MAGIC
A SOURED MILK RANKLY STINKING.
IT’S AN EMPTY PLOT LOOKING FOR A TOMBSTONE.
THE LIGHT GOES OUT
THE ROOM IS EMPTY
YET THE SHELL IS STILL THERE.
EMPTY, COLD, LIFELESS – AND THAT IS JUST THOSE LEFT BEHIND.

POEM - Asleep

TIRED MAN TURNS UP HIS COLLAR
LOOKS OUT ONTO THE LONELY ROAD
WATCHES THE NEON REFLECTION DANCE IN THE RAIN
AN H2O SYMPHONY FROM HEAVEN ONTO HELL.
RUSTY AND OLD
A BUS SPEEDS PAST
GERIATRIC RAISES HIS STICK AND YELLS EMPTY THREATS AT THE SOON GONE DRIVER
LOOKING RUSTIER AND OLDER THAN THE VEHICLE EVER COULD.
TIRED MAN TRIES TO LIGHT A CIGARETTE
HUNCHED INTO A DOORWAY
HAND OVER THE LUCKY STRIKE TO CHASE THE WIND AWAY.
NO GOOD
HE TOSSES IT INTO THE AIR
SPITS WITH DISTAIN WHERE IT LANDS AT HIS FEET
SWEARS QUIETLY UNDER HIS BREATH
CURSING, CURSING.
CHECKS HIS WATCH
IT’S TOO EARLY TO SLEEP BUT TOO LATE TO START AGAIN
A FINAL SIGH AND HE WALKS INTO THE PATH OF A SPEEDING CAR.
METAL AGAINST SKIN
A MAUDLIN MELDING OF MAN AND MACHINE.
A FINAL LOOK UP
A FINAL BREATHE
AND THE NEON TURNS TO SEPIA
AND THE CLOCKS FINALLY STOP.

CD - Kasabian 'West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum'

I always used to hate Kasabian. At least I thought I did, I guess what I really hated was the image and the fans, both of which were too ‘man on the street’ for my liking. Oh and there’s also the fact that a lot of their work sounded like Xeroxed early Mansun b-sides, but without the intelligence.

Yet now, three albums in, it seems that the band are attempting to stretch out and grow, whilst occasionally falling back in to the ‘Poor man’s Oasis’ category that they also have had pretty much sewn up for the last few years. Opener ‘Underdog’ is a stormer, kicking in like a sledgehammer, it struts around like it owns the place and it seems the band are reaching higher than before. This soon crashes terribly with the Oasis-by-numbers of ‘Where Did All The Love Go?’ which contains lyrics that even Noel G would consider a little simplistic. The album soon picks back up though with the triple punch of ‘Swarfiga’, ‘Fast Fuse’ and ‘Take Aim’ all impressing. Then, it all goes a little bonkers (and not in a fucking Dizzee Rascal way).

‘Thick As Thieves’ sounds as if it belongs on an early Libertines session, all perfect booze-fuelled 60’s pop, brilliant. Suddenly it seems like you have no idea what’s coming next, but always pleasantly surprised. ‘West Rider Silver Bullet’ starts with an odd Ennio Morricone vibe, before turning into a big emotional epic, all big sounds and strange sound effects. Again, brilliant.

By now the memory of ‘Where…?’ has been forgotten and the album is all over the place but constantly hitting the target, whatever the target may be! So yeah, there’s probably still enough straight ahead stuff to keep the man on the street happy but now there’s a little more depth and adventure for those looking for something with a little more bite. Part of it sounds like the 60s, part of it sounds like the future. Worth checking out for sure. Just dont take fashion tips from them.

POEM - 'One'

IT WAS A LOST CAUSE
AND OF COURSE WE LOST.
TRUSTING OUR LIFE TO THE CHANCE WE NEVER HAD
WATCHING THE FACE TO SEE WHAT OUR NEXT MOVE WOULD BE.
NEVER BACKING AWAY
TROUBLE A SINGLE THROW AWAY
VIOLENCE, TWO, TOO CLOSE TO MENTION.
WE WERE UNDER THE POWER OF FATE
TOO LATE TO BACK OUT
WHATEVER IT PUT ON OUR PLATE
WHATEVER THE STAKES
WHATEVER IT TAKES.
THROUGH IT ALL
WE NEVER FALL,
NOT ONCE DOES THE TWIST COME
NOT ONCE MUST OUR FISTS COME INTO PLAY
EVERY DAY ANOTHER CHANCE
THE DANCE OF THE RANDOM
BUT ONE STANDS TALL
AND ALL IS CALM
NO HARM IS DONE
BUT FUN?
PERHAPS NOT
BUT IT’S ALL WE’D GOT.

POEM - 'The Rotten Tired Appearance Of The Heart'

BRUTAL, HATE ALL, FOETAL,
SPEAKING A LANGUAGE NOT YET TRANSLATED, NOT YET CREATED,
A SHARD OF DARKNESS IN THE LIGHT,
A PANE OF GLASS AT PAINS WITH ITSELF.
FORESAKEN AND SHAKEN UP,
A FAKE HOPE FOR THE HOPELESS,
A SHALLOW TEAR IN THE FABRIC.
A NOD THAT BECOMES A PUNCH,
THE FOUL STENCH OF THE FALLEN,
LIE DOWN AND BE COUNTED,
BE COUNTED OUT,
BRUISED AND BROKEN - BEAUTY BELIES THE BELIEVE OF THE BRAVE,
ENSLAVED INSIDE,
INSIDE THE TRUTH OF THE MIND,
NOT FAR BEHIND FROM THE END OF DAYS,
FROM THE PIERCED SCREAMING OF SOMEONE CLOSE WITH ANOTHER.
SOAKING BLOOD THROUGH THE CURTAIN OF SKIN,
DRAPED OPEN AND EXPOSED,
ENCLOSED BENEATH THE FAÇADE,
HARD AND KNOWING AND BREATHLESS.
HOLD IT IN,
TAKE A SHOT,
STOMACH REBELS,
PILLS RETURN,
LIFE FLOODS THE RESERVOIR OF DISSENT
AND JUMPS THROUGH HOOPS OF MELANCHOLY,
CHOKING THE LIFE FROM THE UNDEAD,
SAYING THANKYOU TO THE TORTURER,
TAKE A NUMBER AND STAND YOUR GROUND
AS YOU’RE BURIED BENEATH IT
AS YOU STAMMER SILENCED IN THE COCOON OF CACOPHONY,
THE MUTED MENACE OF MANY,
THROWN TO THE LIONS
TO THE LIARS,
TO THE FIRES RAGING INSIDE NOW DAMPENED BY THE DAY,
TAUNTED BY THE NIGHT,
THE EDGE PUSHED OUT TO THE MIDDLE
TO THE CENTRE OF THE HURTING MASSES,
SAY THANKYOU AGAIN FOR THE CHANCE THAT NEVER CAME
THE CLIMAX AT THE START,
THE ROTTEN TIRED APPEARANCE OF THE HEART.

POEM - 'Rebirth'

STEPPING COLDLY FROM THE ABYSS,
LOOKING DOWN AT MY BLOODIED HANDS,
CALLOUS AND CUT,
SANGUINE FROM THE STRUGGLE.
I’D SCREAM BUT THERE’S NOONE TO SCREAM TO,
I’D CRY BUT THE TEARS WONT LEAVE MY FROZEN EYES.
LOOK IN VAIN AT MY VEINS,
LOST THROUGH THE HORROR,
LOOK UP AT THE RAIN
WISHING I COULD FEEL ALIVE
OR FEEL AFRAID.

POEM - 'Die Beautiful'

REACH FOR THE RAZOR OR THE PEN?
GRAB THE DIE TO AVOID THE CHOICE,
THROW A SIX AND THE BIRO’S VICTORIOUS
A THREE MEANS THE GAME IS CUT SHORT
AND THE CUT IS PROLONGED.
DON’T CLOSE YOUR EYES AND TRY TO CHEAT THE IVORY
IT LANDS WITH A CRASH ON THE OAKEN SURFACE,
THE TRIO OF DOTS TAUNTING YOU AS IT COMES TO REST.
NO NEW TOMES WILL GET WRITTEN TONIGHT,
LEST THE COLLECTOR COMES AND SKINS ME ALIVE
SELLING MY LATEST SHORT IN ITS ORIGINAL PRESSING,
WHICH MAY LACK BEAUTY ON THE SHELF
- BUT BEAUTY FOLDS TO UGLINESS, INTO ITSELF.

POEM - 'The Body's Decay'

SLAVERY/BEAUTY
THE MASQUERADE AND THE MASSACRE.
FEELING NUMB IS STILL FEELING
FILLING THE VOID CREATES EMPTINESS.
CURLED TIGHT BUT NOT SAFE,
THE SUNLIGHT BURNS AS THE TWILIGHT SOOTHES.
THE NIGHTMARE GIVES WAY TO THE NEW DAY.
THE ANXIETY WAKES WITH THE BODY’S DELAY.
WITH THE BODY’S DECAY.

CD: Eminem - 'Relapse'

For the first two albums, Eminem was pretty much untouchable, the right mixture of bitterness, humour, horror, vendettas and goofing around. As time went on though, the schtick became watered down and many of us who loved Slim Shady moved on, probably into the world of L’il Wayne who has been lighting up the rap world as Eminem’s light appeared to be going on.

Well, never underestimate Marshall Mathers, seems to be the lesson here. Freshly sober and clean and back on the scene, you might imagine the worst kind of therapeutic garbage available, but this Shady is just as potent as the booze loving original. There’s no running away from the issue of Eminem’s recent troubles as the opening skit ‘Dr West’ faces it head-on before we are slammed into the hard hitting and disturbing ‘3am’. Think Marshall has calmed and matured? ‘My Mom’ would suggest he still has the same hang-ups as before, but he’s handling them in an even more brutal fashion – let’s just say he will be off his mom’s xmas card list again…

Nothing is sacred, who else would have a song that sees our narrator picking a fight with Christopher Reeve, who disses him via his voicebox? Or describe how he wanted to be a normal kid playing with Teddy Ruxpin whilst his stepfather wanted sexual favours? There’s a lighter side with the awesomely catchy ‘We Made You’ and ‘Old Times Sake’ featuring Dr Dre, but there’s a brilliant sense of menace throughout which leaves you unsure of where Eminem is going next. The only time this disappoints is with the tedious overplaying of ‘Beautiful’ which seems to have been imported from a completely different record. A rubbish one.

Aside from this blip though, this is a glorious return to form, far from a relapse, Eminem seems be here to cure the rap world of any ailments, whilst taking swipes at Lindsay Lohan, Hannah Montana, Ellen and anyone else who pops into his hyperactive brain. The real Slim Shady appears to have stood up, let’s hope he stays at the top of his game. Awesome.

10 Songs To Download This Week

1/ Paranoid - Jonas Brothers
2/ Medicine Ball - Eminem
3/ Marlon JD (Demo, Nicky Wire vocal) - Manic Street Preachers
4/ Little Girl - Julian Casablancas
5/ Untouched - The Veronicas
6/ NW5 - Madness
7/ Ski Jump Nose - Mansun
8/ One Armed Scissor - At The Drive-In
9/ London Girls - Duffy
10/ Fearless - Taylor Swift

CD: Dangermouse/Sparklehorse - 'Dark Night Of The Soul'

Here it is then, the best album you will not be buying this year! Not because it’s not good, it is, but the record company has thrown a little hissy fit and the copyright guys and executives aren’t happy and so, no dice. Still, you’ve got the Internet, right? In that case you can probably find yourself a copy of this before we’ve even finished writing this review. Don’t get us wrong, we are not condoning piracy, but if the album is never gonna be released then you’re not taking any money from The Man or The Artist and lets face it, this is a record that deserves to be heard.

Of course, it could be very different, albums of this kind can be destroyed by all kinds of hubris, the rock star ego being the main one, everyone wanting the biggest piece of the Superstar pie. Yet here, you just find a great song with a great singer following a great song with a great singer. We mean, an album that starts with a dreamy lullaby with Flaming Lips frontman Wayne Coyne on vocals and then gets better has to be worth a listen or ten, right? Especially when it leads into a Super Furry dreamscape featuring Gruff Rhys.

Want something a little more upbeat, then here comes Julian Casablancas, sporting the attitude and effortless cool that that rocketed his band to stardom. ‘Little Girl’ would have fitted in fine on ‘Is This It’ and that’s enough of a compliment for any man, Older legends, you say? Well, how about Black Francis, back to his old Pixies moniker on the raucous ‘Angels Harp’ and perennial guest star Iggy Pop with the blistering ‘Pain’.

Overall it’s a bunch of great songs by some great artists, how David Lynch’s visuals change things, we will find out when the book arrives (now bereft of a soundtrack!) but the record will do for now. Please Dangermouse, more of this and less of the cartoon buffoonery of Gnarls Barkley, you’re too good for that, even if the record company are more likely to release it…

10 Songs To Download This Week

1/ Facing Page: Top Left - Manic Street Preachers
2/ Wraithlike - Maximo Park
3/ London Is The Reason - Gallows
4/ Fuckingsong - Jarvis Cocker
5/ Hello, Goodbye - Jonas Brothers
6/ Nation Of Checkout Girls - The Enemy
7/ Heartburn - Marmalade Duke
8/ Shouldve Said No - Taylor Swift
9/ She's Expensive - The Virgins
10/ Know Your Enemy - Green Day

CD: Manic Street Preachers - Journal For Plague Lovers

The weight of this album is so much that it’s pretty much impossible to just look at it objectively, the same way you might look at, say, the third Maximo Park album, or the new Franz Ferdinand. From the beautiful but disturbing cover to the typeface, it screams ‘Holy Bible’ at you even if you have been living under a rock and don’t know the history (the irony of an album yet to be released having a history is not lost…).
Yes, Richey James Edwards is all over this record, which uses the last lyrics (poetry?) left by the rhythm guitarist before he said his goodbyes (or rather didn’t) in early 1995. It’s not the claustrophobic experience that The Holy Bible is though, but obviously its not a barrel of laughs either. Having said that it also doesn’t lose itself to seriousness with Richey’s cutting humour slicing through the literary and emotional references throughout. (‘We missed the sex revolution when we failed the physical’)
Okay, how do you start an album like Journal For Plague Lovers? Well, perfectly in fact, with a sample from the Christian Bale classic The Machinist – a role for which Bale lost an obscene amount of weight, a not so veiled reference to Edwards’ own battles and a nod to the anorexic images of the Bible. ‘Peeled Apples’ is a stroppy pop punk starter, with Edwards’ lyrics already spinning the listener and sending you scambling for both the volume control and the thesaurus. The band have not sounded this hungry in 15 years, certainly they threatened with Know Your Enemy, but this isn’t trying to regain past glories, it’s like the band has been frozen and come back stronger than ever. ‘The figure eight inside out is infinity’ seems to throw back to Richey’s obsession with the perfect circle and is just as intriguing/confusing.
After the opening punk trio, the first slowdown occurs, but just as ‘This Is Yesterday’ was no walk in the park, ‘This Joke Sport Severed’, from its title down is a confused agony, a return to the beauty/horror of ‘Too Cold Here’ or ‘Love Torn Us Under’ with talk of bone being torn from skin whilst strings soothe the savagery.
‘She Bathed Herself In A Bath Of Bleach’ is a title that nods to the In Utero period of Nirvana and it sounds like Cobain and company sonically too, a nod to Richey’s love of the record and also the fact that Steve Albini produced both albums.
‘Facing Page: Top Left’ is one of the loveliest tears to roll down the face of the Manics catalogue, despite reference to being weighed down and smiling and tinted UV protection. This is not ‘She Loves You’, but it is a classic Bradfield solo moment to shine, except with the spectre of Edwards ramping up the tension.
‘Pretension/Repulsion’ finds Bradfield again tussling with Edwards words, trying to fit the whole of the Oxford Concise Dictionary into a two minute punk diatribe and succeeding brilliantly, again it brings to mind ‘Know Your Enemy’ or even earlier tracks like ‘Spectators of Suicide’ and ‘Sculpture Of Man’.
However the Richeyness of the record has drained, disturbed and inspired so far, the human side of the story really hits with the beautiful Nicky Wire sung ‘Williams Last Words’, ‘Goodnight my sweetheart…’, ‘Wish me some luck as you wave goodbye to me’, ‘You’re the best friends I ever had’. It’s the simplest lyric and roughest vocal, but the most affecting in both departments.
Intelligent, tense, beautiful, touching, gruesome, confusing, agonising, everything you loved about the best quartet in the world.

“I love you, yes I love you, just let me go”. Ouch.