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HUMPTY DUMPTY DAY BLOG |
posted by jim on 23/10/07
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There was a moment. Some time on Saturday afternoon. The reunited Crazy Carter Crew were hard at work, the video wall and the lights were burning bright and white across the sticky floor of the Glasgow Barrowlands Ballroom. I went for a walk around the venue, my feet sticking to the sticky floor. I had my ipod up loud and I was listening to ‘Like a Rolling Stone’ by Bob Dylan and I felt like I was king of the world. It was a good feeling. I felt as totally at peace with myself and things as I have for a while.
I’d been worrying about the first of the two Carter reunion shows. I thought I might be too old and plump to strut what was left of my stuff for almost two hours – longer gigs than we ever used to do – I had a sore throat, I was on my fifth or sixth cold since we’d started rehearsing a few months earlier. I was paranoid that I’d step onto the stage and nothing more than a squeak would come out of my mouth.
I’d promised myself and others that I wouldn’t sit up all night on the tourbus to Glasgow, drinking and talking – to save my voice for the gig – and I pretty much stayed true to my word. I went to my moving bus bed before 1.30 am and was up and in search of a coffee by 8am. Not being in any way Ray Mears, I like familiarity when I travel. I haven’t got an adventurous bone in my body and far from seeking out a local dive where only the most local of local goes for breakfast. To drink coffee made from garden snails and driftwood. Imagine my delight when I saw the lights of Marks and Spencers and their Café Revive cappuccino and almond croissants.
The gig itself was full of old faces from the past – including Jon Fat Beast who I hadn’t seen for I don’t know how long. I know it was loud. People are saying it was the loudest gig they’ve ever been to, which in spite of the fact that I wouldn’t want to be so directly responsible for mass deafness it does make me feel somehow pleased with myself.
I made it through the gig and into the next day without too much stress or nervous breakdowns. I didn’t collapse in tears, which I have done in the past after such high profile and important Carter occasions. I expect I will bawl my eyes out at Brixton Academy. There’s going to be so many people I haven’t seen for ages. Too many people to talk to in a short space of time. I should make more effort to see my friends at other times instead of packing all my socialising into aftershow parties once every fifteen years.
Today is Humpty Dumpty Day.
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Java Script |
posted by jim on 9/10/07
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I’ve noticed that to excuse rude and obnoxious behaviour from the likes of Simon Cowell and all those TV chef bullies and ‘celebrity’ ‘experts’ and judges on cookery and ballroom dancing talent shows, you just have to call the bullying ‘pantomime’
As somebody with a small amount of panto experience I can’t see what’s so pantomime about it. Being told you're a fat and ugly loser with no talent, often by a kettle calling pot or being booed and spat at outside an Elstree television studio by the kind of people who usually spend their days banging on the sides of prison vans and setting fire to the houses of pediatricians. I presume soon this excuse for being a shit will be applied to more serious situations. Such as, “the war in Iraq is all pantomime.” That’s something to look forward to. Remember where you heard the misguided paranoia first.
Why did they have to move the coffee kiosk and its barista from platforms 3 and 4 of East Croydon station to Platforms 1 and 2? I was just getting used to the barista dude recognising me and starting to fluff up my milk before I actually got to order my cappuccino. At first it made me feel uncomfortable. I hated the idea of having ‘a usual’. I don’t want to ever be predictable. The same thing happened recently when we were on a pub crawl for Mr Spoons’ stag night and the barman of our most local local queried why there were so many of us and why weren’t we drinking our usual Becks.
I’ve often said that I’d like to retire from the music biz and live in a small village, where I’d frequent the village pub and although everyone else in the pub was posh and a bit stuck up they’d accept me as the village’s rock star and eccentric. This happened for a short while in the village where my mum lives but she doesn’t go to the pub anymore so it was a short lived experience. Anyway, in spite of not really wanting the East Croydon barista to know what I was going to order before I ordered it, that cappuccino he poured had become my favourite cappuccino
He was particularly skilled at frothing the milk and shaking the chocolate on top – which he no longer needed to ask me whether I wanted or not. And then they moved him across the railway tracks and replaced his little coffee hut with a different one. I know I could go across to platforms and 1 and 2 and get my frothy coffee from my old friend. But then he’d think I was weird or I was stalking him. Bloody hell, some people, you show a bit of brand loyalty and they accuse you of sexual assault.
I went to see Slava’s Snowshow
It’s the second time I’ve seen it. The first time I saw the show it was the major inspiration behind Jim’s Super Stereoworld.
I went to my manager’s wedding. I was an usher and got to dress like Hugh Grant. I read something nice in the church and duet-ed with the groom on the Smiths’ song ‘Panic’ at the lavish wedding reception.
It’s probably getting annoying now but I’ve finished the fumftieth rewrite of my novel, which is now quite brilliant and hopefully finally good enough for publishing and winning me the Booker Prize.
Carter rehearsals still going well. Not long till the gigs now.
It will no doubt feel weird once they’re over.
And relax.
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Blog addendum |
posted by jim on 11/09/07
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And here's roughly what I'd like to do to
Marco Pierre White
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BAMBI'S DAD GOES TO BOURNEMOUTH |
posted by jim on 11/09/07
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Les and me did a Carter interview with Andrew Collins for Word magazine, with proper photographs in Crystal Palace park and everything. Comes out in October.
Watched the DVDs Stranger Than Fiction, Starter For Ten, The Last King of Scotland and The Science of Sleep which as with his other film Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind you have to watch the how it was made DVD extra to fully appreciate what a total genius director Michel Gondry is.
Read the books Apathy and Other Small Victories by Paul Neilan
and What is The What? By Dave Eggers Both wonderful books in very different ways. What is The What? is as life affirming as people say it is.
I sang on three Chris T-T songs for his new record. I haven’t been asked to appear on many other people’s records before. This may be the start of me becoming the indie pop Timbaland or Dr. Dre
Went to my second ever stag party. It was in Bournemouth, the Prague of Southern England. There seemed to be a hell of a lot of stag and hen parties in town, I’d hate to live there, it must get annoying. I like to think that our particular gang of lads was something of an indie stag. We didn’t have beer bottle costumes and the groom wasn’t wearing only a hula skirt and L-plates tied to his ding dong. This latest booze up follows the recent stag and nuptials of my uber roadie Mr Spoons. It’s now the turn of my manager Marcus T Tandy Ollington to look back nervously over his shoulder in a church/blessed hotel function room. I’m an usher at Marc's wedding in a couple of weeks. I think that means I either have to take my shirt off and wear a funny hat or get to carry a special little red torch and sell ice creams during the interval
Hats off to Anita Roddick An important person during the early years of my vegetarianism and animal rights enthusiasm.
This is roughly what I'd like to do to Calvin Harris
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LIFE IN SLOW MOTION |
posted by jim on 7/08/07
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A
Yesterday we began our rehearsals for the winter Carter gigs. The idea is to rehearse once a week to get back into making the songs feel natural and remove a bit of the panic attack and nervous breakdown at the gigs. The session went well, a few technical problems but that was to be expected. Rehearsing locally too, which makes the whole thing more of a pleasure. Also, rehearsal studios like music shops can sometimes be run by miserable, offish types but we seem to have stumbled upon a so far so friendly and not too miserable studio. Let’s hope we don’t upset them by blowing up their PA system.
B
The sun is out which makes a pleasant change after all the floods. I even sat in the garden a couple of times last week. Mainly because the neighbours seem to have gone away so I don’t have to listen to their relentless shouting. Can’t remember the last time I sat in the garden without headphones on. It’s nice to hear the birdies whistling.
C
I wish my new LP was out. This will probably be the longest it’s taken me from writing via recording to actual release of an album. The terror is that I won’t like it when it does eventually come out. My most recent memory is of a great record though.
D
I’ve started, much to the annoyance of my long-suffering family, another ‘book’. If I ever finish writing it, expect to read it while you’re watching the closing ceremony for the London Olympic Games.
E
I’m still an unpublished fiction author by the way. Had some more rejection letters though. I now don’t bother reading my post: I just measure it.
F
My mood at the moment is impatient. What does the smiley-type face thing look like for that emotion? Waiting for the Carter gigs. Waiting to release my new LP. Waiting for press meetings. Sleeve designs. Videos. Waiting to get published. Waiting for lots of other stuff and on other people.
G
I think I might go and sit in the garden.
H I J K L M N O P
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FLOOD! |
posted by jim on 20/07/07
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I was at East Croydon railway station this morning, when a couple of rozzers with one of those drug sniffer dogs came over and gave me a bit of a sniff (the dog not one of the coppers). Naturally I was drug free, although I was slightly concerned nevertheless that the dog might pick up the scent of skunk or something similar in my clothing. Like that thing about all US dollar bills having traces of cocaine in them, perhaps it was the same for anyone living in Lambeth. I might have picked up spliff whiff from just walking to the bus stop this morning. Anyway, the dog gave me a bit of nose around and then moved on to the next person. I’d got away with it. On the way home, through what will in the future become known as the Great Flood of Croydon and Thornton Heath, I thought that they should let one of those dogs loose in the Houses of Parliament and see what happens. Seems everyone in there all had a bang on a spliff at some point or other. I might fashion this idea into a short story.
Because I’m an author don’t you know. An unpublished author at the moment admittedly. But not for lack of trying. You may have heard or read about this bloke David Lassman, who sent beginnings of Jane Austen books, with changed names to various leading publishers and agents, only to get all but one of them rejected as unsuitable for publishing. The article said,
‘Mr Lassman expected to be branded a fraud. But he was surprised when publishers and agents failed to spot they had been sent the work of Austen. Bloomsbury, publisher of the Harry Potter books, for instance, suggested the chapters had been read "with interest" but were not "suited to our list".
I’ve had that exact rejection letter from Bloomsbury myself. It arrived in the post in an envelope with my address on, written in my own handwriting, on the day before I read about the Lassman scam. Still, to be fair to Bloomsbury, it is Harry Potter season again and as the specky wizard’s publishers they must be too rushed off their feet to have time to read anything else. I’m surprised there hasn’t been a lot of press and TV, radio etc about the new Potter book. You honestly wouldn’t know the thing was out.
Rejection letters from publishers do make you question your own worth, so it’s good to know that it’s nothing personal and that they probably haven’t read what you’ve written at all. Just taken it out of one envelope, made a note of your name and put it into another envelope (the stamped addressed envelope you sent them with your manuscript) and dropped it in the out tray. I won’t give up my day job just yet.
Talking of which, yesterday we began filming a video for ‘Battling The Bottle’ from my new LP. The vid stars me (naturally) and also the method acting of Mr Spoons. Spoons was up at 4 this morning, filming mores stuff for the video in Leigh-on-Sea (home of the master butcher of). I’m looking forward to seeing the finished results soon. For a clue to the video’s theme, check this out
You can also see some of Mr Spoons’ other work pop promo work here
Oscar!
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LIVE EARTH LIVE BLOG |
posted by jim on 7/07/07
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LIVE!
For the second Saturday afternoon in a row I’m sat indoors on a sunny day watching a pop concert at Wembley Stadium. This week it’s just while I’m waiting for the Tour De France to start on ITV4. I’ve got Freeview now, so I can watch the French cycling more often than in previous years, when I could only video the once a weekly highlights show on ITV1 at two in the morning.
Last week’s Diana concert at Wembley was pretty rubbish but somehow less annoying than this Live Earth one. At least at the Diana show the acts didn’t have to lie about why they were there. I find it hard to believe that the Pussycat Dolls for example are really that committed to forcing the governments of the world towards policy change. Every now and again some comedian will come on to be interviewed by Jonathan Ross and they’ll joke about how they couldn’t really give much of a shit about climate change. Jonathan Ross clearly doesn’t care either.
Genesis weren’t much of a pub band to kick the whole thing off either, surely Hayseed Dixie or a Quo covers band would have been better. And is Johnny Borrell from Razorlight going to be the new Bono one day? I think so, look at him down on his knees in his cap sleeve t-shirt, half way up that Wembley Bono-walkway.
I was reading various interviews in the Radio Times with some of the acts appearing. Most of them when asked about their least environmentally friendly habit they said it was flying. But at the same time didn’t seem too keen to change that. Beyond planting a tree, or paying some company to plant one for them.
Chris Moyles wants to know if we’re up for saving the planet. How could I possibly refuse Chris Moyles?
Oh Christ, Snow Patrol are onstage now. When’s the cycling?
Joss Stone was talking this morning about how we should all plant a tree and how it’s easy. It only takes five minutes she said. Just dig a hole and plant the tree.
Spinal Tap are playing later. They may be the least ironic band playing.
I wonder what next week’s Wembley concert will be for?
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I ONCE PLAYED ON THAT BIG STAGE WHERE THE ARCTIC MONKEYS WERE ON |
posted by jim on 25/06/07
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Me
Okay, I bought the Wellington boots – I won’t call them Wellies, I’ve got to retain some punk rock dignity for God’s sake – anyway, I bought the Wellingtons. Shiny black and one pound ninety-nine. Slightly jack-bootish looking I suppose. My manager’s boots were pink, to balance the whole fascists in touch with their feminine side of things thing. No, I don’t know what that means either.
Other stuff:
It was raining a lot. You may have heard. To get across quite how much it rained, at one point Team Jim Bob found themelves sheltering from it in the ambient trance tent.
At 1 in the afternoon on Friday I played three songs in the rain in front of the Shelter Wall of Shame
For my gig on the Friday night, I was terrified that with the Arctic Monkeys, Bjork, Fatty Slim and Hot Chip all performing elsewhere at the same time as me, I’d be making my Glastonbury comeback in front of two men and a dog. And they don’t let dogs in. So it was a pleasant surprise to find a big and enthusiastic crowd in the Brixton Academy sized Leftfield tent. All singing along and making me feel special. I had to cut a couple of songs from the set because of time troubles and the differing American clock system but I think I got away with it.
Every time we walked anywhere near the Pyramid Stage I felt compelled to point out to anybody who might be listening that I once headlined it.
Didn’t see a lot of other bands but, Neds and Cud were good. The Beat were excellent. I met Rankin Roger’s son once, when I was recording that Ian Dury Y2K song with Fuzz Townshend and Rankin Junior popped round Fuzz’s house. Saw little snippets of Modest Mouse, The Fratellis and caught a bit of the View. Namely the bit where they played the worst cover version of any song ever in the world ever. And it’s one I’ve ruined myself. (Squeeze’s ‘Up The Junction’) (in a ska style).
The sun came out for Bright Eyes’ wonderful set. Conor Bright Eyes was wearing a white suit (including shoes), I presume some roadies had to carry him to the stage. He’s only small I suppose. Maybe next year I’ll leave the Wellington boots at home and get Mr Spoons to carry me around all weekend. Yes, that’s when I play next year. I’ve been sort of asked back already. Which is partly why I won’t be telling you a few amusing stories about Joss Stone. That and the libel laws.
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THE DEER HUNTER |
posted by jim on 17/06/07
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I’m playing Glastonbury Festival at the weekend and it feels a bit like I’m about to begin my tour of duty in the Vietnam War, or as they call it in Vietnam – the American War. People keep giving me advice. Passing on their knowledge and survival tips. Their experience from their time in the field. They want to tell me their horror stories and share what they've learned from them.
I want to laugh it all off and say, ‘it’s just a gig’. 'How bad can it possibly get?' But I keep quiet because otherwise I’ll only end up with egg on my face, or trench foot, or I’ll drown in a Somerset sludge torrent. I’ll take all the advice, fill my rucksack with lots of socks and some empty carrier bags, for my dirty clothes and to slip over my feet when it pisses down with rain. I won’t wear Wellington boots though. I’m not five years old or a member of the Countryside Alliance – or what Chris T-T calls them for short – Instead I’ll have to make do with my Doc Martens. I might wear the steel toecap pair though. I’ve only worn them the once before. Mainly because they’re a bit heavy and it can be tiring walking in them. I wore them the other day on stage at the Islington Academy gig I did for the Shelter charity supporting Cud. I was wary of stamping my feet in case I broke the stage, drowned out the sound of my guitar, or made my beer catapult into the air and kill someone in the audience. The other fear about wearing steel toecap boots is that I might not be able to resist the urge to kick people. That’s what they were made for I believe.
On Friday I went to the wedding of Mr and Mrs Spoons. Mr Spoons is my über roadie Neil. He drives me to gigs and tunes my guitar. He knows his way around the streets and roads of Britain better than any sat nav. Neil is my TomTom. My NeilNeil. He also does this website and cooks food when I record albums. He’s a Jack of all trades and a master of a fair few of them too. Turns out he’s great at weddings too. I haven’t heard so much laughter at a wedding before, and not just during the speeches or when Neil was body popping around the dancefloor or doing his Gary Numan impression, but also in the ceremony itself. Often a stuffy, nerve filled part of the whole wedding thing. A lovely day. On Thursday Spoons will be putting up a tent in what I hope is more of a dusty than muddy field. I bet he’s brilliant at that too. I bet he turns out to be like Ray Mears.
Anyway. See you on the other side. Hope I don’t end up hooked on smack, wearing a headband, playing Russian Roulette, having completely forgotten who I, Robert De Niro or Mr Spoons are.
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SSSHHH |
posted by jim on 26/05/07
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I feel a bit between things at the moment. I’ve finished re-re-re-re writing my novel and I’ve sent a few copies to various people for them to ignore for a while. I’ve pretty much completed my new album and I’m just waiting for a free day on the studio’s calendar so I can remix that one last song. I’ve got a few festival appearances lined up for the summer, and then of course there are those Carter shows later in the year to look forward to. But in the meantime, I keep making lists of stuff I need to do without actually doing any of it. All the boring things I have to do like my accounts and tidying up the house.
It was good to take a break from my break with a gig in a library. I played at Wimbledon Library last year, reading from my Carter book and playing a few songs to an intimate crowd in an upstairs room. This time I was in Richmond Library. In the actual library itself. The Pyramid Stage. It was the first solo gig I’d ever done without a single member of Team Jim Bob there with me. Usually both, and at least always one of either Marc or Mr Spoons have been at every solo show so far. With Marc in Ireland and Spoons in Berlin I felt a bit lost beforehand. I don’t know how solo artists and stand up comedians go on tours on their own. It must be so lonely. Aside from playing some tunes I was also reading from my ‘mini novel’ and just to ad a bit more stress and pressure I decided to have a go at live harmonica for the first time.
I thought the gig went really well. Reading aloud for an audience isn’t quite as easy as you might imagine. It’s hard not to get tongue tied (I played that song) or be taken over by your paranoia that everyone is just wishing you’d shut up and play Sheriff Fatman. As it turned out, the audience were appreciative and laughed in most of the right places. I was home by ten. And still sober, having only had a couple of plastic cups of wine form the box on the library counter.
I must do my accounts today.
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