Wednesday, 26 August 2009

She is so in love with you

Only a few minutes ago I found out that the legend that is Ellie Greenwich passed away today. She is undoubtedly one of the pioneers of pop music, especially for females behind the scenes. Even people who wouldn't recognize her name, know her songs- recorded by everyone from Neil Diamond to the Cramps. I'm not here to write about her achievements though, the songs really do speak for themselves.

I can't even begin to explain how much her songwriting changed my ideas on music in general.

Thank you, Ellie.

and of course...

Rest in peace. xxxx

Thoughts from the Stairs of a Church

I sit alone and watch the world,
But does the world watch me?
Does the world pay attention to my life?
Does it care for my hopes and fears, my dreams and desires?
Or am I outside looking in?
Looking at a world which is blank to everything but its self,
Insular and afraid,
Synical and alone,
Loveless and broken......

Matthew Suter

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Obscurities, Anomalies and Faroes.....

By David Saul Fineberg

A Quiet Riots Evening

Dear fellow rioters and QR readers,

In the short time this blog has been alive, we've been graced with everything from photo stories, music reviews, arguments for multiple lovers, arguments against multiple lovers, suicidal thoughts versus reasons for's been an intense and emotional journey thus far and one which I look forward to seeing where it will take us all.

I set this blog up with the intention of venting certain thoughts and frustrations but under the beautiful protection of anonymity. Writing a diary never gives you the feedback or other opinion you want to hear and your own blogs make you feel very hypersensitive and often embarrased by revealing too much. Not only has this served as a personal outlet but it also has for other people - other's posts are so intriguing and make such an honest, pure read. Thank you all.

It gives me great pleasure to announce the first of many Quiet Riot evenings, taking place THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 17TH at Catch. We will have photographic exhibitions, readings, DJs and live music for your pleasure.

Stay tuned for more info shortly.
Thanks again,
Dee Sada

Something Old, Something Borrowed, Something Blue.

Over the past month or so, I have been away to France, lived off wine and cigarettes and made intense music, but the gaps in between those meagre activities have given me time to think. And it focused on something that I have been thinking about for rather a long time.

A few weeks ago I got in contact with a VERY long lost friend from primary school (merci to facebook) and with her, a few other people I used to know also got in contact with me.
I havent had ANY contact with these people in perhaps 6 or 7 years, and it is so bizarre how you think you knew that person inside out when you were at school together, and that gap has changed them into completely different people, that you know absolutely nothing about. Another thing that totally intrigued me was that if you walked past that person in the street, you would never at all acknowledge that person unless they had remained totally youthful and not physically matured.

And finally, I really wonder, is it going to be worth getting to know that person again, when you have become so different from each other, and moved so far away?


Monday, 24 August 2009

There's no such thing as Too Much

Give more.
People that have
Are the first to want to be rid of them,

Some people don't realise that no-one is ever entirely happy and that EVERYONE deserves to live, even the scum of the earth and thats why we don't execute them (in Britain)

The grass is not greener on the other side, make the most of what you have even if it's meagre, don't expect too much and you will always be happy (if not pleasently suprised)

Someone once said that the point of life is to learn as much as you can before you die, ok so not everyone is going to get a degree but your learning about yourself that maybe your crap at finance but at least your kind to (animals?)

It makes me angry when people toll with the idea of death,
I knew people who would have loved to live longer but didn't and
like a certain someone said:

"There's nothing glorious in dying. Anyone can do it."

Life lessons from the television

Being hateful still means you care
Because to hate is to be passionate
The only thing that could really hurt is to say you feel nothing

Sunday, 23 August 2009

I Gave Too Much

There really is nothing worth living for. I have never experienced love or real sex. A dark fumble and bitter taste is about all. I’ve never had anyone put their arms around me at a bus stop and made sure I got home ok. I’ve never shown love to another nor received it. I haven’t even come remotely close to it.

I have no money.

I have no real friends.

I have family that I never see.

What is the point of living, accumulating more debt and worrying about how I will live this life? It will be easier for everyone involved if I just wasn’t here rather than everyone worrying about this freak.


What a total waste of space.

I don’t deserve to exist.

Monday, 17 August 2009

Boys and shoes and boys and shoes and boys and shoes

An idea of girls and subcultures:

"It is as everything that relates only to us comes out in footnotes to the main text, as worthy of the odd reference. We come on the agenda somewhere between 'Youth' and 'Any Other Business'. We encounter ourselves in men's culture as 'by the way' and peripheral. According to all the reflections we are not really there."

Woman's Consciousness, Man's World- Sheila Rowbotham

This quote is from 1973. Think of how many subcultures and fads have come and gone since this time. Or even, just music culture in general. Have we had the breakthrough or are we still just under the radar?

Monday, 10 August 2009

Where's Captain Planet The Movie?

Today I read a semi-interesting article about how Generation Y is already feeling nostalgic about their childhood. I am not entirely sure if I am young enough to fit in to this particular age group, but the examples made me feel old. It mainly focused on the fact that the Harry Potter cast and the majority of its fans are already jumping into their early 20s- even though it feels like just yesterday that this bespectacled young wizard first appeared on screen.
The Disney Generation (and I do mean the new version, not Britney and Justin... although having to state that difference also makes me feel my age) are also on the brink of adult hood. This realization brought up comments about what children's television programmes were most missed. While I was more into VHS copies of The Trap Door and Roger Mellie Man On The Telly, I had at least assumed amongst the listed would be shows like Are You Afraid Of The Dark? or the original Power Rangers. Instead, I was seeing Lizzie McGuire and Pokemon. Plus, Britney Spears is relatively close to my age, so why is going to see her in concert being compared to seeing someone like New Kids On the Block?
Admittedly, I am a complete nerd for looking up movies and bands I obsessed over as a child. It's a bit charming to dig up old mix tapes and try to figure out just what you were thinking when you were taping Boyzone off the radio. Or that one time when you went to see them and Peter Andre was the opener. Remember when Peter Andre was known as just a muscle-man with bad hair singing cheesy pop tunes? He still is? Oh, anyway. Well yes, some people reading this may think that my own personal childhood attachments may not seem that old themselves. Sometimes it doesn't really feel that long ago that I was watching the Little Mermaid in theatres. Then again, that movie came out in 1989- twenty years ago. Staple Disney movie in any kid's life, and some of my younger friends are a bit shocked that I am old enough to have seen it in its original theatrical release.
Not to mention, the kick Hollywood has been on lately with bringing things like Transformers and the Ninja Turtles to the big screen (again) as well as their choice of not-so-old remakes feels a bit ridiculous at times- Drop Dead Fred? REALLY?
It's impossible to stop the clocks, and I suppose I can try and force myself to admit that Limp Bizkit have already become a band of yesteryear, although I still refuse to lump them in as an artist of my generation.
I guess what sort of disturbs me the most about all of this is that at some point, bands like the Jonas Brothers and television shows like Hannah Montana are going to be dug up some years from now by twenty-somethings looking to feel like a kid again. I can't help but feel a bit sorry for them, cartoons these days aren't nearly as interesting as they used to be.

Sunday, 9 August 2009

Public Transport

I sit alone near the back of a route one bus. Blank metal walls surround me and I get the distinct feeling that this must be what it is like for a tinned sardine: cramped and marinating in the juices of your fellow passengers (though I imagine the smell would be preferable).

The Monotony of my surroundings is broken only by a few advertisments which I read aimlessly to pass the time. One has a picture of a woman sat on a similar but much cleaner bus, apparantly in a state of complete bliss. The reason for this I cannot imagine being the superb quality of her surroundings but probably the prospect of getting payed to pose for a photo on a bus. Another notice is for flu jabs designed no doubt by a group of men in suits wanting to take advantage of the current state of paranoia over the latest brand of the illness. According to the statistics it brandishes in bold red letters it appears to be for all who care for their lives the equivalent of the touch of Christ.

Again bored I find myself narrating a Discovery Channel style documentary in my head said in the mandatory Attenborough drone
"The Bus is a hugely diverse environment with many creatures coming from all over the area to use it's services" and so on. In my fictional documentary the compulsory drunk slumped mumbling to himself at the back of the bus is a queer representative of the leader of the pride gazing down from his vantage point over his kingdom.

In front of me are rows upon rows of uniform seats all with the same revolting, dull, multi-coloured covers, designed no doubt to disguise any stains (be it fast food, White Lightning or the vomit induced by it). The seats seem to me to share many similarities with the people sitting on them: ordered, used to maximum efficiency and desperate to hide any faults with mediocrity. Each person shares the common objective of trying to avoid any contact with another, pretending to read a newspaper or attend a bawling infant. This may be public transport but in spirit it seems there is nothing public about it.

Matthew Suter

Thursday, 6 August 2009

Prostitutes in Picadilly

So rumor has it there are prostitutes that are situated near my flat.

I've never seen them so I've never really believed it mainly because I didn't want to.

My sister swears theres a black pimp with a ponytail that hangs out in Picadilly Gardens, high and flanked by women. (In my head he looks like Samual L Jackson in Jackie Brown)

Anyway today we had really good weather, so I went out taking pictures and my mission was Industrial Manchester circa 1980...One thing led to another and I ended up in what is known as the red light area because there are dark tunnels pervs pick up women from, I spotted a woman walking through one...

I only go and take a picture because her back is turned

She turns starts yelling at me waves her arms about screaming "Come on then, do you want a better picture, I'm gonna get your F****** ass kicked you stupid B**** Go on then"

Then she starts tottering after me and I'm running like nobodies business, because all I can think of is a manic Samual L Jackson character chasing after me and killing me departing with a quirky One liner, which includes the words 'Mothef*****' and 'Ho'

Which is, admittedly a pretty cool way to die.