I've decided that bloody gorgeous (my semi-aborted series of equal-opportunities perversion focusing on pretty men and fake blood (because there are hundreds, nay thousands of pictures of hot lady-people covered in fake blood and the internet demands balance) needs to be resurrected. Since I'm still on a Skinny Puppy kick, who better to feature than the lovely Mr Ogilvie?
Unfortunately I don't know when a lot of these were taken, I found them floating on the internet (links and resources listed below)
I'm guessing (?) these two are from the same photoshoot. He looks positively demonic!
Doesn't he have nice eyes? This picture was used for some of the promo posters for the 2009 tour.
More from the same photo shoot. It's hard to beleive he's 47, innit? (On a side note, should I be worried that the majority of male celebs I crush on are over twice my age?)
Another live shot, I would guess from 2005, just based on the hair.
This one they've been using to promote the 2010 tour, it was on the M'era Luna site. Actually, Cevin Key has quite nice eyes too...
This one's lifted from this article where the band talk about their tattoos (except Cevin Key... I'm guessing he hasn't got any?)
Sources and resources for Sk'uppy/ohGr pics: This fan archive has a lot of pictures. The live pictures and personal pics of fans with the bands are pretty well archived (dates, credits etc) the photoshoots less so. http://fuckyeahskinnypuppy.tumblr.com/ Litany is the fan resource to end all fan resources: really detailed FAQs and suchlike. Not so many pictures.
Anyway, I'll leave you with some of my favourite Sk'uppy videos, all of which featuring quite a lot of fake blood. I wonder if he gets much of a discount on fake blood?
Ogre pretending to stick things in his head and Cevin playing half a dozen instruments at once. Cool or what?
Intense and slightly creepy early performance of Assimilate, in which Ogre has fun with blood capsules. He's so young! And I've just noticed he has really skinny legs. (The whole of this show is available on youtube, and I highly recommend checking it out; the version of The Chokeis incredible.)
Oh and this is unrelated to bloody gorgeous but it cracks me up.
"Nothing!"
I'll stop now. Next time on postpunkpixiedust: crafty inspiration, macabre imagery, interesting videos, and ways to keep the cat off the laptop.
More Bloody Gorgeous coming soon! If you have any suggestions of handsome gents that ought to be included, leave a comment!
Isn't it funny how sometimes you can trawl through the charity shops, intent on finding something exciting but leave with absolutely nothing, when other days you pop in for something and leave with an armful of stuff you don't really need? Well this week was an armful sort of week.
Shitty photography time...
Ignore me. Ignore my stupid hairstyle. Ignore the mirror. Ignore the lack of flash. Focus instead on the pretty brownish velvet top acquired for £3 from a chairty shop. It's pretty huge, but it looks quite cool over black jeans.
Here it is viewed with flash. It's got pretty braids, rickrack and cords sewn into it and then tie-dyed along with the velvet. I think it's the first time I've ever seen rickrack look elegant. It also has little panels of floral velvet which have been tie-dyed over the top, gives quite a nifty effect.
So yeah, this is another one of those garments to wear when I feel like being a fat hippy, I suppose. Talking of hippyish garments...
Indian cotton jacket in yellow and purple. Slightly too small on the arms for me, but absolutely adorable.
The detail is worked as satin stitch which gives it a nice glossy tone and it has a raw fringe at the bottom. It's incredibly cute and wonderfully psychadelic. I love it.
Here is a picture of me, loving it. Like I said, ignore the hair, I'd bigged it up as scruffily as possible to try and avoid getting a certain job, the details of which, if you're interested, I'll discuss below.
As you may have guessed from the title of this post, I'm jobless again. My contract at the theatre ran out and although I'm still doing voluntary work for them, they can't afford to pay me so I'm stuck on jobseeker's again. It doesn't seem to be as bad as it was before, there are more apply-able jobs out there at the moment, but it doesn't stop me from making incredibly silly mistakes. Case in point: I sort of accidentally applied for a job at a chavvy nightclub, not quite realising quite how chavvy or objectionable said job was. This company was (is?) looking for people to take photos of club-goers and dupe them into spending £3 to £10 on cheap little print outs and key-rings of said photos. And seriously, whether they're chavvy and have no taste or not, they don't deserve to be duped out of £3 for a cheap photo the size of a credit card taken by some phony photographer.
Worst of all the company doesn't do interviews as such but does "training sessions" instead, a cheap way to get people working for nothing in the name of "trials". These training sessions are four hours long and during the busiest hours of the club on the busiest days (talk about getting free labour). I decided that, even though I needed the money, I didn't need this job. This is clearly one of those jobs for driving people mad. So I decided to rat out my hair and do my makeup to make myself look as unwell as possible. Besides, the dress code didn't mention hair and makeup, just black t-shirts and black trousers or skirts. When I arrived at the club, the "trainer" wasn't there and I couldn't get hold of her since they're apparently not allowed their phones on when they're working. So I was left outside this ghastly place for half an hour, with ghastly people in ghastly outfits sneering, jeering and threatening me. Nice.
Thankfully when I did finally meet the trainer, a sullen young woman who eyed me with great suspicion, announced that I wasn't dressed to fit the dress code (I was, technically, I was dressed fairly smartly; long full skirt and black t-shirt, only I had my leather biker jacket over the top) and sent me home, telling me I could phone the manager chap the next day and arrange another session. My plan was to phone him and say that since I'd been verbally abused by the club's clientelle I wasn't willing to undertake such a trial, but by the time I got up this morning there was an email telling me they "weren't persuing my application at this time". In other words, "sod off you weird gothy freak and take your high moral standards with you."
Anyway, to finish off I promised some more Alchemy reviews, and Alchemy reviews you shall have.
First up, Raven Spith a fabulous but sadly discontinued hairband. It seems to have been designed to compliment the Ravenskull earring with the same emerald green stone and cascade of feathers. It looks great, I tend to wear it with big hair to add some height but it could easily be worn with a sleek style for that flapper look. The feathers drape quite nicely. My only fault with it is the hairband itself is a little bendy, it feels like it's going to break, and though this might just be to counteract the brittleness that a lot of cheaper ones have, it does bother me.
Next up The Raven. Alchemy say this is a "graphic representation of Poe's most celebrated and tragic poem", in other words, it's inspired by The Raven. The photos make it look huge, it isn't; the raven skull thingy is under an inch, the purple crystal is about... an inch and a half (ish?), which is fine because if it were any bigger it would be a bit tacky and overly "LOOK AT ME I'M SPOOKY!" Instead it's fairly tasteful, suitably macabre without being showy. The only problem is, I in my infinite wisdom took it to M'era Luna and now the feathers are coming loose, it's nothing a bit of glue won't solve, just bear in mind, this one's a bit fragile. It's a bit of an unusual shape, too, and suits scoop necks or sweetheart necklines (or corsets, I suppose) as opposed to V-necks, so this is not one to wear with your Victorian dress shirts.
That's your lot. Next time: the return of Bloody Gorgreous with several special posts full of pretty gentlemen and corn syrup.
I read a lot of books. I also buy an awful lot of books, more books than I have time to read. Still, this week I treated myself to even more books from Amazon (first time I ever used them, actually, not bad at all) and since most of these recent purchases are suited to the blog, I thought I might as well review them.
So, starting with the gothiest, then: Gothic Charm School by Julian Venters. Yes, we've all read the blog and a fair bit of the content is lifted (in some cases word for word) from there, and yes, a lot of her content is really for people new to the scene, but do you know what? This is a book that everyone of a gothy persuasion (and their friends, families, and coworkers) should read. Why? Well, it dispells the myths, lays out a potted history of the subculutre, and hands out some thoroughly worth-while advice, all in a fun, accessible tone with some simply darling little illustrations. Ms Venters style, parodying ettiquette guides of yore, might be a bit wearing for those without much of a sense of humour, but then I guess it's not really going to help them much. She covers a range of day-to-day topics, from explaining goth to people who don't get it and dodging cliches, to raising gothy children, to coping with relationships, gossip and quarrels within the scene. It's a useful thing to hand over to people who keep asking silly questions.
I have to say I really like her attitude and I found myself agreeing with much of what she says (although I'm slightly perturbed by the notion that people at clubs might be rolling their eyes at my eyeliner...) Well worth reading, whether you're a jaded Eldergoth, a know-it-all but slightly clueless Babybat or just some bloke in jeans and a t-shirt scratching his head as all the black clad weirdoes walk by.
Next: Goth:Vamps and Dandies by Gavin Baddley. When I first heard Mr Baddley was writing this I was thrilled; it's predecessor Goth Chic was the book that first showed me that Goth was not some sort of weird satanic heavy-metal cult but a clique for people with interests very similar to my own. Goth Chic, for those who haven't read it (and I do heartily recommend it if you haven't), focused mostly on the origins of the subculture, through literature, film, television, and music (right from early rock'n'roll and jazz up to fully fledged nineties goth rock) with a couple of short chapters on sexuality and fashion. I've often wondered if the brevity of the fashion chapter was deliberate, an attempt to get away from the image certain people have of goth as a fashion/trend-based movement, but it looks like it wasn't since Goth:Vamps and Dandies is a study of the gothic aesthetic in fashion, tracing its roots and influences from the nineteen twenties to today. It's a fairly serious and scholarly book, but accessibly written and sumptuously illustrated with gorgeous full colour photos. This is a book to thumb through while getting ready to hit the town, or maybe to lend to people who say "goths all dress the same". It's bang up to date, too, discussing recent trends towards steampunk and cybergoth (something skimmed over in Goth Chic to be fair), the difference between goth and emo, and the goth scene's relationship with mainstream "spooky" brands like Emily the Strange. It's very interesting, fairly in-depth, well written, and, as I said, absolutely beautiful. If you don't have Goth Chic I'd still recommend reading that first, but this is a worthy appendix to it, covering plenty of new ground and looking at some of the things he covered before in a different light.
Highly recommended for leaving around on a coffee table.
Next: Paint it Black by everyone's favourite New York perkygoth Voltaire. I'm sad to say I never got the chance to read his What is Goth (it's dead expensive these days) but because I love his music and his comics (and his website, and his animation and... dammit why is this man so multitalented?) I snapped this one up too. It's pretty and it has some fun ideas but it's featherlight stuff, with whole pages given up to silly rambles and pictures of Mr V putting up curtains, or his gothy lady assistants lounging on the bonnet of a pimped out car. A lot of the projects are a bit... well Babybat; they scream out "my parents won't let me paint my room black!" And one or two are just plain dumb (there's a bottle "chandelier" that just involves collecting bottles and sticking candles in them). But still, it's fun (hell, it's Voltaire after all, what did you expect?) and some of the projects, though simple, are quite fun (I like the collection of punked-up dollies, the graveyard cake and the Hellraiser-esque picture frame particularly) so if you like your decor with a does of high camp, you might want to follow his ideas.
Next is a bit of a strange one; Go Ask Ogre by Jolene Siana, a collection of letters (and the odd journal) written by the author in her teenage years in the eighties to Nivek Ogre of Skinny Puppy. But these are no ordinary fan letters; Jolene is (or rather was) a troubled, lonely child, struggling with self-harm and verging on suicidal, bullied at school and at conflict with her mother. What start as rambling, stream of conciousness pieces (some of which can be pretty tough to read, I have to say) become increasingly frank, wise and painful as she strikes up a friendship with the singer. He encourages her to keep writing since it's clearly helping her, writing replies and meeting her at shows, and eventually, many years later in the late nineties, he sends her a parcel containing all of the letters she ever sent him, having kept every single one. Ogre's letters aren't published, apparently on his request, but she does publish her elated journal response to his first (hand written and pretty lengthy) letter, and the gist of some of their conversations in person are recorded in the same way. Now Ogre's request not to publish his replies is interesting, because let's face it most people finding the book are going to be drawn to his name, and to me it has two implications; that his letters were pretty personal and that he wanted her to remain the focus of the book, both of which I think are rather sweet.
Anyway, this is a lovely book; beautifully illustrated with Jolene's beautiful spiky doodles (even her envelopes are carefully constructed collages and elaborate drawings) along with photos of her and her friends and various flyers, ticket stubs and even pressed flowers kept as souvenirs. As her letter-writing continues her style develops into something at once very readable but also incredibly, painfully honest. She comes across as a very intelligent, very likeable and very brave person, but one very confused and more than a little lost. It's hard work, just because it's so raw, but worthwhile reading. I was drawn to this book mainly because I'd been looking for some sort of goth subculture memoir and they're pretty few and far between (which is funny considering quite how many books there are on the subject, but compare it quite how many punk memoirs there are and that's pretty strange) and this really fits the bill: Jolene's journey into the heart of the post-punk/industrial scene of the time is, to me, fascinating, and the solace it clearly gives her is wonderful. This is a book to give people who make complaints along the lines of "no wonder your depressed if you listen to music like that", because it illustrates the happiness and support that darker music can bring, that discovery that you're not the only person that thinks that way.
It's an unusual book, and, as I said, it can be pretty hard going, Jolene's descriptions of her depressions and self-harm are, though not always explicit, quite harrowing, but there's something about her and her survival spirit that is oddly uplifting. I have a feeling that this will be one of those cathartic, reassuring books that I'll drag out when I've got the Black Dog myself.
That's the main bunch of books I wanted to talk about, the others I've bought recently I haven't had time to read yet but I'll mention them anyway. I've finally managed to find a copy of Poppy Z Brite's Drawing Blood, the only one of her early novels I couldn't find. It's recently been reprinted (for the first time since it's publication) along with Lost Souls in a rather blatant attempt for Penguin to jump on the Paranormal Romance bandwagon (which amuses me endlessly, since Poppy is hardly a fluffy romance writer: her works are visceral, bloody, achingly erotic. The new cover for Lost Souls even has a chick with red lipstick on the cover. In a book almost entirely about gay and bisexual men. How thoroughly inappropriate!). I've not gotten far with it, but it's typical horror-period Poppy; not quite as extreme as Exquisite Corpse but getting there.
I also picked up, on a total whim, Japanese Ghost Stories by Catrien Ross which I'm quite excited by. Since discovering Japanese horror movies in the last few years I've become quite obsessed with Japanese folklore and this slim but rather pricey volume is full of traditional stories and pretty picutres. I love "true", folkloric ghost stories anyway, but my previous studies have mostly focused on European tales so I'm keen to explore this one.
Oh and one last thing, if you haven't read Let the Right One In yet, why not? It took me a long while to finally finish it (it's long and it's bleak), but it's a perfect novel. I don't care if you don't like horror, or you don't like vampire novels or whatever, read this book.
That's it for today, folks. Next time: mysterious charity shop garments, more Alchemy jewellery reviews, and things involving unemployment.
We'll start off with a few fun eBay finds before I forget about then completely. Looking for a quirky wedding present? How about these? Muppet-style vampire puppets with retractable fangs, customised to look like the real bride and groom. To be honest, they're damn weird looking puppets but I think the general idea is just adorable. If those are a bit out of your price range, how about this pretty dress? I've got my eye on that one at the moment. Not sure lurid purple can really be considered "Steampunk" but it's pretty, no?
Anyway, I promised pretty visuals and pretty visuals you will have. Now, regular readers will recall that I am somewhat suspicious of tumblr (like blogger only for people with shorter attention spans), partly because the site itself encourages short, insubstantial tweet-like posts and constant reposting, but also because it seems to attract pretensious and arrogant people (case in point: if you search tumblr for "goth" you end up with this bloke who clearly isn't a goth, doesn't like goths and tends to post ugly pictures of indie kids wearing black, with only the occasional eighties post punk video to redeem him). Thankfully there are some good gothy tumblrs around too. Nowthisisgothic is an excellent collection of photos and scans, never reposted from elsewhere and quite often not seen online before. She posts fabulous pictures of big-haired new wave types from the eighties and beyond.
Deathwaves post lovely pictures of deathrockers, goths and cool, often obscure, bands, with the odd song or video thrown in too. It's a good place to look for inspiration and for links to other gothy tumblrs (most of which I won't bother posting here since if you're looking for band pictures there all you need do is type "fuck yeah (name of band) tumblr" into google and see what turns up).
One blog that doesn't need much introduction is the Gothic Charm School: Pretty Things page, which does what it says on the tin really: gothy fun things posted by Gothic Charm School Headmistress and blogger extraordinaire The Lady of the Manners. She does keep going on a Haunted Mansion kick though, not sure I quite see the appeal myself.
Another queue worth keeping an eye on for band pictures is Raw Goth Insurrection, a personal tumblr kept by a punky gothy bloke from Seattle. Lots of fun pictures of crusty punk types in spiky leather jackets, lots of slightly faded scans of bands with enormous hair, lots of good tunes, lots of slightly nerdy humour.
And talking of slightly humour, I have to say I get a real kick out of LOLbadseeds, like LOLcats but with pictures of Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. There's a lot of bands whose photos lend themselves to LOL macros, why has no one thought of this before? And why, with all those silly pictures floating around, is there not a LOLDamned blog?
Oh and you know when I said there's a "fuck yeah" tumblr for pretty much anything? Well, on the plus side "anything" includes Skinny Puppy and this picture:
I'll give you a moment to absorb the sexy. Bare-chested, tattooed, long-painted-fingernailed, eyeliner-sporting, backcombed-haired, sinewy-armed sexy. Yup, I definitely have a crush on him. He's also prime Bloody Gorgeous material...
Annnnyway... Next time on postpunkpixiedust I'll be posting exciting gothy book reviews! Featuring: Gothic Charm School, Voltaire, Gavin Baddeley, Poppy Z, and Nivek Ogre! (You see, sometimes I even plan what I'm going to post.) And remember you can keep up with my less gothy reviews and rants over on my Triond page.
I'll leave you with a couple of videos for those who want to hear more of the sort of stuff I was enjoying last week at M'era Luna. Here's Unheilig, the happiest Neue Deutsche Harte band in the world with a suitably sweet song, complete with chorus of children.
I'm rather fond of Der Graf's exaggerated gestures here. And his beard.
And now, to counteract the adorable, here's some angry Laibach.
Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!
And now it's time to shut up and go and make the most of Film4's horror season (notice the use of Bauhaus on the promo video there. Everything's better with a liberal sprinkling of Bauhaus).
So, you will probably remember that last time I posted anything I was clapping my hands together in a silly fashion as I'd just secured myself some shiny tickets to renouned gothy festival M'era Luna. Well, now the silly clapping of hands has had to stop and the sleepy writing up of adventures, because obviously I can't do something exciting without plastering it all over the internet.
Anyway, I left in the evening on Thursday, after a rather embarrassing false-start due to the fact I am about as good with dates as I am with public transport. Now, bearing in mind the festival itself is over the weekend, that should give you some idea of how long the journey was: three hours on the train up to Watford, then 14-odd hours on the coach with an hour in the middle somewhere on the Eurostar to get to Hildesheim. Thankfully the journey was not as monotonous as it could be, due mainly to the fact that everyone on the bus was so lovely and friendly that we could all spend a lot of time nattering (and drinking quite a lot. I think I've drunk more over those four days than I had for the last four months put together).
Finally, after a long but reasonably comfortable journey and a brief stop-off in a German supermarket to stock up on booze and biscuits, we arrived at the festival site, an hour or so later than scheduled. That hour's difference meant a very long queue (which isn't a lot of fun while wearing a very heavy 60 litre backpack I can tell you) and a fairly full campsite; it took us a good half hour or so to get our wristbands and trudge half-way across the airfield (M'era Luna is held at Hildesheim airfield, in case you hadn't gathered) to find somewhere to pitch our tents. After another half-hour or so of frantic tent-arranging (I am still astounded at my amazing tent-errecting skills. Especially considering that my tent-demolishing skills are so impossibly weak) it was time to explore the site.
Now, I've been to a couple of festivals in the UK and generally the facilities there were pretty weak, you know the score; foul smelling portaloos, cold chips and stalls selling dubious-looking legal highs. Well, M'era Luna is not like a UK festival. It has hard-standing, flushable toilets; decent and relatively warm showers; good quality, good value food; stalls that sell interesting things worth having; regularly cleaned portaloos (complete with loo roll)... it's like the five star hotel of the festival world. The site itself is split into the campsite area, which also houses a mock pagan village and the bathroom facilities, and the festival site itself, with a selection of twenty or so stalls, a fair number of beer tents and bars and two stages; the open-air main stage and a secondary stage in an aircraft hanger. We spent most of Friday evening chilling out in the pagan village, mainly because it's there you can buy the impossibly tasty Wikinesgblut (cherry mead... possibly the yummiest alcoholic beverage I have ever tasted).
Pretty dancing ladies in the pagan village.
The pagan village was fun; lots of pretty people playing the lute and the bagpipes and fire-dancing and whatever, lots of fun stalls selling leatherwork, fancy outfits and drinking horns, there was even a blacksmith. There was a really jolly, carnival-style atmosphere there; lots of silly audience-paritipation games and the like, including a game involving sitting on a beam and hitting people with a sack.
Jenny and Mr Sticks playing the sack game. Jenny won. Three times.
Anyway, by the time it got dark we were all pretty tired, so after a few beers back at the tent it was time to call it a night. Naturally I woke up far too late the next morning, and most of the others had already gone, so I was left to shower and do silly things to my hair in my own time. Even basic things became thrillingly surreal there, just wandering around with twenty five thousand goths milling around me, or getting dressed in my tent while in the distance a band onstage were playing a cheeky industrial version of Lady Gaga's Bad Romance, it was wonderful. I can honestly say I've never seen so many goths, and it's a strangely lifestyle-affirming thing seeing the variation, the humour and the friendliness of them all. Goth is good, people, goth is very good.
So many goths!
I headed down to the hanger stage and caught my first band of the festival. I still don't know who they were, they were on instead of Qntal, but they were really very good. A cheerful neo-folk industrial outfit with bagpipes and hurdy-gurdies and suchlike, and they spent a lot of time punching the air and going "hey!" I really must find out who they were because they were great, and by the time they left the stage I had a stupid big purple-lipstick grin on my face.
All of my band pictures are horrible because my camera has severe difficulties with darkness, but anyway, this is a picture of whoever that band where.
Next up were the lovely Faith and the Muse, opening with some very dramatic drumming (using what looked to me like taiko drums but probably weren't) before Monica waltzed onstage bedecked in red and purple and singing in an exquisitely haunting manner. Their set was criminally short, and it looked like they thought they had longer too: Monica left the stage for William Faith to take up vocals for a track, then she wandered back on and announced that "apparently that's the end". The end? Already? I have no idea why they were on so early or had so short a set, they deserved to be far higher up the bill, but the snippet (about half an hour to forty five minutes) that we got was wonderful.
The blurry camera strikes again. You can just about make out Monica.
Next on in the hanger was Brendan Perry (formerly of Dead Can Dance) who has a lovely voice and makes lovely music but was a little too mellow for the claustrophobic and sweaty-hot hanger, so after a few songs I had to sneak off to explore.
Yay! The least blurry band photo so far!
Outside on the main stage, Stolen Babies were already part-way through their set. They're a slightly silly band; a little too screechy and metally for my tastes but they have a few tracks with an enjoyably dark-cabaret edge and they had some rather spiffy outfits (all of them were wearing tattered Neo-Victorian dresses, even the men). While they were thrashing about onstage, I took the opportunity to have a look around the festival area and buy some much-needed beverages and merchandise (namely a handy lanyard with a laminated programme attached to it, an umbrella which I used as a parasol for the rest of the day, and a fabulous new Sisters of Mercy t-shirt.)
Stolen Babies. Their singer is very pretty and she does a very good metal-scream. And she plays the accordion. More people should play the accordion.
There was a long wait between their set and the start of Laibach's, a wait exaggerated by technical problems and their intro looping over and over until Fras stomped grumpily offstage to grumble at the roadies. When they finally started they were excellent; moody, militaristic and theatrical, and they played Tanz Mit which always makes me happy.
I have to say I was pretty smitten with the lady on synths (I don't know her name), she spent most of the set sneering fiercely ahead and stomping her foot. Once or twice she got out a loud hailer and stomped across to Fras' mike. She was very cool and quite sexy.
Here she is with the loud hailer.
It was incredibly hot and by the time they finished, we were all starting to resemble gothic beetroots, so it was time to slink off to the beer tent as there was no one we were particualrly keen to see for a while. I could hear most of Nitzer Ebb's set from the tent, but I didn't think much of it; it wasn't exactly bad but it certainly didn't grab my attention. Thankfully the next band on, Unheilig, did grab my attention. I'd not heard of them before, but their a neue deutsche harte band along the lines of Rammstein, only much more cheerful. Cheerful to the extent that at one point the singer had everyone waving cigarette lighters around and swaying, and honestly seeing twenty thousand odd goths holding little lights and swaying was just adorable. Plus they have a song called Fur Immer which I beleive is German for "forever" but sounds a bit like "for Emma" and this makes me happy (for those readers who don't know me outside of the internet, my name is Emma; sadly I can't get a passport that says "postpunkpixie")
The crowd watching Unheilig, somewhere in between the air-punching and the lighter-waving.
I was really impressed by them. Their singer is an excellent showman, lots of running about and rallying of the audience, lots of flag-waving and what-have-you, and combined with a set designed to look like the prow of a ship and screen projecting pretty pictures and odd lyrics, it was quite a show. I definitely need to download some of their albums, and so do you. Look them up now, I'll wait for you. Found a song? Good isn't it? (If you sign up for their mailing list on their site you get a free medley. It's worth downloading)
Once they left the stage, it was time to wait for Mr Eldritch and company. It was quite a wait as, of course, some unfortunately buggers had to set up the Sisters of Mercy's enormous lighting rig, smoke machines, and the huge mass of wires and knobs that is Doktor Avalanche. And when I say enormous, I mean it: Mr Sticks and I had to spend the whole of their set wearing sunglasses (at eleven o'clock at night). Smoke utterly enshrouded the first fifteen or so rows before a group of tiny, vague figures strode onstage. Eldritch was a particularly tiny figure; short, bald and clad in a white hoodie and sunglasses, and standing with his legs so far apart he was in danger of ripping his trousers, but he sounded fabulous. Now, I've always been put off seeing the Sisters, since I've heard horrible things about their sound engineers and Eldritch's waning voice, but their show proved the difference that a good sound engineer makes. They were perfect.
Their set was a run-down of hits played in elegant arrangements: we had Marian, Dominion, Lucretia (albeit in a very shortened version), Alice, Temple of Love, and some a nifty medley version of Doctor Jeep and Detonation Boulevade that I actually preferred to the record. Needless to say, I had the biggest, silliest grin spread over my face by the time they finished.
Sunday was a far more laid-back affair, with only a handful of bands I was particularly keen to see. We started with Colony 5, who reminded me of a more repetitive version of Depeche Mode; latter-day synthpop that wasn't entirely to my taste but not bad at all. They had a lot of projections and things going on behind them that were quite interesting, one track had lots of pictures of various alternative models, and like Unheilig they had a habit of putting their lyrics up behind them, maybe it's goth karaoke.
Colony 5 with their name in the background, in case people forgot who they were.
After they finished there weren't any bands any of us where particularly fussed with, so we had a look around the stalls and grabbed some food and beer. I think we probably caught a band or so in the background but nothing that really stirred my attention away from my beer. Since there was no-one exciting on for a while, we went back to the tents for a while for a rest (several days in very large boots was getting pretty wearing) before it was time to stomp back to the hanger. On the way, we came across some elegant people on stilts in the pagan village doing a bit of a pan play. I particularly liked the unicorn lady who was scattering confetti and the butterfly lady who had dyed her tongue blue.
I caught the end of Feindflug, a rather generic stompy German industrial band, who weren't bad but weren't anything special, then slunk down toward the front for Skinny Puppy.
Sk'uppy's set was almost identical to the gig I saw last week (Ogre had the same oufit, complete with smoky hat) but minus a few tracks (the encore was shortened and Magnifishit was missing) but they were thoroughly excellent again so I can't really complain. And this time I managed to get photos too, so I'm doubly happy. I really didn't mind that it was the same show, he's such a magnetic performer I could watch him all day.
Some of my pictures even turned out visible! I can tell you're all just as shocked as I was.
The hat! I love that hat, it's somewhere between the papal tiara, a dunce's cap and a chimney stack. If only more performers would do weird performance art stuff that actually seemed to mean something.
Just after they finished Assimilate, a German fellow who'd noticed me dancing and singing along like a lunatic came over to ask what the name of the song was. He'd never heard Sk'uppy before and was loving them.
Why hello there prosthetics-less Ogre. (Yes I am developing a crush on him, why do you ask?)
Anyway, alas Sk'uppy's set had to end, and after grooving through Worlock, they left the stage. On the main stage, meanwhile, we had some equally theatrical nonsense going on thanks to thoroughly mad metallers In Extremo, who were lighting the stage up with flamethrowers and flashbangs while playing hurdy gurdies and bagpipes. I wish their set hadn't clashed with Sk'uppy because they looked like an awful lot of fun.
My scruffy Trad-goth self enjoying a pint in the beer tent while In Extremo blow things up onstage.
Sadly the festival ended on a bit of a bum note; Placebo, who I have to confess to quite liking, were plagued by the worst sound I've ever heard (worse than the Southampton Guildhall!) It moved from side to side, flickered in and out and the bass was turned up far too loud, drowning Brian Molko's lovely voice completely. It clearly was no fault of the band, apparently from the first few rows, where you could hear the monitors, they sounded great. From everywhere else the speakers rendered them painful and the festival ground soon emptied. Time, we decided, for a last glass of Wikingesblut before heading back to the tents to finish the last of the kegs of beer (and much associated silliness which is probably best kept out of the blogosphere).
Placebo: Best not enjoyed at this distance.
So... M'era Luna: probably the best fun I've had since the Pete Murphy incident, and if not, definitely the best fun I've had since uni. And definitely worth the many many long hours on the coach. Hopefully I'll have the money to do it all again next year.
I'll leave you with a little video that Howard put together, which is thoroughly brilliant. I particularly like the understatement regarding the queue for the wristbands.
And yes, I have plenty of interesting things to post in the blog in the coming weeks, and yes I promise I won't forget to post them this time.
In which the writer explains why she's been neglecting the blog again and relates a tale of her adventures last weekend...
Oh dear, I really am a lazy arse aren't I? A miasma of stress, depression and general under-the-weather-iness left me ignoring my pixie dust despite once again having a big long list of things to post. Still, let's pretend I haven't been neglectful and go straight on to blogging about nice things, shall we?
Last weekend I was lucky enough to take a trip to sunny (by which I mean humid and sweaty) London, as by happy coincidence there've been a few good gigs all at once. I wanted to stay until Monday so I could see PiL but alas I had to work, so I had to "make do" (hah) with Specimen, Gene Loves Jezebel and Skinny Puppy, which is pretty good going for one weekend.
I stayed with my lovely uncle in his beautiful house in Islington, which was again pretty damned lucky as Specimen and GLJ were playing at Slimelight, also in Islington. I'd never been to Slimes before, and to be honest the things I'd heard about it were not exactly complimentary (ie "they don't call it Slimes for nothing", "well, at least my club is clean" and "they're dress code is insane; they refused a bloke in a leather trench coat and goggles for not being goth enough"). Actually, I didn't think it was as bad as all that: it's a rabbit warren of staircases, and by the time Specimen finished my platforms were sticking to the floor a little, but it's certainly not the nastiest club I've ever been to.
For the purposes of the gig, one floor had been coverted into a surrogate Batcave; bedecked with hand-painted cobwebs, trashy plastic chandeliers and polystyrene bats, with DJs spinning the deathrockiest Trad-goth tunes I know (which was fabulolus, frankly, it's so rare to be in a club and actually hear Virgin Prunes, Siouxsie, Bauhaus and Rubella Ballet in quick succession). After a bit of sitting around and goth-watching, the support band came on, a group called Night Porter who opened with a Cramps cover so nondescript I didn't even twig there was a band on. The rest of their set was okay, and although they certainly weren't the worst support act I'd ever seen, they weren't the best either. They finished with a cover of the Doors' "Riders on the Storm" sans keyboards, which worked surprisingly well.
Waiting for Specimen themselves to dain to grace the stage, I had a quick chat with a lad with a absolutely fabulous accent who recognised me from my usual goth-haunt, Intrusion in Oxford, before it was time to sidle forward and scream excitedly at the stage. Now it's been a good few years since the Batcave shut it's doors and the Specimen boys went on to become electro-ravers and session musicians, and time hasn't been entirely kind to those big back-combed hairstyles (Jon Klein is completely bald now, and Jonny Slut's signature deathawk is replaced by close-cropped stubble) but they sounded great. They played most of the songs I know (Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Syria, Stand Up Stand Out and Sharp Teeth Pretty Teeth were definite highlights) sounding just as raw and campy as ever, with Ollie Wisdom swinging off the lighting rig, clambering over the monitors and announcing that we were all far too nice and polite, adding before the encore "see, we love you really. Honest!"
And there they are (I've found other vids on youtube but the sound quality is appalling). Is it me, or does Jon Klein look like he's been taking make-up tips from Nik Fiend there? Also, check out Jonny Slut's outfit! PVC and fishnet and platform stilettos all the way!
Their set was far too short for my liking, I would have liked a few more songs, though I suppose that's a good sign. They were really very good, recapturing all the sleazy, funny, high camp tone that they had back in the day. On the plus-side I got to extend my Specimeniness a little late while sitting around in the bar, when I realised that the chap in the stilettos on the other side of the room was none other than Jonny Slut himself. Naturally I had to make a twat of myself and timidly ask for his autograph, so now I have a shiny scrawled-on copy of Alive at the Batcave perched atop my CD player.
Next up were GLJ (or Jay Aston's Gene Loves Jezebel for those of you who live in the US) who, taking the stage at nearly midnight, weren't really suited to playing that late at night and were plagued with technical faults. Much as I like them, a lot of their stuff is a bit.... shoegazey and introspective and, after a long, hot day, shoegazy and introspective becomes soporific. I have to confess to not really being overly familiar with their back-catalogue, so a lot of the songs they played I didn't really know and couldn't name, I recognised Who Wants to Go to Heaven, Bruises, Motion of Love and, their encore and my favourite, Desire. Jay Aston is an odd one, though. GLJ are definitely an alternative band but Jay's moves wouldn't be out of place on some Guitar Hero avatar somewhere, at one point he held his guitar vertically and played a solo. Bit odd. I did quite like his quips about "same Jay different toupee" though.
Anyway, after swaying around for a while it was time to trudge home, humming to myself and rummaging through my bag to admire my new Batcave t-shirt.
The following day started nicely, with me discovering I am completely hopeless on public transport (it took me over an hour to make a ten minute journey. I am clearly not a bus person) when going to visit one of my bestest friends from uni. We went to a cute little restaurant in Holborn that specialised in okonomi -yaki (Japanese omelettes) cooked on a hot plate set into the table before going for a wander and ending up at Maison du Chocolat. I won’t bore you with the details of our lengthy conversations (most of them were either very personal or very surreal anyway), let’s just say it was good.
After a quick dash back to Islington to do strange things to my hair, it was off to Kentish Town and the London Forum, a venue that holds a very special place in my heart as the site of my infamous meeting with Mr Peter Murphy. When I arrived, the support band were already in full swing, a rock-industrial band called Hounds whose fairly enjoyable if ordinary songs were lifted by a wonderful sense of humour. Their singer, whose name escapes me, cheerfully explained that “we’re not used to playing places this big, so this is great for us” and suggested “go and have a look at our t-shirts; even if you don’t like the music you might like our t-shirts”, and before their last song added, “I know you don’t know any of our stuff, but this is our single so when I introduce it, I want you all to scream and go crazy like it’s your favourite”. That cracked me up, I have to say. Not many bands have the nerve to admit that no one knows who they are.
After Hounds left the stage, I bumped into the lad with the Brazilian accent I’d met the night before and the two of us sidled up to the front row with a couple of drinks to have a serious natter. It turned out that we’d both been at both of the Bauhaus concerts back in 2006, and so of course I had to tell him all about the Pete Murphy incident.
At last the lights went down and Cevin Key and Mark Walk came on stage to take their places behind their hulking instruments, before Nivek Ogre himself hobbled out in front, dressed like something that had escaped from a lunatic asylum in Silent Hill. He had a mask made of rags on, various straps and bandages, shoes that made him look like the Elephant Man and an enormous conical hat. In short, he looked fantastic. The majority of their set was taken from their latest album (that’s Sk’uppy’s latest album, rather than Ogre’s ohGr project), with Politikil, Magnifishit and Ugli being definite highlights, but a few earlier tracks got a look in too; Assimilate certainly got some attention since Ogre brought the conical hat back with smoke billowing out of it’s point, and thus I have dubbed it the “Assimilate Incinerate” hat.
And here's a clip of the Assimilate Incinerate hat in action.
Ogre’s stagecraft is exceptional: part of the reason I was so keen to see them live is because I wanted to see their trademark performance art schtick and they didn’t disappoint. We had projections on screens, fake blood, a cage which Ogre slunk in and out of to scrabble around and scream into the lens of a camera (which then projected onto the screen behind him, pretty nifty), and eventually Ogre’s rag mask came off to reveal a mass of prosthetics (how he copes in the heat under all that I do not know). For the encore, he ditched the prosthetics and most of the straps, gloves and assorted mcguffins, and I’m glad he did because under all that he’s quite a handsome fella! Plus, their encore included Worlock which has always been one of my favourites.
Worlock-y Ogre-sans-makeup-y goodness
I was genuinely impressed by their whole show. Ogre is very quickly rising in my estimation to one of my favourite celebrity types; he’s a frightening and powerful performer, and, from what I’ve seen of him in interviews, a really intelligent and nice guy. So, yes, two thumbs way up for them, and I can’t wait to see them again at M’era Luna, even if it’s the same setlist again.
I had to go back to gloomy Portsmouth and to work the following morning, but I don’t mind so much now I have something to look forward to: I’ve booked myself tickets to go to M’era Luna in August with a bunch of friendly gothy types who’ve booked a luxury coach down to there (and a big thank you to the lovely Mr Paul Sticks, gothy DJ and promoter, for pointing me towards them). I’m really excited, it’s going to be a fabulous excursion. The Sisters of Mercy are playing (okay Andrew Eldritch has lost his marbles and his voice but as long as they play either Alice, Marian or Lucretia I don’t care), as are Sk’uppy, Stolen Babies (a bit metal for my liking, but their Oingo Boingo-stylee keyboards are right up my alley), Brendan Perry of Dead Can Dance, Placebo (a bit indie but I’ll probably be merry enough to sing along to Nancy Boy by the time they’re on) and many more besides.
I'm still alive, incidentally. I just haven't been too well recently. Anyway, videos.
Yes that is real. Guitar Hero played with a theramin. That's some pretty nifty electronics going on there.
Talking of nifty electronics...
I don't care that you can see the puppeteers' legs, these are just adorable. They're part of the impossibly lovely Walking With Dinosaurs arena tour (and yes I am still sulking that I missed its UK tour, thanks for asking). Hats off to the very clever people who designed them and the equally clever people controlling them. (And please can we have another UK tour?)
All this hot weather has made me sick, so today instead of going to work, I trawled through the internet while sitting in bed. I'm still not that well, but now I'm distracted and unwell, which is far better. Anyway, today's link-finds do have a slightly nerdy flavour, so before I go through those, here's something for those of you who like sport and dislike sparkly vampires
Yay Courage Wolf! And while we're on the subject of Vuvuzelas, this guy made me laugh. And so did this (and wait, what's that background music? Yes it's everyone's favourite stupid LOTR remix. Ah nostalgia.)
Right, enough of that. Here's something just as silly, bt slightly less noisy: to celebrate Bruce Campbell's birthday (he of Evil Dead fame) Sci Fi Wire made some parody soup labels. I don't know about you, but those are going on all tins of soup I buy for the rest of forever.
Lastly, let me introduce you to my new favourite toy company. Funko make action figures and bobbleheads, but they now have a new line in adorable plush toys and I wants them. Just look at them! They have an Alice in Wonderland set already available, and a few slightly-less-impressive ones based on the Wizard of Oz and that icky animated "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" thing, but it's the Lord of the Rings, DC comics and Universal Monsters sets that really caught my eye. Who wouldn't want an itty bitty cuddly Mummy? Or a rather surprised-looking Flash? Or this lovely little Legolas dolly complete with itty bitty bow and itty bitty leaf brooch? Or, my personal favourite, Frodo. Have you ever seen a more adorable piece of merchandise? From October, for just $13, you too can stare gormlessly into those little button eyes.
Oh and while I'm lusting over squidgy things, have I posted this before? Based on the Big Daddy doll that one of the Little Sisters carries around in Bioshock II. So the first Bioshock was a better game, but II has better merch. Ah so many pretty things, so little space left in my bedroom...
Oh readers, I'm so sorry. Once again I have a fascinating collection of interesting links, pictures and doodahs which I've neglected to post. It's been nearly a month since I last posted anything, and I feel bad about that. Trouble is things are getting hairy at work (figuratively speaking, of course, although I did find some fursuits in wardrobe the other day and those were pretty hairy too) and things outside of work haven't been much better (although I did spend one lovely weekend with my dad watching stupid numbers of movies).
Anyway, in order to keep you busy until my lazy arse gets around to posting something more, here's one of the coolest links I've come across recently. A talented bunch of horror fans are putting together the fighting game to end all fighting games in which you can play as your favourite slasher-movie murderer and hack up other slasher-movie murderers with nifty special moves. Most of the site is still under construction, but download the demo and you can smash things up as Freddy Krueger, Leatherface, Michael Myers or Ash Williams. I haven't had a chance to download it myself, but it looks like an absolute riot and, going by the screenshots, the quality of the graphics is incredible. It's all completely free, partly because the designers are obviously very generous and partly due to copyright issues.
If you download yourself a copy before I do, do let me know if it's any good!
A couple of rapid-fire links today. One: It's towel day today, so I feel that some Douggie Adams tribute is needed
Simply because the Share and Enjoy song is one of my favourite moments in the whole series (closely matched with I teleported home one day with Ron and Sid and Meg, Ron stole Meggie's heart away and I got Sidney's leg)
First episode of the radio show with puppets and lego. Puppets and lego! Alright, I don't really get why the voice of the book is portrayed as a puppet teddy-bear-cat-thing, but the lego is fabulous. I really must listen to the radio series again.
Secondly, Doctor Steel, that wonderful lunatic who will eventually rule the world with an army of toys if he gets his own way, has released a shiny new video for Childhood (Don't) A-Go-go. It's only a quick link because someone, for some reason, keeps taking the videos down.
The first two minutes or so are rather generic industrial metal, but his signature jazz-industrial lunacy kicks in rather nicely in the second half. Looks like he's doing rather well on the army-of-toys front.
I promise I will post a blog that doesn't contain videos next time.
My Dad reads this blog. Today we went out to Salisbury to see the mighty John Cooper Clarke, punk poet extraordinaire, and over the course of a few drinks, a meal and the interval, we ended up talking about a lot of films and music, as we always do (he's useful like that, my dad, I can't talk about synthpop and punk and world cinema with my mum...or my work colleagues... or my cactus).
Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ended up mentioning some things my dad was surprisingly unaware of (Plus I just wanted to post even more videos. No I do not have an addiction to youtube.)
First on the list: Klaus Nomi. Nomi (born Sperber) was a Bavarian countertenor who moved to New York and grabbed the New Wave scene's attention by being consistently odd yet brilliant until his untimely death in 1983, leaving behind him a handful of albums and an unfinished opera.
His albums are a lot of fun; a strange mixture of humour, synths, teutonic accents and straight classical pieces (do look for his rendition of The Cold Song from Henry Purcell's King Arthur to hear him being a bit more...conventional). He's one of those musicians that I don't listen to for ages and then rediscover and listen to non-stop for a week.
Next: (yay another excuse to post something by) Virgin Prunes. Irish post-punk performance artist group, driven by Gavin Friday and Guggi. Friends with U2. Split up criminally early and refuse (quite rightly) to reform.
Part of what made them so great was their range: they could (and would) do furious atonal punky stuff, delicate ethereal laments and silly-voiced folky tracks (like Down Memory Lane) in quick succession.
Next (although I didn't mention them today, I'm fairly sure I have done at some point) Shonen Knife. Mad Japanese all-girl punk/garage group who sing about barbie dolls, cats, rocket ships and bananna chips. I love them, they're just so bloody happy. Apparently Kurt Cobain was a massive fan of them too.
And finally, just because my dad says he hasn't heard it, Gary Numan's new (ish) version of Are "Friends"Electric? everyone's favourite song about broken down robot companions. He's been doing this version with very stripped down, haunting keyboards for a good few years now and it really suits his matured voice (because let's face it everyone's voice changes as they grow older, singers are no different).
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
And just because gig-memories are good
The last gig dad and I went to was the Stranglers at the Southampton Guildhall (or "Southampton's resident wind tunnel and echo chamber" as they put it, that place is a cavern and not in a good way).
Anyway yeah. I think I'll stop it with the videos for a bit.
As you may or may not know, today is World Goth Day, and to celebrate this joyous occasion, I'm going to fill this blog post with enough goth to keep Slimelight busy for a year.
First up, though, on a semi-serious note, do go and download the Hope charity album. It includes tracks by Alien Sex Fiend, The Last Dance, Sex Gang Children, Eden House, Collide, the Mission, UK Decay, Faith and the Muse, and New Model Army, as well as specially recorded tracks by Autumn Cannibals and Uninvited Guest. It's only £8 and all money goes straight to the Sophie Lancaster Foundation. Every track was donated to the cause for free, which just goes to show what a wonderful community we alternative folks have. You have to create an account to download it but it's worth the few minutes faff.
Right, got it? Good. Now, while that downloads, let's get onto the goth.
Where better to start than with my favourite band and the one that really kicked it all off, Bauhaus. (can you really beleive that this was 4 years ago?)
Ah Peter, who art in Istanbul
Hallowed be thy cheekbones...
And now a perfect performance from Siouxsie and the Banshees: Voodoo Dolly at Cologne in 1981. Probably my favourite of their tracks.
She's incredible, isn't she?
Next... the Sisters with Marian. Perfect goth track: girl's name, melancholic lyrics, Eldritch's voice trembling on the point of tears (when you can actually hear him).... beautiful.
Now something a little more modern, Cinema Strange with a glorious live version of Greensward Grey. Lucas' vocals are astonishing
I think we need some Batcave now. Here's Alien Sex Fiend with Ignore the Machine. To me, this sums up the Goth's relationship with the mainstream; it's not about rebelling against the "norm", it's a case of not giving it any importance. Besides that, the Fiends have a great sense of humour.
Talking of the Batcave...
I want to go to a vile dress-up tea party with the Specimen boys! (Incidentally, Johnny Slut babbling in the background is hilarious. "Yay! I like tea parties")
And a bit more vintage Batcave-y goodness
More silliness... and because every goth loves irony, Thoushaltnot with If I only were a Goth
Right... maybe we're getting a bit too camp here, let's have something serious and arty
That's more like it. I just love the guitar on this track, it practically glitters.
Anyway, onward! Here's Flowers by Emilie Simon, who isn't really very goth but it's such a Tim Burton-y video, and with her lovely delicate voice over that spooky tango, it's certainly gothic.
But of course, there's more to the goth subculture than the music... even though the music will always be at the core, so...
...here's one from the Culture Show about the Whitby Weekend. (Look out for Captain Sensible in a cyber wig!)
And lastly, for anyone who's skimmed through all this with a bemused expression, here's the lovely Lady of the Manners of Gothic Charm School explaining what goth is and what it isn't.
I'll stop before I get too carried away. Have a lovely day everyone!
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