stuff that mark e. smith liked.

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total recall. the movie.

italian rave music producer visnadi. (h/t simon reynolds)

scott seward, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 20:58 (one month ago) Permalink

mark s, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:03 (one month ago) Permalink


mark s, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:04 (one month ago) Permalink

The food and shops in Cardiff.

scott seward, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:07 (one month ago) Permalink

infinity (∞), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:11 (one month ago) Permalink

“He was the wild man of City - the Keith Moon of soccer - completely ungovernable. He used to vomit before every game because he was so nervous. His kit was always dirty, he used to have big boils over his face, but he was the only one who scored any goals, I used to remember him when I used to watch City in those days and they were like a team full of freaks. They still won the championship. United had millions of pounds and City had to buy blokes from Doncaster Rovers. They were a joke, but the championship was ours. Every City game I watch I think is great, but watching Coleman unhinge the United defence when we beat them 3-1 at Old Trafford was brilliant.”

Video reach stereo bog (Tom D.), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:14 (one month ago) Permalink

mark s, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:17 (one month ago) Permalink

Well bissogled trotters (Michael B), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 21:50 (one month ago) Permalink

"I used to be in the Machen Society. I started reading him when I was about sixteen. He’s one of the best horror writers ever"

the 'phet offensive (calzino), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:06 (one month ago) Permalink

mark s, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:10 (one month ago) Permalink

oops, mark s already covered Machen.

the 'phet offensive (calzino), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:11 (one month ago) Permalink

mark s, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:15 (one month ago) Permalink

"He (Leigh Bowery) would stand at the bar in this hilarious get-up ordering two pints and two whiskys, with all these hard-nut Scots staring at him. He didn’t give a fuck. He’d just nod to them and sit down.
It was a terrible shame that he died. He was very bright. Never had any money but that never deterred him: a proper artist."

the 'phet offensive (calzino), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:16 (one month ago) Permalink

serum. available

reggie (qualmsley), Wednesday, 31 January 2018 22:20 (one month ago) Permalink

(I do know that 'never leave home without' ≠ 'like' but still.)

Doran, Wednesday, 31 January 2018 23:23 (one month ago) Permalink

The Twilight Zone

Gerald McBoing-Boing, Thursday, 1 February 2018 02:45 (one month ago) Permalink

new noise, Thursday, 1 February 2018 03:30 (one month ago) Permalink

maybe mouse on mars?

“I don’t like the Mouse on Mars records, but when I saw them in London, they were desperate and fantastic. Recording an album with them [under the nom de kraut rock Von Sudenfed] was like being in one of them fucking films where you’re a prisoner of war in bloody Stalag 15. ‘You will do two vocal takes, and we will be back in two hours!’ And I wasn’t used to it. I’m used to being the boss".

kolakube (Ross), Thursday, 1 February 2018 05:07 (one month ago) Permalink

Found a date for that Portrait of the Artist as a Consumer list after not being able to find a date on it when i found it on Flicker it's from NME from 15 August 1981. I remembered it from looking through my brother's NMEs from the time over the years.

Stevolende, Thursday, 1 February 2018 08:53 (one month ago) Permalink


Arnold Schoenberg Steals (rushomancy), Thursday, 1 February 2018 14:04 (one month ago) Permalink

^save it for the "stuff john lydon likes" thread

the man from P.O.R.L.O.C.K. (Drugs A. Money), Thursday, 1 February 2018 17:39 (one month ago) Permalink

Gavin, Leeds, Thursday, 1 February 2018 18:39 (one month ago) Permalink

mark s, Thursday, 1 February 2018 20:16 (one month ago) Permalink

one month passes...

Nick Pinkerton on Maahk and the cinemaaaaah

Smith’s 2008 book Renegade, a free-associative wander through his autobiography with doggerel “tales” stuffed in its crevices, ends with the author drawing a curious comparison between his own creative approach and that of another profligate raconteur, Orson Welles. In a typically cracked, piss-taking tribute, Smith breezes through his appreciation of Welles’s films, lingering instead on outtakes of the Magnificent Ambersons director’s degrading for-hire work as a pitchman for “fishfinger and processed-pea commercials.”

“The funniest part of it is that he can’t read the script,” wrote Smith. “He needs to know the thread of the story. And he keeps asking questions like ‘Who wrote this?’ and ‘How do the fish get into the fingers?’—he’s obviously drunk and can’t grasp the fundamentals behind it… He was in another zone. Telling stories on stories until in the end he himself is a story. He didn’t seem afraid of living in that world; and it’s childish in a way, but when you can deal with it and use it, the results are evident.”

A valentine from one genuine one-off to another. The aspect of self-portraiture is clear here; in a 2011 interview Smith named Welles as one choice to play him in a biographical film—an answer changed in a later interview to Rip Torn, incorrectly presumed to be dead. If we want to carry the Welles-Smith comparison further we might note that the former radio actor and the frontman with the declamatory delivery were unparalleled in their respective art forms in the attention they gave to the voice and qualities of cadence—through the long lifespan of The Fall, during which time 60-some members passed through the band’s ranks, Smith’s spoken, slurred, and occasionally squalled delivery was the foundational rhythm instrument on which The Fall’s sound was built.

ice cream social justice (Dr Morbius), Friday, 9 March 2018 18:13 (one week ago) Permalink

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