The Bobby Gillespie Bullshit game

"they're basically uncreative fools and I despise them" HARD CUT TO Primal Scream limp Byrds pastiche

lol I thought you were kidding but the musical clips were really that

love how the tambourine man looks like he’s dressed to offer you a cut of unseasoned beef at the end of a catered buffet dinner

> When Maradona died, I cried for three days.

i read that as Madonna. it took me until the next morning to remember that madonna hasn't died.

I only watched McGee into jangling but that’s basically the direct inspiration for the Fast Show’s “Indie Club” sketch, isn’t it.

Bold stuff, having a pop at Simon Le Bon in 1987!

Guess he didn't like Notorious

In contrast, Bobby is such a meek little soul in this video.

i feel let down that tom d refers above to 'bobby' as 'bobby' because entirely due to his posting on ilx whenever i see primal scream or mr gillespie mentioned i always think 'boaby'

Bobby had yet to blossom into Boaby.

Boaby is busy signing complementary copies of "Tenement Kid" when the phone rings, it is Thurston Moore with a proposition.

Boab: Fuckin' aye?

Thurston: Bob?

Boab: Who the fuck's this?

Thurston: It's, uh, Thurston Moore?

Boab: Sorry pal, no' ringin' any fuckin' bells.

Thurston: Thurston Moore, um, from Sonic Youth... back in the day...

Boab: Thurston Moore! Big man! How's it fuckin' hangin' mate? Whit can ah do ye for?

Thurston: Um, what it is, is I've been asked to contribute to an all-star version of the first Velvet Underground album...

Boab: ... sweet, big yin, sweet .... (*quizzically*) but how come naebody asked me?

Thurston: ... uh, that, that I don't know. As I was saying, I've been asked to contribute to this album and I'd like to ask you to...

Boab: ... say no more, big yin, say no more! Nae mair waitin' fer yer man, ah UM yer fuckin' man!

Thurston: ... yeah, well, um, I'd like us to do Heroin.

Boab (soberly): Come again?

Thurston: Heroin, I'd really like us to do Heroin.

Boab (sotto voce): Here, keep it doon, mate, the wife might be listenin'.

Thurston; Um, I want to do Heroin and I really want you to do Heroin with me.

Boab: Jesus, does mah fuckin' reputation proceed me or whit? Listen, man, ah'm no really intae that scene anymair, ah'm a respectable husband, father and soon to be published author. Talkin' o' which, wid ye be interested in readin' "Tenement Kid", my vivid and evocative memoir which is fizzing with an infectious passion for the magic of rock music...

Thurston: ... well...

Boab: ... haud oan, ah'm no feenished yet... It begins in the district of Springburn, soon to be evacuated in Edward Heath's brutal slum clearances. Leaving school at 16 and going to work as a printers' apprentice, Bobby's rock n roll epiphany arrives like a bolt of lightning shining from Phil Lynott's mirrored pickguard at his first gig at the Apollo in Glasgow. Filled with 'the holy spirit of rock n roll' his destiny is sealed with the arrival of the Sex Pistols and punk rock which to Bobby, represents an iconoclastic vision of class rebellion and would ultimately lead to him becoming an artist initially in the Jesus and Mary Chain then in Primal Scream....

Thurston: ... if I may interject...

Boab: Interject away, big yin, interject away! Ah think ye'll have goat the gist o' it by noo anyway.

Thurston: About Heroin...

Boab: ... here, ah'm no' sure aboot that.

Thurston: Don't you like Heroin?

Boab (brightly): Like it? (singing) I love it ah!

*pause*

Boab: D'ye get it? (repeating) I love it ah!

Thurston: ... um...

Boab: Ah suppose "Dreadlock Holiday" might no' huv been a hit in the States. (conspiratorily) Here, ye know how ah tell fuckin' journalists and the like that ah'm like this massive roots reggae and dub fan and ah was listenin' tae fuckin' Augustus Pablo or whoever when ah wis in short troosers? It's aw fuckin' pish, man, "Dreadlock Hole-i-day" is mah favourite reggae number tae this fuckin' day. Pure fuckin' class so it is!

Thurston: Uh, yeah, if we could get back to the album and the track I was discussing. Here's what I'll do, I'll record the backing track...

Boab (suddenly serious, nodding vigorously): ... mmm-hmm mmm-hmm...

Thurston: ... and I'll send it off to you...

Boab: ... mmm-hmm mmm-hmm...

Thurston: ... and you can add your vocals and...

Boab: ... Boab's yer uncle! Here, ah'm oan fuckin' fire the day! Though ah say so masel!

Thurston: Yeah, so, um, I'll be in touch about that.

Boab: Here's this is a fuckin' good line this!

Thurston: What?

Boab: Ah mean, it's a good line fae the States, clear as a fuckin' bell!

Thurston: Um, I'm in London, I mean I live in London.

Boab: Nae fuckin' way, ya cunt!

Thurston: Um, yes, I live in Stoke Newington.

Boab: Stokey? Get tae fuck! And how does Kim like it?

Thurston: Pardon me?

Boab: How does Kim like livin' in Stokey?

Thurston: Um, I, I really wouldn't know, listen I gotta...

Boab: Here we should meet up some time, wance this pandemic shite is oot the wey.

Thurston: Yeah, maybe...

Boab: Maybe a fuckin' foursome, you and Kim and me and the missus, ah hear the Rose & Crown does a fuckin' great Sunday roast..

Thurston: No, I, I don't see that happening.

Boab: How no'?

Thurston: I don't think you will be meeting with me and, um, Kim.

Boab: Well, jist the two o' us then, a proper lads night oot, a few swallies, the Shakespeare, Rose & Crown, Ryan's, end up in The Auld Shillelagh then a fuckin' doner.

Thurston: Well, maybe.

Boab: Here, huv you goat a wee burd oan the go that ye don't wahnt Kim tae find oot aboot, is that it?

Thurston: Now listen, I really have to go....

Boab; Nae bother, big yin, mum's the fuckin' word! Ah'm nae clipe!

Thurston: Yeah, OK, I'll be in touch.

Boab: No' if ah see you first! Naw, that disnae really work... ah said that disnae really work... oh, he's gone.

*turns to shout to wife*

Boab: Here, doll, ye'll never guess who that fuckin' wis!

A+

brilliant

great boab

Lol

extra marks for a respectable Newington Green/Stokey pub crawl itinerary.

would buy an NFT of this.

from the ever-entertaining Norman Records weekly email: "Altered Images roadie Bobby Gillespie has an autobiography out."

I saw too that Boab and his old mate Irvine Welsh were "in conversation" in this week's Observer, but I didn't have the heart to tackle it.

I'm assuming Norman Records have some old Glasgow scene guy working for them

it still rankles that Bobby made it big, as it rankles with us all

Nah, don't agree with that, it's more that he's a guy who needs his balloon burst occasionally, which would have happened a lot more regularly if he'd remained in Glasgow. My sister, who knew all the Altered Images crowd, says they used to call him wee Bobby.

hah yeah fair enough, I was joking really, he's hardly the worst but there's definitely a comical aspect to his persona that is easy to laugh at

Colin Murray has a 'Midnight Meets' podcast. Here's Bobby...

https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p09yk6b1

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2021/oct/15/tenement-kid-by-bobby-gillespie-piquantly-preposterous

Gillespie himself, a man “out there on the perimeter, on the edge of consciousness, the dark, unknown regions of soul dread and psychic derangement where the straights are too scared to go,” as he puts it, in one of a number of lines you somehow imagine not in Gillespie’s voice, but that of the late Rik Mayall.

OK, I didn't know he'd sent his kids to private school - right on, Bobby. Don't know anything about his mum but his dad was a bog standard trade union apparatchik who lost Glasgow Govan to the SNP by coming across as the worst kind of Scottish Labour "stick a rosette on a donkey" dinosaur.

Born in '61, apparently. Think i've seen '64 and '62 (Wikipedia has 62) for his DOB in different places; not the biggest deal but I've always thought of him as slightly younger than the Reid brothers for example (I know William is older but Jim too)

(Seems very Boaby to have a load of different possible birthdates out there in the wild)

the autobiography is 99p as part of uk Kindle daily deals today, almost 50 pages per penny

"Gillespie is rock and roll's Oliver Twist. A punk rock fairytale, razor sharp on class struggle, music, style, and a singular view of the world resulting in one of the world's great bands. Couldn't put down"

-- Courtney Love

Siri show me 'an almost transcendental lack of self-awareness' please. (From Bobby Gillespie's book). pic.twitter.com/EB0tGFmc7O

— ⚫Neil Kulkarni (@KaptainKulk) May 13, 2022

Is he perhaps talking about the early JAMC concerts there?

He's talking about Pete Hook.

https://www.salfordstar.com/images/l/SalfordMusicFest(1).jpg

... no mention of the chemical toilet though.

Well, it was written by a chemical toilet, so...

"as the old saying goes: pioneers take the arrows"

a bit of an overblown way of talking about needing the portaloo after Hooky has just blocked it.

My favourite defensive responses to that quote getting ridiculed are probably from aging music journalists who perhaps gave 5 star reviews to Boab at some point and feel slightly attacked by this.

Having just played a set at the Pendlebury & District Garden Fete with his latest post-New Order band, Pete Hook is sitting in a deckchair, can of Boddingtons Bitter in hand, relaxing with his fellow band members. All of a sudden a voice comes from some distance away...

Boab (for it is he): Hooky!

Pete Hook carries on conversing with whoever is playing drums with him these days.

Boab (drawing nearer): Holl'! Hooky!

Hooky (to bandmates): Oh right, here they come, anyone got a pen?

Hooky rummages through a plastic Aldi carrier bag in search of a pen, by now Boab is almost upon him.

Boab (triumphantly): Hooky! Did ye no' hear me? It's me!

Hooky (looking up): Autograph is it?

Boab (mock indignantly): Autograph! As if, big yin! (turning to Hooky's bandmates) Here, he's goat some sense o' humour, yer man, in't he?

Hooky: Have you got a, er, CD you want signed or summat?

Boab: CD? Ur ye tellin' me this fuckin' mob (jerking a thumb in the direction of the band) huv goat a CD oot? Naw, it's me! Boaby!

Hooky looks nonplussed.

Boab: Boaby fuckin' Gillespie!

Hooky pulls a face and shrugs his shoulders.

Boab: Ah, ye're at it, big yin! Boaby Gillespie fae fuckin' Primal Scream!

Hooky: Oh right, of course, yeah.. I didn't... er... recognize you, the sun was um in my eyes.

Boab: Ah jist wahnted tae say, that was fuckin' awesome, so it wis. Ye've still goat it, Hooky!

Hooky: Oh right, yeah, thanks.

Boab: It takes me back tae the first time ah saw ye play...

Hooky turns to chat to whoever is playing guitar with him these days.

Boab (continuing theatrically): ... it wis Glesga, the Apollo... (turning to a bemused elderly couple on their way to a stall selling homemade jams)... that's Green's Playhoose tae you auld yins... aye, ah remember it well...

Hooky abandons his conversation and looks up, a trifle irritated.

Boab: ... fifth o' October 1979. We went doon tae the Apollo - me, McGee, Throbert, Fat Bob, Wee Eck and Soapy Soutar - we hud tae dodge P.C. Murdoch oan the wey, went therr wi' oor schoolbags still oan. Went tae see the Buzzcoaks supportit by this new shit hot band fae Manchester, Joy Di-fuckin'-vision...

Hooky sits slumped in his deckchair.

Boab: ... we didnae know whit tae expect fae this Joy Divison mob but when yer man, Curtis, comes oot wi' his mad dancin' like he's takin' a fuckin' eppy, we're like, "Whit the fuck is this aw aboot?" Soapy Soutar didnae like it much but as wis like, "Ach, away wi' ye! This is the fuckin' bees knees so it is!"...

Hooky has pulled a floppy sun hat down over his eyes.

Boab (oblivious): ... but, tae be honest, ma eyes were drawn tae the fuckin' bass player, stood wi' his back tae the audience, arrogant and contemptuous. From seeing bands such as Suicide, the Pop Group and the Fall, ah hud developed a love for confrontational performance, the 'fuck you' - pardon ma fuckin' French - attitude that these bands possessed...

People look at their watches, a faint hint of a snore escapes from under Hooky's sun hat.

Boab (gesturing round to members of public enjoying the fete): ... audiences are sometimes like cattle, grazing idly in a field waiting tae be herded tae another field, shepherded aw' their lives, unthinking, unknowing..."

There is no question now that Hooky is loudly snoring.

Boab (still oblivious): ... artists huv tae be brave; as the auld sayin' goes: pioneers take the arrows...

Boab pauses for his audience to swim in his words. Meawhile one of Hooky's entourage has nudged him and we awakes with a start.

Hooky (blearily): .. and you still owe me a fiver , Barney, ya bastid. Oh, hello, where... what ...

His drummer points him towards Boab, who is standing, hands on hips, legs planted widely apart, in deep in contemplation.

Hooky: Right. Listen Bob, we're gonna go, sun's beginning to go behind the clouds and I've got to get back to feed my ferrets.

Boab: Oh, nae problem, big yin, it's been a fuckin' pleasure...

Hooky: Cheers.

Boab: ...the fuckin' amp wi' Guitar Nero spray painted oan it, classic...

Hooky rises arthritically from his deckchair.

Boab: .. and best of aw, the portaloo! That wis a fuckin' stroke o' genius that!

Hooky: Well, you know, when you get to my age you can't be too careful.

Boab (looking confused): Aye... well... listen ah've goat tae run masel', ah've heard the lead singer fae A Certain Ratio is judging a marrow contest in wan o' thae big fuck off tents oor therr. Ah don't wahnt tae miss that!

Hooky: Yes, well, uh, see you around.

Hooky departs.

Boab stands beaming and shouts after him.

Boab: A fuckin' portaloo! Ye've still goat it, Hooky! (to himself) Noo where's that stall that's sellin' candy floss?

lemme be the first to say that any day that starts with a new installment of the Boaby Chronicles is off to a fantastic start!

wahey!

The portaloo massacre

Hilariously good. Compile these into a fanzine and sell them at Monorail.

Though it is surprising that Boaby didn't recall the Apollo balcony bouncing up and down or the front row seats getting destroyed. Wonder if he was even there?

Haven't listened to it but I thought you might appreciate
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0n9yIMQNAmI

was this one of you lot

Remember when you’re feeling a bit down on yourself that Bobby Gillespie made 2 indie albums and got a dance remix of the third one and landed the job of deciding who and what had soul for the next 30 years. Believe in yourself. Anything is possible.

— a.remote.viewer (@anewlinerelated) January 18, 2023

tbf what Boaby is an expert in, as ILXor James Redd can confirm, is Sowel not Soul.

https://www.wordsense.eu/sowel/

https://www.wordsense.eu/sowel/

... as in "poor wee sowel". Is that link working btw?

Here's a better one.

https://www.dsl.ac.uk/entry/snd/sndns3527

I’ll no say cheese. Alricht?

While shopping in his local branch of Lidl in Brighton, Boaby spots Nick Cave and his wife.

Boab: "Holl', Nick."

Nick (to his wife): "Oh not him, he's few stubbies short of a six-pack this guy. Just keep walking, act like you never heard him."

Boab: "Nicky! (to himself) Fuckin' deef auld cunt."

Boaby speeds up almost knocking over a small child in the process.

Boab: "Nick! Haud oan therr, big yin! Christ, ah'm like fuckin' Stirling Moss here wi' this fuckin' trolley."

Nick: "Oh, it's you."

Boab: "Aye, ah course it's me."

Nick (heavy sigh): "What is it?"

Boab: "Ah've goat a bone tae pick wi' you."

Nick: "Strewth, what've have I done now?"

Boab: "Ah think you know very well whit ye've done noo!"

Nick (exasperated): "Oh not this coronation business again!"

Boab: "Aye, this coronation business! Very much this fuckin' coronation business!"

Nick: "Look, I explained it all in my blog, I've got nothing more to say on the matter".

Boab: "Like ah'm gonnae be reading your fuckin' blog! Onywey, ah've goat plenty tae say oan "this matter". Ah've goat plenty tae say aboot you arse-lickin' the fuckin' Royal fuckin' Family!"

Nick: "Look I can see you're upset..."

Boab: "Upset? Upset? How could you dae this tae... rock and roll! Tae... Brighton! Tae... yer fellow users o' hair dye!"

Nick: "I just have an inexplicable emotional attachment to the Royals – the strangeness of them, the deeply eccentric nature of the whole affair that so perfectly reflects the unique weirdness of Britain itself...”

Boab's eyes start to glaze over.

Nick (continuing): "... I’m just drawn to that kind of thing – the bizarre, the uncanny, the stupefyingly spectacular, the awe-inspiring..."

Boab (dismissively): "... ye can see aw' that oan... fuckin'... Britain's Goat Talent every fuckin' week... and Ant and Dec are oan THAT tae!"

Nick (determined to finish): "... riiiiight ... er... where was I?"

Boab: "In the middle o' sellin' oot, mate."

Nick: "Look, as well as all that guff I gave as an excuse earlier it's as simple as this: you want a knighthood, I want a knighthood ..."

Boab: "... here ah object tae that remark, ah don't wahnt any knighthood... a baronetcy aye but..."

Nick: "Listen, the PM of Oz, who is a top bloke by the way, was aaaasked to choose 14 outstanding Australians..."

Boab (cracking up): "... ye whit? Ye mean they actually managed tae find 14 outstanding Australians? Noo, ah've heard every'hin'!"

Nick: "... as I was saying, you mongrel, I was chosen to represent Oz as one of the 14 outstanding Australians and I thought, bonzer, I could go for that."

Boab: "Aye well, ye've broat disgrace tae the ageing hipster community o' Brighton - which, let's face it, is maist o' Brighton".

Nick: "Listen, mate, you're only jealous 'cuz you didn't get aaaasked by the, er, President of, er, Scotland."

Boab: "Get tae fuck, ya wide-o! Ye've fuckin' done the wrang thing and ye know ye huv... and, by the way, ye wahnt 14 outstanding Scottish people? Well whit aboot the fuckin' Scottish rugby team that fuckin' beat the English at Twickenham in the 6 Nations? No' that ah know much aboot Rugby Union..."

Nick: "... obviously not, there's 15 in a team..."

Boab: "... aye, well, ye get mah fuckin' point."

Nick: "Yeah, mate, I get your point but we're not achieving much standing in the middle of Lidl arguing about it. Now rack off ya galah, I've got heaps of shrimps to buy for the barbie."

Boab: "Right... aye well... (Boaby looks around for something to grab from the shelves) here's some fuckin' shoe polish, stick that oan yer eyebrows, 'cos yer foolin' naeb'dy ya lanky auld cunt!"

Boaby bustles off, almost knocking over the same child he'd almost knocked over earlier.

Nick: "Fuck me, talk about the pot and the kettle..."

Mrs Nick: "So that was Jason Gillespie was it?"

Nick (forcefully): "Bobby Gillespie! BOBBY Gillespie!!"

Boaby sticks his head out from behind a stack of tinned pineapples.

Boab: "Someb'dy wahntin' an autograph?"

lool! nice one

Boab, or at least the Primal Scream account retweets a lot of Novara Media stuff. It can't be that long before he get's the coveted Aaron Bastani interview.

love these posts.