england, part 4: going home + marc bolan

this is my final england installment. we only got to see 2 of the performers from the dumb cancelled festival. but it was 2 very worthwhile gentlemen, who never tour over here, so i don't feel too bad about it. no matter how bitter i may sound.

on the last day there, on the way to the airport, we took a small detour to barnes, got off the tube at east putney, and walked for a half hour in the pouring rain to queen's ride. just so that i could see marc bolan's memorial site.

hang on. back up a second. have i ever mentioned how much i love marc bolan? i know there are a bunch of freaky people out there who LOVE HIM. i hope i'm not one of them. i just, you know, love him. i mean, my blog is called "life's a gas." that's a t.rex song, people. i took a music class at college and the final project was to write a ten page paper on pretty much whatever we wanted; i chose marc bolan. when i took a short story class at college, the final project was to write a short story. i wrote a short story that was from marc bolan's point of view on the day that he died. i once dated a guy because when we first met, he mentioned t.rex and that marc bolan was his idol and he even quoted  the lyrics "i ain't no square with my corkscrew hair." that was enough for me. but mostly, i love marc because when i listen to him sing, i feel happy. it's pretty much  as simple as that. listen to "ride a white swan" and try to be sad. i dare you.

so, maybe it's a little weird that fans have set up a shrine to him at the site of the crash that killed him. but it's all we have, alright? there's a tree there that's all decorated, which is supposedly the tree that the car crashed into, but i've heard that's not true. first, i read that the tree that killed him was actually cut down, and the decorated tree is actually the one next to the deceased killer tree. confusing much? but i just read this article recently, which says it wasn't a tree at all; it was a steel-reinforced fence post that they crashed into. lovely. fair warning: that article gave me chills. i couldn't even read it all at once.

still- the shrine is set up where he died. i was standing in the same place that marc bolan took his last breath. it's incredibly sad and i felt so weird being there. i hadn't planned on going originally, because you know, there was a festival in bath we were supposed to be at. otherwise i probably would have brought a little something to leave behind. everyone does. there are trinkets set everywhere, including a feather boa around the tree, and a board set up where people hang pictures and various other things.

i don't know why people are so fascinated by death, but we are. especially tragic deaths, like this one, where he was killed 14 days before his 30th birthday in a car crash.

i guess the point of this post is to talk about marc bolan and the amount of love i have for him (it's a lot) and trying to explain the significance of going to his shrine. it is an experience that will stay with me forever. it was a very strange atmosphere, standing there under the trees, listening to the rain fall. getting completely drenched in the one and a half mile walk there and then back again was completely worth it. for me, anyway. chris seemed pretty annoyed, but who doesn't bring an umbrella to england? that's totally his fault.

i got a's on the paper and the short story, by the way.

england, part 3: records, records, and more records; or, how i spent all of my money in camden

i honestly kind of hate thinking about how much money i spent on records while i was in england because it was a lot. i've never quite caught up financially since that trip. don't get me wrong, it was one hundred percent worth it, but there is no way i can afford to do that again any time soon.

really i just want to talk about the cool shit i found there. and i would have bought a ton more records but i was able to reign it in at least a little bit. not only could i not afford to buy all the records i wanted, but we weren't staying at one place the whole time; we were sort of flying by the seats of our pants for the entire trip which meant carrying our stuff pretty much everywhere all the time.

the first record store we went to was in stoke newington, which i wrote about already; all the other ones we shopped in were in camden. there was one that was outside, set up next to a bunch of other outdoor shops. we must have been there on the right day for all that outdoor stuff. that guy had so many, SO MANY, t.rex albums. i wanted to buy like ten things but instead i bought tanx (so there is a record store near where i live that has a copy of tanx for sale; they have it priced at like $85 dollars which is absolutely preposterous. the only thing is that it has the poster which i'm probably going to steal from them sometime because i've spent so much money on their overpriced bullshit over the years) for ten pounds, without the poster, but fuck it. and also you scare me to death which i have never seen before. i think that was all i bought from that guy.

another place we went to had disguise in love by john cooper clarke and since we had just seen him and i've never seen any of his records anywhere before, i had to buy it. i also got nobody's heroes by the stiff little fingers. it appears i've never written about them in my blog before, which is pretty sad since i've seen them a bunch of times. i'll catch up someday... anyway, that was really great for me because i love that album. i also got never mind the bollocks which is something that i've seen over here in the states, but not this version; this one is the 2nd uk pressing. then i got the rich kids album, ghosts of princes in towers. i almost didn't buy it but i literally couldn't bring myself to leave it behind because it's so fucking good and i've never seen it before. that ended up being my excuse for buying pretty much everything; "i've never seen this before! i'm buying it." so i also got a couple of t.rex/marc bolan seven inch singles at this place. it was hard to decide, because there were so many of them but again with trying not to spend all of my money... i ended up with a picture disc of "you scare me to death"; "ride a white swan"/"is it love," "summertime blues"; and "sing me a song"/"endless sleep," "the lilac hand of menthol dan." pretty awesome.

there was one other store that we went in, where i got the damned's black album. i think that was the only thing i got there. i know i saved all my receipts but i have no idea where they are or if they even say exactly what i bought, but i just rifled through my records and i'm pretty sure this is everything i bought while i was over there.

i will leave you with the one...ok, two...the two records i bitterly regret leaving behind. one was machine gun etiquette by the damned; uk pressing; i think it was kind of expensive and i let chris talk me out of it, saying that he had seen copies of it back at home. BUT NOT THE UK PRESSING. ah well. then there was a copy of tyrannosaurus rex my people were fair and had sky in their hair but now they're content to wear stars on their brows / prophets seers & sages: the angels of the ages, the double album. so, i already have this but with the weird outer sleeve that isn't the actual album cover; it's this ugly colorful shit. this one was the real deal. i wanted to come back for it and the guy said he would be there the day we said we would be coming back. this was in the one record store where i got a bunch of other stuff, but it was split into floors. upstairs was where i got the sex pistols, rich kids, jcc, and slf records; the next floor down, i got all my t.rex 7" singles. below that was the tyrannosaurus rex album and wouldn't you know it, the guy didn't show up the day we came back, which was also the day we were leaving. and the guys in charge of the other floors weren't allowed to open it up for me to buy it. i was really sad. but there was a cat hanging out so i got to pet the cat and felt a little bit better. cuz i'm a crazy cat lady y'all.

england, part 2: tv smith (also captain sensible, sort of)

so there was that time that i got to see john cooper clarke and i was a giddy little girl about it. except getting back to the hotel was a total pain in the ass since we didn't know where we were. oh well.

so...er...the next day, people were flooding into london for the jubilee. we're not british, and i had no interest in sitting by the river for hours in the cold rain watching a thousand boats go by, so we decided to go to brighton. why brighton? well, chris loves the damned, possibly more than i do if you can believe it, and said "captain sensible lives in brighton; let's go there." so we did.

the weather was so shitty in london. i know that raining is typical but seriously. it sucked. we got to brighton and i think i heard angels singing. it was way warmer and the sun was shining. i follow the captain on twitter so i tweeted to him:

i didn't really expect a response from him, plus my phone was all wonky, probably because of being in another country, so i wasn't getting updates on it like i normally do. but when i did get to check back on twitter, i was pleasantly surprised:

how freaking cool is that? we were tempted to stay until the next week just to be guests of the captain at a damned show.

anyway, nothing happening in brighton, just nice weather and beachy things and the freaky hotel we stayed at that had mirrors EVERYWHERE (yes...even above the bed). we could hear the neighbors fucking. several times. i swear i would not have stayed there if i knew i would have to stare at myself everywhere i turned and listen to those awkward smacking and grunting noises, but it was the only place with a vacancy. anyway, we walked around a lot and then the next day we got on the train back to london. then got on another train to ipswich to see tv smith perform at the steamboat tavern that night.

so...if you don't know who tv smith is, he was the lead singer in the band the adverts. listen to this song and then listen to this song. and then watch this, which might be my favorite song by him (besides his xmas song) and it gives you a good idea what his live act is like. and then you should listen to everything else of his.

anyway- i'm cutting out a lot of boring things like wandering around looking for a hotel and all the fighting. so much fighting. so, we finally find a hotel and it is within walking distance of the steamboat, we find someplace to eat finally, and head out to the show. i don't want to shit talk but i was having a terrible time; part of that was due to hormones and my stupid brain but mostly it was chris. after we got to the tavern, i had to go outside to be alone for a while, where i sat on the ground behind the steamboat and just cried because i didn't know what else to do. when i came back in, chris was mad at me, so he then decided to go outside and leave me alone in there. so tv smith was just hanging out and talking to people, you know how it is in small places like that. but i was just staring at him, wondering when i would be able to talk to him; i hope you guys have noticed by now that i become a complete idiot in front of people i like. anyway, so some guy saw me and recognized me as the girl who was there with chris and pointed me out to tv, saying "she came all the way from new jersey!" (false; chris is from jersey and this guy just assumed i was too. oh well) and tv looks at me and says "oh...so that's what they look like!" i think i probably laughed? he sat down next to me (!!!) so i put aside my troubles and talked to him. i told him about how we came for the festival and he said he was very upset about it getting cancelled, too. he listened to what i was saying and talked to me like i was important, and he was really one of the most genuine people i've ever met. while we were talking, chris came back and immediately came over and interrupted my conversation, and that was that. 

alright. so, we were fighting, i kept trying not to cry, and finally i had enough and decided to give myself a little pep talk in the ladies room. "this is a once in a lifetime chance! you are in england and you are about to see tv smith perform. it's ok if chris sucks. just pretend to like him for the rest of the night. just act happy. you will be fine. everything is going to be fine." sometimes, that little voice in my head is right. i started smiling and talking to the 2 guys chris was now talking to. i don't remember their names; one of them may have been named spud. we talked about all kinds of stuff, and they were talking about the jubilee and spud kept calling the queen a bitch, and he bought me a pint of whatever he was drinking. another guy, phil, who is also a vegan, told me and chris that val at the steamboat was making her vegan chili so we would all have something to eat. i already felt more at home there than at any bar i've ever been to in the u.s.

there were a bunch of opening bands that were kind of just whatever. and eventually, tv came out and played for a long time and it was a teeny tiny little place so i could see him clearly and hear everything and it was just wonderful. he did his punk rock poem, and he did some adverts songs, and it was so fucking cool. 

after the show, i grabbed one of the flyers from the wall and went over and bought a cd and a tshirt and asked him to sign the flyer, which he did. he was very nice, as he was before, and it really made me happy. 

we stood around and talked more to the people at the show; it was a ton of older punks and i felt a) really young and b) like i was really missing out by not living there. then i saw some people taking their picture with tv and i wandered over and asked phil to take a picture of us together. he said sure, and tv put his arm around me and i mustered up the last smile i had in me; if i hadn't been so emotionally drained, that smile would have taken up my entire face.

he apologized again about the festival, and let me pick out another cd of his - for free. because that is the kind of guy that tv smith is.

all bullshit aside, this is definitely in my top ten best nights of my life.

england, part 1: intro + john cooper clarke

i'm still trying to catch up on some of the stuff i've done in the years that i've neglected my sad little blog. so, uh, i went to england last year! i've been there once before, when i was around 15 or 16, and i was in the girl scouts. yes, yes, go on and laugh, but fuck you, because i got to go to england on the girl scouts' dime. so there. and my sister was with me and we had a ton of fun being idiot tourists and i was constantly getting in trouble with our troop leaders. boy did they hate me. i know that for a fact because one of them is my brother-in-law's aunt and she has specifically said what a troublemaker i was back then. but i digress.

so: england! i will spare you the personal details because i went with my boyfriend at the time (chris); we are no longer together because we basically made each other miserable and i'm pretty sure it started on this trip. it was so bad, i very nearly had a nervous breakdown the one night we were there. so, i decided to go to england for a 3 day punk festival in bath and had already gotten my passport in order and purchased a plane ticket, etc. chris didn't want me to go alone, which i was planning on doing, so he got all his shit together and that was that.

the festival was called the last jubilee, set to go off on the queen's jubilee weekend. huzzah. i found out the day i was leaving that the festival was cancelled.
WHAT. I JUST SPENT HUNDREDS OF DOLLARS ON A FUCKING PASS AND A PLANE TICKET AND YOU CANCELLED THE FUCKING FESTIVAL.
here are the names i was most excited about from the lineup, so you can see why i was so upset:
BUZZCOCKS
HUGH CORNWELL
THE SELECTER
CHELSEA
GLEN MATLOCK
THE DAMNED
U.K. SUBS
THE VIBRATORS
TV SMITH
EDDIE & THE HOT RODS
THE REZILLOS
999
ALTERNATIVE TV
JOHN COOPER CLARKE

and that's not even the whole lineup. so yeah. we decided to go anyway and i looked up all of those bands and tried to find some other shows they would be playing in the few days we would be there so we could maybe see a fraction of the festival.

i don't really hate flying; in fact, i think taking off and landing is kind of fun. the idea of being over an ocean for like 7 hours freaks me out a little bit, but what are you going to do? that being said, OH MY GOD. have you ever been in a plane for that long? it sucks. i mean, it's pretty magical that i can get on a plane in newark, nj and get off the same plane in london. but those seats are the most uncomfortable pieces of shit and it was absolutely impossible to sleep, so by the time we got there i was delirious.

skip ahead to the fun stuff: the first day we didn't do anything except wander aimlessly, find a hotel room, and get into our first fight. then i slept for about 10 hours. it was delightful. the next day i checked my list of bands and performers from the festival. john cooper clarke was going to be performing at a library at some kind of literary festival in stoke newington. only problem? we couldn't figure out where the fuck stoke newington was. but we ended up there somehow only to find out that it was sold out. lovely. we went inside and talked to the woman taking tickets and she said someone might sell their tickets back, and in that case, we were welcome to buy them and see the show. i left my cell number with her and left feeling pretty deflated. we wandered down the street and found a record store which cheered me up a bit, especially when the guy working there put on some elvis costello. i bought magazine - real life; killing joke - killing joke; and jesus &  mary chain - automatic. when i was checking out, the guy at the register told me that the magazine record was one of his all time favorite records. anyway, so i left feeling like that trip to stoke newington wasn't a total bust. we walked back towards the venue and chris insisted on asking one more time. he went up to a different girl and asked if there were any tickets available. you know what she said? she said yes.

SHE SAID YES.

someone had just returned 2 tickets. we ran inside to the ticket lady who shouted "i was just about to call you!" we paid for the tickets and got a seat up in the balcony. another guy was talking first and reading selections from his autobiography; simon day was his name. i enjoyed his stories as well.

oh wait. do you know who john cooper clarke is? most people don't (unless you're british), and i think that is a shame. he's a punk rock poet!

watch/listen to this; this is the very first john cooper clarke i was introduced to (this track was on a punk compilation cd i bought when i was in england the first time; full circle, eh?)
then watch this. this is what it's like when he is accompanied by music.
then this, probably his most well-known poem.
then this because holy shit you guys, how awesome is this man?

so, we're sitting in the balcony, and it really hit me: i am in england and i am about to witness a performance by the one and only jcc...i felt a little woozy. he doesn't ever come to the states, so i felt really lucky to be there. the festival was cancelled, but i still get to see this guy!

he was just as fabulous as i hoped he would be. he was really silly and so adorable, with his teeny tiny pants and huge hair and sunglasses. it was everything i hoped it would be. he didn't do "kung fu international" which was a little upsetting, because like i said before, that was the first thing of his i was ever introduced to. and he didn't do "i married a monster from outer space," which is also kind of a bummer. but of course he did "evidently chickentown" and he did "hire car" and he did one that was new, about hawaiian shirts, or "tiki shirts." it was hilarious, and every time i see someone in one of those shirts i want to shout "NEVER BRIGHTEN MY DOOR AGAIN!" but then everyone would just think i'm crazy. i still giggle to myself when i think about that show. we were really lucky to get in to see him and i will never forget that night.

i'll continue this in another post because this one is already way too long.

here is my sad and shitty picture from the literary festival; i only took one picture because it was dark and i didn't want to annoy everyone by taking a million pictures, but i didn't really look as i was taking it and so the camera auto-focused on the railing which is why john is just a blurry little stick man. but you can totally tell that it's him.