Don't mention the war

I've said it before but it bears repeating, without the support and encouragement of Dave Collins (a.k.a. Mondo)  there would be no 'Are We There Yet?' (formerly 'Even Monkeys Fall Out of Trees'). Back in 2010 his passion for all things rock and roll  - and of course the blogging 'scene' - pushed me into getting a lot of the ephemeral nonsense that had been cluttering my head onto the printed (you know what I mean) page. In particular his love of both glam rock and comic books was enough to persuade me to write about some of my own passions and obsessions. And back then blogging seemed like the perfect outlet.*

Mondo has become a good friend over the intervening years - both in the digital world and in the real world too having met up numerous times. And so when he points me in the direction of a 'good read' I always pay attention. When I said above about Mondo's love of both glam and comics then the one band that sits firmly astride both these categories, in true Venn diagram style, is KISS. Only a few weeks before I went in to hospital our Power Trio WhatApp group (Brother Mondo, Brother Steve and myself) were debating all things KISS. Yes they're silly, yes they're totally overblown and no you can't take them seriously, but... they do get under your skin. For what it's worth I think they've written six (seven at a push) good songs, but that's not the point. For instance, I was still the happiest man in the world when a couple of years ago in the States I was playing pinball on a KISS machine in a bar in Albuquerque! Life doesn't get much better than that. 

Anyway, the tome Mondo had pointed me in the direction of was (Kiss frontman) Paul Stanley's A Life Exposed. And what a terrific read it is. I was gripped from the start. Some fascinating insights into what it was like to growing up in New York in the 50s and 60s and being constantly picked on and bullied by his peers (Stanley was born without a right ear and therefore 50% deaf); then forming his first musical friendships with other like minded coves not just in his Queens neighbourhood but from other boroughs of the city too - not least a cocky bass player by the name of Chaim Witz (soon to be Gene Simmons). I'm  nearly half way thru and am now reading something which back in 2014 when it was written would have been noteworthy for sure, but fast forward ten years, and with the far right literally on the march, it's a subject that couldn't be more on point: in the book we learn that the KISS logo (as jointly designed by Stanley and guitarist Ace Freeley) is outlawed in Germany by Section 86a of the German Strafgesetzbuch (their Criminal Code); the font being alarmingly similar to the insignia of the Nazi SS. 

Stanley has always denied such symbolism (he and Simmons are both Jewish) but as with all logos (not least those that resemble Swastikas), you've got to tread very carefully. That said, take a look at the 'S' in Stanley on the book jacket. Anyway, bottom line, the band have always had a different logo for their German released albums and their touring backdrops - see below how the S's have been flattened out. A wise move. 

Another wise move, on my part anyway, was reaching the end of today's Nazi themed (loosely) blog post without once mentioning Elon Musk. D'oh! Oh, alright then, he's a cunt. And a prize cunt at that.

Until next time. 

We're not Nazis

* Still does; fifteen years later and I still love writing this blog. I may not be the most prolific blogger (I average two posts a week) but every time I sit down at my Mac to start writing I feel energised; It's a feeling that's never gone away. 

Square Route

A midweek smash and grab raid on that London yesterday. Quality time spent in the company of Brother Mondo and Brother Steve. We zoned in on some of the West One Squares with Beatles and Bowie connections. And nearby pubs too. Obvs. First, the EMI Building in Manchester Square and, just around the corner, is where David Jones was snapped reading all about it. We volunteered a German passer by, showed her Bowie's pic and asked her to recreate same; despite a bit of camera shake, I think we just about get away with it.

Staying in the same zip code you then come across Montagu Square - it's actually a rectangle - and situated at No. 34 is where John Lennon holed up for most of '68. It's not Strawberry Fields, but it's got a blue plaque outside, nonetheless. 

A huge thank you to the boys for another great trip to the capital. Let's do it again in the Summer.

"I've been in love and I've seen a lot of war"

Neil Young was one of the last turns I went to see before we left Nottingham in 2010. I think I covered it for the paper, but I can't remember now. It would've been around the time he released his 30th. studio album Le Noise. As with a lot of latter day Young, it pretty much flew under the radar - if the critics can't see a Southern Man on there or a Hey Hey, My My they tend to dismiss it. Their loss.

One day I would love to gather my thoughts on Neil Young and try and put into words what I think  makes him a true one of a kind; a maverick. But first I need to finish his autobiography which, along with about another dozen or so paperbacks, is currently weighing down my bedside table.

In the meantime, and because I heard it on RTÉ tonight while I was in the bath, here's a beautiful song from that album which harks back to a more stripped back, acoustic Neil Young and one that certainly pushes all my buttons.

Neil Young - Love and War (2010)

FYI this is post No. 1,000 to appear on my blog. Are We There Yet? (formerly Even Monkeys Fall Out Of Trees) became a thing on February 15th. 2010. And yes, I know there's a picture of Manchester City's Neil Young at the top of the page.

Soho

I'm not at liberty to divulge where I took this photograph*

With recent talks regarding a possible Anglo-Scottish Blogger Summit currently residing in the long grass, it was good to get together with the original Blogfather for a few scoops.

Picking up where we left off last October, Mondo and I decided that Soho would be the next leg on our A-Z tour of the capital. And so it was that we began our jaunt around the West End in The Ship on Wardour Street. The Ship was always the meeting point, many moons ago, before the hop, skip and a jump to the Marquee Club two doors down. The only physical surviving memory of London's finest rock venue these days being a ridiculously high blue plaque on the side of No. 90.

The White Album was recorded here

Still open nightly

After blowing the froth off a couple, we then embarked upon the well trodden path around Dean Street, Greek Street, Berwick Street, Soho Square & the myriad of side streets that link them up (rabbit holes all). The area bordering W1 & WC2 is of course still mesmeric and manages to retain a charm that won't go away, despite creeping gentrification and sanitisation -  the Italian coffee shops and clip joints may well have faded  away but I can report the traditional London boozer is still thriving!

Marquee RIP

Highlights included meeting Suggs in the French House and a cracking late afternoon drink in Trisha's, a modern day Winchester Club tucked away where only those in the know can find it. A spot of banter with Tom Parker Bowles ("Oi! Parker Bowles! No!") in the Groucho Club* while we were still kinda sober, before bookending the day back at The Ship; anchored, you could say.

I set the coordinates for home via the new all singing, all dancing Tottenham Court Road Hub and despite falling asleep on the tube, the train and in the taxi, still made it back unscathed. All in a day's work.

Thanks for another great day Mondo. Where are we going next?

Spring forward, fall back

Fall, 2017 - Grizzly

Spring, 2010 - Fresh

I treated myself on Tuesday. I let the train take the strain (1st. Class, obvs) and met my good friend Mondo. Bethnal Green at one o'clock we said; perfect for a spot of lunch at Pellicci's followed by a stroll down to Brick Lane.
I've said it before, but it's worth saying again anyway, without Mondo this blog would not have got off the ground; in 2008/2009 (when I first heard Mondo & Piley's Podrophenia podcast), after just a couple of emails I knew I was gonna get on with this fella. His passion for all things rock, and indeed roll, coupled with his guidance and encouragement helped me get this stuff out of my head and into the world we now call social media.

I went for the mixed grill and Mondo went for the chicken. Johnny Depp and Michael Gambon were no shows, but Dave Gorman was sitting next to us; not sure if he's already on their wall of fame.

To the Truman Gallery to see another mover and shaker, but not till we've shaken hands with half the East End - Mondo's treated like royalty in these parts. I just basked in his reflected glory.

The Pigeon Detectives

After conducting a four year Twitter relationship with Morgan Howell it was good to finally meet him on Monday. He was sharing the gallery with Chris Barton & Horace Panter, and together they were showing Cassette versus Vinyl; Morgan's Super Size record sleeves vied for wall space with mutant cassettes and gigantic 'button' badges.
I'd only ever seen his masterpieces on line and in Sunday supplements, so seeing them up close and personal was very special, to say the least. Morgan was very generous with his time and was great company. We talked about everything under the sun, including how to get rid of uninvited pigeons who fly into prestigious galleries.

Chris Barton was a nice fella too. He took the time to explain how he made the giant musicassettes and boxes. I wish the Number One Son had been with me at this point as laser cutters were thrown into the mix and I know James would have been all over him like a cheap suit.

Chris Barton carrying the Cash

Hunky, and indeed, Dory

A rather Special pigeon

Catch that pigeon

From the Truman Mondo then gave me a guided tour of Spitalfields pulling in a fair few hostelries. It transpires Mondo's old man was a contemporary of Ronnie and Reggie. He glossed over the finer details but, like Morgan, he painted a picture of a world that just doesn't exist anymore.
Glasses were charged and recharged, photos were taken of Spoons carpets and we swapped more rock and roll stories than you could shake a shitty stick at.
Around nine bells it was time to depart; to Liverpool St. - homeward bound. Until the next time.

Before I go, here's Mondo's latest squeeze. They're called Howling Black Soul. Check out their bass player.