Thursday, 9 December 2010

Saturday, 27 November 2010

Friday, 19 November 2010

The Psychedelic Aliens (Ghana -1971)

"Like most stories involving aliens this one seems, well, made up. But it really happened. For a few years in the late 60's to early 70's worlds collided and aliens walked among us. And made music. This magical moment lasted for 3 short years producing only 3 releases: 1 - 4 song EP + 2 - 7"s. Today, these 3 original releases are the most sought after and most elusive African funk records. It took Frank Gossner (, Soulpusher, DJ Franco) 4 years, 9 visits to Ghana, and dozens of newspaper ads and radio announcements to track them down. Psycho African Beat is the complete recorded output of this amazing group and their unprecedented music that combined elements of American soul, funk, garage rock and psych with African rhythms and melodies." -

Thanks are due to The Wire Magazine [ ] for turning me onto this absolutely incredible band. The track in podcast is even better than this one, in my opinion. Here's the only song of theirs on youtube. Amazing stuff.

Wednesday, 10 November 2010


Florence Poppy Deary is another one of the highly valued Awkward staples. Flo is currently a student of Illustration at the University of Brighton. She has had brilliant work in both of the issues of Awkward magazine that have been published so far. If I have my way there'll be more than one piece of her's in issue 3, which is currently struggling to come together in its own inimitably snail's paced fashion.

Here is the tiny snippet of her stuff that she showed me earlier this afternoon - 

Monday, 1 November 2010

Tuesday, 26 October 2010

Thursday, 21 October 2010

Budget Cuts

Even David Shrigley is getting serious.

Thursday, 23 September 2010

Wednesday, 22 September 2010

The Internet Is Watching

- Awkward (12/09/10)
"...The email inbox for Awkward Magazine tends, for the most part, to stay relatively static... I have to admit that I rather like it this way, for instance I'm yet to receive one electronic prank call telling me that my bank account has been awarded 7 Million Pounds..."

- Mr Jerry Ntai (13/09/10)

Good Day,

Please kindly accept my apology for sending you this email without your consent. I believe you are a highly respected personality, considering the fact that I sourced your email from the peoples search database on the web during my discrete search for a foreign partner whom can assist me in taking this business to it success.Though, I do not know to what extent you are familiar with events. I have a proposal for you.This however is not mandatory nor will I in any manner compel you to honor against your will, but I hope you will read on and consider the value I offer.

My name is Mr. Jerry Ntai,I am the Head of Operations in Mevas Bank, Hong Kong. I have a business proposal in the tune of $22,700,000.00 to be transferred to an offshore account with your assistance if willing.After the successful transfer, we shall share inratio of 40% for you and 60% for me. Should you be interested, please respond to my letter immediately,so we can commence all arrangements and I will give you more information on the project and how we would handle it.

You can contact me on my private email: )
and send me the following information
for documentation purpose:

(1)Full name:
(2)Private phone number:
(3)Current residential address:
(5)Age and Sex:

I look forward to hearing from you.

Kind Regards,
Mr Jerry Ntai"



Thursday, 16 September 2010

Lucy Barfoot

Is quite funny

Man face travelling at the speed of light from Lucy Barfoot on Vimeo.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

High Fashion

"...everyone's gonna die sooner or later. That's why I love cigarettes sooo much." 

Harmony Korine's films have always been the subject of much hyperbole. He is a very interesting character who makes highly accomplished, consistently confounding work, but I'm going to resist the temptation to try and encapsulate what it is he does in those films right now though. That said, his 1997 film Gummo touched me in a way that I had never been touched by a film before. It felt like something reached into my chest and spat on my heart. Even stranger, it felt good.
This new offering is some sort of promotional film for some trendy sounding fashion designers called Proenza Schuler. It makes me feel very strange to watch it with the nagging insistency somewhere in the back of my thoughts that "This is explicitly endorsing something."

Saturday, 4 September 2010

Wednesday, 18 August 2010

Cross Pollination

The email inbox for Awkward Magazine tends, for the most part, to stay relatively static. I get the odd email from industrious artist friends like Carl Gent and Ian Pons Jewell about their exciting new projects and exhibitions, as well the occasional bona fide submission for the zine, but for the most part the communicative landscape remains fairly barren. I have to admit that I rather like it this way, for instance I'm yet to receive one electronic prank call telling me that my bank account has been awarded 7 Million Pounds, a transaction that simply requires an email reply containing the actual details of said account, plus full name, home address and birthdate for completion. The relative inactivity of the account also means that all and any correspondences are met with full care and attention, which makes events like today's all the more joyful.

I received an email this morning containing one simple question; had I heard of AWKWARD: A Detour by Mary Cappello???

I hadn't, but a quick look at the author's website made me glad that I now had.

If you're interested, have a look for yourself at

While admittedly this fanzine's content bears only an abstracted relation to its title, the eloquence Mary Cappello is using to relate her chosen subject can only help to bolster the understanding of what it is that we - Awkward Magazine - are trying to do here. I mean, Awkward (the zine) could have gone in lots of different ways. It could quite easily have turned into a comedy routine; a juxtapositional exercise in the jolt of incongruous collage; an account of its various authors' most self-conscious moments. What I happily think that it has actually become is something far harder to categorize, something like a collection of works that each don't quite fit, but are fitted, together, in some sheets of paper, and delivered to your door, for a reason that none of the involved parties quite understand in its entirety. It's this edge of understanding and comfort that I guess is the most important thing as far as Awkward is concerned. I get the impression that Mary Cappello's effort is something of a tidier, more eloquent, professional affair, being a series of memoirs and historical layers, you know, like a real proper book like wat an aktual orfar as rit, but envy aside, I really hope that there is some kinship somewhere in there somewhere between the two namesakes. 

(You'll notice that I've tried to write this post as if I know how to use language like an adult. This is of course in case she reads it. Think I've pulled it off?)

Anyway, in order to reestablish the status quo here, I think it's time for this week's youtube hit.


Wednesday, 4 August 2010

Pontus Alv

This post is about one of my favourite skateboarders of all time. His name is Pontus Alv and he is a glorious weirdo from Sweden. He's one of those (dare I say it?) neo-mythical human beings with the will, the ability, the passion, the drive and the balls to make his indelible mark on the world and then stand proudly beside it in the full light of the endless daytime that is contemporary media. 

In 2005 he released a skateboard video called The Strongest Of The Strange and I'm going to soliloquize my arse off about it right now, so skip to the end if you're prone to boredom and temporary brain death.

I went to art school and studied video art for three years. I sat through silent 2 hour Stan Brakhage films and I am still deeply in love with many of the things I saw, the experiences I had and the thoughts that I thought I thought during that period of intense revelation, experimentation and aesthetic awakening. It may sound arrogant but the reason I mention that stuff is because to me that's where TSOTS belongs, up there with the best there is. Now I'm not saying I'm right and I'm not saying that Pontus' film has the grace, concentration or esquisitely distilled quality of a Brakhage or of a John Smith or of a Maya Deren piece, but what I am saying is that it is really, really, really good. The Strongest Of The Strange isn't necessarily about process in the same way as much of the great, cannonical video and film work of the recent past. Instead it is a film about being alive and doing what you love. At the end of the day it is 'just' a skateboard video, and as such it also belongs 'down there' with your home movies, with the camera phone clips of drunk adolescent friends jumping into bushes, with the crappy iMovie edits you made at sixth form college. Of course it also belongs alongside the boundlessly beautiful video your parents shot at the hospital the day you came into the world, you know, the one where your Dad furtively wipes a tear from his eye as he gets nudged into frame. This synthesis of relation, or synergy of belonging, or cross pollination of genre, or whatever you choose to call it is part of, but not the whole reason why I feel so enamoured by Pontus' skateboard films. He includes so much of himself in the work that it becomes impossible not to judge him and the video as the same thing. Try emulating that. It's pretty fucking difficult. I think the real trick might be to remain relentlessly naked, honest and aspirational about what it is that you mean to the things, the people and the spaces around you, and to keep on doing that every single day. It's no mean feat and translating it into moving image is a whole other kettle of fish, but I'd venture to say that when you get it right, you'll know, because it feels almost exactly the same as waking up from a dream where all of your best friends were around you. The only major difference with video is that it is drawn from time and posited in potentially infinite different times, and spaces, in lots of different somewhere elses, where it sits waiting in binary form for any old Joe to come along and extract the contents, either whole or piecemeal, from inside its digital capsule, sucking what they please into their day, or their night, whenever, wherever, whyever they choose, setting it apart from the way in which we each experience each other's human times... as people, rather than as representative codes of 1's and 0's... depending on how and why and where and when you look at it... but I'm getting lost.

TSOTS is low brow and high brow. It's got this kind of foetal afterglow. If you're a real intellectual, like I so wish to become sometimes, then you should probably hate it. I mean, Charles Bukowski is just too much for a lot of serious people right? But fuck them. They don't know what they're talking about. They only know what they're going to talk about next. It's different.

This youtube clip is of Bukowski-aholic, questionably talented poet, heavily tattoed antihero type and undeniably forceful skateboarder Scott Bourne. It is his featured section from TSOTS,  a potion of which is set again one of my favourite songs by Leonard Cohen. I personally think that the introductory sequence is among the best moments in the entire film. 

Pontus' new video is called In Search Of The Miraculous. It is in all good skateshops now and can also be bought directly from Pontus himself at 

I haven't seen the new film yet but early accounts are very, very, very good. I suggest you buy it and put some hard earned Euros into the hands of someone who deserves the support, but hey, don't listen to me, I'm just a guy who gives a shit.

Monday, 19 July 2010


Christopher Wallace.

Chavs on pills

When they're not busy calling you a mincer, robbing fivers out of their granny's purse, shoplifting from JD Sports and watching everything on TV, most 'chavs', 'neds', 'townies' or whatever you choose to call them are upholding different, wider stereotypes, like the ones about drugs and 'magic', the bliss of idiocy and the feeling that we've all been helplessly at the mercy of a vast and very confusing universe since the moment we were born.

Aside from all that pretentious shit though I like this video because walking home wasted out of your face in the misty morning is a truly important thing. 

"What happens in the meadow at dawn?"

Saturday, 17 July 2010

Corporate murder demonstration in a wipe-clean castle

Don't you just love the crunch of blood-free bones? There's no guilt, no expensive and inconvenient legal proceedings, no mess, no panic and no need to claim self-defense when all you get caught doing is simultaneously hacking in half a couple of drained pig carcasses in a hygienic, sales based environment! You can even take the time to adjust your protective eyewear before plunging the enormous razor sharp phallus like an ornamental knife through warm butter deep into the skull of the large sow you've ergonomically stapled to a brand new wooden post. Luxury incarnate.

"This is why you buy a Great Sword, because you can make those HUGE cuts through flesh and bone like that... you put one of these by your front door and you're going to be a power to reckon with! NO ONE is going to be able to take advantage of you when you have a Great Sword in your house, built by Cold Steel."

The salesman repeatedly spears the disembodied bonnet of a family car with the 4ft long object d'art.

"...and THAT's what the Great Sword is all about... deep penetration..."

The cowboy boots filled with meat, the brutal skull fucking of the bleached horse head and the double swine decapitation are my personal highlights.

What's wrong with these people? 

God bless America.

Saturday, 10 July 2010


The video embedded in this probably quite laborious post comes from the original soundtrack for the 1984 film Decoder, a low budget cult affair featuring cameo appearances by the late William S. Burroughs and musician/transgenderist Genesis P. Orridge. The film is beautiful in a raw, industrio-psychedelic fashion. Both of the big cameos give pretty weird, awkward performances but it's worth watching all the same... like a decent Ballardian B-movie. It's apparently based around or 'inspired by' Burroughs's ideas about sonic virology, a concept first outlined in his seminal publication on the subversive potentialities of sound and technology, Electronic Revolution (1970). The book contains (amongst other things) ideas about the 'language virus' itself, Burroughs's cut-up method and the use of sound recording and the human voice as weapons. Richard Kirk from industrial avant-garde band Cabaret Voltaire sights Electronic Revolution as "a handbook of how to use tape recorders in a crowd … to promote a sense of unease or unrest by playback of riot noises cut in with random recordings of the crowd itself."

Steve Goodman is variously known as Professor of Musicology at The University of East London, label boss of underground U.K dance music giant Hyperdub, acclaimed electronic music producer Kode9 and as the author of  a fascinating philosophical treatise entitled Sonic Warfare (MIT Press, 2009). As Goodman terms it; we are today dealing with the dynamics and application of 'affective tonalities in the Industrial-Entertainment Complex' and 'the politics of frequency itself'. These are the kinds of ideas that Decoder sets against a backdrop of hyper-capitalist industry, impending spiritual apocalypse and ineffable individual isolation. I liked the film; the textures it deliverd, the mood it created, its lack of compromise and it's luscious low-fi, made-in-a-blacked-out-garage feel. As a student of the more subversive arts however, it disappointed me in a couple of quite important ways. Firstly, I fell asleep at least once. While this may well be 100% my fault and is certainly 100% my problem, it wasn't just my lack of zest that set me to dozing I don't think. The pretentiousness of the narrative sincerity became quite boring after a while, especially as most of the acting was so dismally guarded. The reliance on narrative in and of itself betrays a lack of conviction in the ideas that the narrative here pursues, specifically Burroughs's ideas about cut-up techniques and true deconstruction/reconstruction - to coin a phrase from Doctor T. Leary, 'pyschic imprinting' - which seem better suited to writing, musical production and more formally experimental forms of the still and moving image than to narrative cinema per se. Decoder did make me feel uneasy ; it succeeded in temporarily breaking down some of my preconditioned responses to social taboos, as well as those of my own subjectivity... but I wasn't in a crowd, and I never felt quite uneasy enough. What I think I'm trying to suggest is that the narrative form itself acted as something of a buffer against existential experience proper, keeping psychic activity just beyond arm's reach.

The editing, brutalist aesthetics and hyper-diegetic sound design were all pretty abrasive, satisfying some of the lust for sensory overload the viewer may or may not have been predisposed to. There is a prolonged  Dreammachine sequence for example; a self-hypnosis tool propounded by many a transcendentalist artist, including not insignificantly Burrough's long term partner in crime Brion Gysin, as well as by Genesis P. Orridge and the cohorts of Throbbing Gristle in the U.K in the 1970s and 80s.

The soundtrack is possibly the strongest thing about Decoder, although there are definitely some really "cool" scenes in the film. About twenty minutes in for instance, once the angst and isolation of the weirdo-protagonist have been fertilized and the fruits of rebellion begun to blossom. A mesmerizingly pretentious scene takes place wherein the junky-chic, deadpan beauty, peep show starlet girlfriend of the male lead delivers a soliloquy about the symbolic significance of the frog in the spiritual languages of the ancient world. 

"I read that they're a symbol of fertility or the amniotic fluid. For the Mayans they symbolized the vagina: Mucho."

He yawns. 

Cutting between the two faces, we see the pair each on the phone, one in blue light, one in green. 

"Got a light?" he says. 

A cigarette lighter enters from left of screen and a two-shot reveals the couple in their shared apartment room, situated like pop videos in poised pose. They've both got dark glasses on and there are frogs lolling around all over the floor, the silver futon, and the girl...

Despite my fairly directionless criticisms, it's not hard to imagine some-where, some-time, some suitably weird scenes in and outside of cinema screenings of this film. Ultimately though I'm left wanting to compare Decoder unfavourably to David Cronenberg's superb 1991 adaptation of Burroughs's famous novel Naked Lunch. The key differential is that where Decoder attempts to insert theories of Ontological Anarchy and Poetic Terrorism into a risque, cool, dirty movie, Cronenberg's Naked Lunch instead takes the 'Art' of Burroughs and emblazons it in masterfully onto controlled celluloid. Maybe that's an unfair comparison, like pitting a spirited bare-knuckle gypsy against a zen master in a game of chess boxing, but as Oscar Wilde spake through the mouth of Lord Henry, "comparisons are odious".

Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Sung by Linda McCartney

But mostly I just like the pictures.

Sunday, 4 July 2010


Awkward lives! Work is commencing on Issue 3.
Expect good things, bad things, good words about bad things, bad photos of good things and bad words about bad things.

Someone asked me earlier this week what clothes I would wear if I was a girl. Unhesitatingly I replied "PVC trousers". It was one of those things you say that elicits a quick giggle but over time reveals itself to have come straight from the heart.

Tuesday, 22 June 2010

Folk II - Issue 2 Launch Party

Z-Box loved every single second of everything.

There was some seriously high class catering and equally high class arty-farty conversation going on outside

Matt wasn't pissed in the slightest

There were smoking hot, steaming drunk girls everywhere

This guy

And lest we forget, William "DJ Dickie Darkside" Darkin, who pretty much saved the fucking day; providing apparently the only fully functional mixing desk in East London, projecting weird visuals all night, connecting pretty much every cable in the world to some electronic device or other, rolling spliffs, getting drunk out of his face, dancing like the Energiser Bunny, playing a really good dj set and helping to put everything back together again the next day. Thanks Will. 

Here's a picture of some guy swearing and probably playing something loud.
(Available for dinner parties, orgies, barbeques and weddings. Ring Terry Trotter on 0800 Love-Lumps)

(photos by Max Mallen)

This is the last load of photos from the Awkward Issue 2 launch party. I feel like I'm milking it a bit already actually. 
It was a shit load of fun and thanks a million to everyone who helped make it happen and to everyone who came along. Now if you could please buy the bloody zine because I forgot to make them available for sale at the launch party after having gathered probably dozens of potentially interested customers. I regret that. Jack Carr, quite good at writing dialogue, very bad at selling things.  I think the magazine might actually be really really good as well, so there's another reason to at least stay in touch.
See you next time.

Lakes Delay - Issue 2 Launch Party

James Carnes aka Lakes Delay played his filthy guts out. Eternal thanks.

The best-looking-groupie-on-the-block award went to Julie Beauchamp.

And I'd love to say that this was the sweat James worked up playing his set, which culminated in some unprecedented aggressive banana eating, but as true as that last bit is, I think he's sweating so much here because we'd all just been loosing our minds and shaking our asses to an hour of sweet, deep, earth shaking 80's dancehall and digital reggae thanks to the talented Luke Branston aka Cool Hand Luke, who incidentally appeared on the front cover of Awkward Issue 1.... fascinating. Luke is seriously the best DJ ever and in my opinion put pretty much everyone else to shame on the wheels of steel. Nice one boss.

(photos by Max Mallen)

Folk I - Issue 2 Launch Party

Here's me and Ian Pons Jewell looking..... awkward. Ian is one of those multi-talented people that make you feel lazy and crap at everything. I like having him around. Check out Ian's illustrated short story Soulcrunt in Awkward Issue 2, and have a peep at some of his quite frankly amazing video work over at 

Alex Milnes was there, playing all kinds of ridiculous shit as the percussionist/keyboard dude for The Old Dolphin Brigade. Alex has got two wonderful photographs in Awkward Issue 2, so buy the bloody thing and put a smile on that scrumptious little face.

Ben and Emma supplied the wicked (ware)house, about a hundred guests, a lovely, open atmosphere, 4 or 5 djs, after-party cleaning services, as well as their beautiful selves and all they got in return was this lousy blog post... oh and a short term loan of the fabled Kazoogle. The party was also in celebration of Emma's birthday as well as a launching pad for Awkward, a a fact which was largely overlooked in keeping with the distinct lack of 'magazine launching'. I think it's safe to say that everyone was far too busy enjoying themselves. Thanks guys.

Singer, sitarist extraordinare, blossoming fine artist and band leader with The Old Dolphin Brigade Carl Gent helped to kick off the evening with a pzzzchangwaaaaaaa-laaaAAA, setting the tone perfectly. The Old Dolphin Brigade played a fantastic and truly memorable set. They sounded like the inside of a toy box at night when the toys come to life and play at being The Monks doing a gig in the middle of the Gobi Desert.
You can follow Carl's numerous projects at if you like. You wont regret it, he's like a real artist or something, whatever that means.

Sergio got pretty fucking wasted after this photo was taken. He spent at least twenty minutes staring at the rain on a tree. Thanks for showing up dude.

And guest of honour, Toby Dyter, who made it all the way down from Halifax. I came across Toby as he was about to fall asleep on a grass verge with his huge feet hanging off the end and a 5 liter bottle of water at his side. I'm sure there's a passage somewhere in Zarathustra that relates to that sequence of events, but you'd have to ask him yourself.

(photos by Max Mallen)

Monday, 21 June 2010

Rosie - Issue 2 Launch Party

Behind all that hair and sweat and other fun stuff is Awkward contributor Rosemary Kirton. 

Rosie has been on board since day one and I have her artistic fervour to thank in no small part for the continuation of the zine.

Some new work of Rosie's will undoubtedly feature somewhere in Issue 3, which is coming soon to a collapsing, piss stained magazine pile next to a toilet near you! 

Currently in the works is a cartoon strip collaboration with distressingly talented painter and illustrator Ryan Humphrey ( I was introduced to Ryan's work at the recent Fine Art graduation show in Farnham at The University for the Creative Arts, where I was instantly seduced by it's simplicity, skillfulness and gallons of style. Definitely one to watch. 

(photo by Alex Milnes)

Andy - Issue 2 Launch Party

A couple of weekends ago we all got together and had a bloody great big fucking party for the launch of Issue 2.

Andrew Ferguson made a fine fine poster,

played drums for The Old Dolphin Brigade and was just generally on fine fine form all night

what a dirty little diggler  

He topped off the evening drumming up a storm in the street outside his house across the road from the party at 4 o clock in the morning. 

Action Shot!

Wednesday, 9 June 2010

Wednesday, 2 June 2010


This is just about perfect if you ask me, which you didn't.

And one more for luck because they're fucking brilliant


Monday, 31 May 2010

Louise Bourgeois (25th December 1911 - 31st May 2010)

A great artist died today. If you're not already familiar with her work, now would be as good a time as any to acquaint yourself.
Rest in peace Louise.

Saturday, 29 May 2010

Friday, 28 May 2010

Youtube recommended this video to me today.
It makes me feel sick. I really really hate it.
It made me look around the internet for what the phobia of corpses is called. Or the personification of Death. but it's none of those things. Not putrefaction itself, but the personification of our fear and denial of it, popping up out of the ground where we tried to hide it, insolent and terrible, and doing a repugnant little dance.

hugs and kisses

Tuesday, 25 May 2010

Meara Oreilly - Chladni Salt Song

Chladni Singing from meara o'reilly on Vimeo.

From the fantastic


Thursday, 20 May 2010

A Review by Samson Blond

Awkward Issue 2 -

Awkward is a book project comprised of short stories, images and little experiences that happen inside and outside the heads of the makers. What seems to be the idea behind the project is to create a collision of works, but not to have a unique theme involved. In some ways this can create difficulties in consistence and follow-ability in reading and viewing. This was seen in the previous issue, but not so much in this issue. There have been critical choices made for the Awkward audience, but how have these choices been made without a theme or context?
The direction seems to be purely a force exerted by the act of collection, the way the choices are made is curatorial rather than editorial, or like a writer working on the flow and sequence of the words rather than just the polemic. The point is not encased in themes or just one piece of work. Its point is made by its entirety, though it does seem to have two principles running through it; imagination and narrative. The way the collection is laid out seems to be much like a conventional catalogue from an exhibition, which can give a flow to the audience's thought if done well enough. In Awkward, the layout choice does give clarity to each work and does not create a feeling of being overwhelming to the viewer or singling out individual pieces of work. The idea of narrative is being used here in terms of the layout; to create a dialogue between the imaginations at work and to show a correlation or confliction of expressions effectively.
The principle of imagination is seen heavily in the majority of works. What is meant by imagination here, are those grand or epic depictions of the unbelievable that will stay unbelievable. These stories are not ‘lived’ in today's societies but some stories show the fine line between real and unreal by overlapping them. These stories do require you to use your imagination or to be a part of the writer’s, illustrators or the photographer’s imagination.
What is refreshing to see is that these tales are ‘written’ with such compulsion, that even though they are obviously budding writers, they are still able to reach into you and take you somewhere else.
This is only the second issue and so it is hard to say where it could go from here, but so far so good. In some ways this not a magazine, a fanzine or booklet but a notebook made by many people.

(Samson Blond)

Tuesday, 4 May 2010


Thursday, 29 April 2010

Awkward Issue 2 available now


150 copies of Awkward Issue 2 were sitting on my dinner table in a nice square cardboard box when I got home from work about 10 minutes ago.

I'm nervous about letting them out into the world.
I'm nervous because I'm exposing myself.
I'm nervous because I don't know what I'm doing.
I'm nervous because I put a poem of mine in there that makes me sweat with embarrassment.
I'm nervous because I really do care what you think, although I know I probably shouldn't.

"Art should be imaginative, not authoritative - kill that fearful and mawkish voice inside you that disallows poetry!" - as my very good friend Toby Dyter said to me only yesterday.

So then, Awkward Issue 2 is available as of right now. Containing documentation of the brain farts of the following fine folks:

Jane Isaac
Franciska Waskiewicz
Jack Carr
Rosemary Kirton
Andrew Carlin
Ben Powell
Alexander Milnes
Florence Poppy Deary
Javena Rahamantya Wilkinson
Andrea Kearney
Toby Dyter
Gene Limbrick
Ian Pons Jewell
Samson Blond
Ashleigh Marsh

If you'd like one, simply send £2.75 via paypal to and don't forget to add the address you'd like your copy sent to.
Get in touch about paying through any other channels, or indeed with any other currency.



As unlikely as it may seem, there does actually exist an even more enchanting version of this wonderful song, somewhere deep in my friend Luke Branston's collection of rare and excellent reggae records. Both you and I will have to make do with this youtube version for now though, because you can bet your house on the fact that he won't let anyone touch it.