Fiends; roamings; scribblings.
Let me begin, before apologising for my protracted absence, by stalling just long enough to ease a splinter from my eye. Gingerly now. A sliver of pine; an inch of sixty year old plaster.
There has been no motorcycle accident. I am not in traction. Nor have I succumbed to a bout of leather veined blackness.
Neither have I jumped ship in the dead of night to throw in my lot with the ghost of Tubby. A bullet riddled bulwark floating just off the coast of a sinking isle.
The waters are a little choppy, but the sailing is fair. Or promises to turn so once we negiotiate the dog leg. Her majesty's cannon.
There is a smell of tar and feather in the air. The ship's cat whipped and tethered to the mast.
Nine tales untold, or merely rudely stuttered.
The inky twin tower paired with ours is resigned to demolition, hobbled and bandaged and its windows gouged out. It will be blown to its foundations the first week into October; more trouble and rust.
Enough is enough.
My wife is seven months gone already - pregnant, I mean - and the case for celebration has been tempered with anxiety. We are moving. We are in the process of moving. West of the Gorbals, north of the river. We are leaving behind a blueprint of regeneration before the dust settles. Before late autumn winds gather their breath through the fall.
I am somewhat old to be starting out as a father again. I have had some practice.
The overture to a new tenancy came quite out of the blue.
It would have been churlish to refuse. Unhinged. We are trading two up in a tenement for a 22nd storey shuttle diplomacy accessible only in a steel cage. There are few seagulls where we are going, though we are close to a still functioning shipyard or two. The tenements are too squat to easily confuse with a crumbling sheer face to nest.
Where there are rats, I have glimpsed only brazen squirrels.
Of course, there remain tiny piercing doubts; at the best of times, I can scarcely put one foot in front of the other. I have invested eleven years in this grim place. Close to a life sentence, under British law.
And. I am a Taurean. My neck bristles with territorial huff.
My son took his first steps here. I will miss the uninterrupted view, even though the windows leak.
Our soon to be home needs a lot of work.
Every sheet of paper peeled away reveals an old disaster. Twice I have nearly crashed through the floorboards. I dragged 10 litres of paint through the door only to discover I had misread the label. I live in constant fear that we will not be able to meet removal costs.
Like James Brown speeding out of blacktop, I wake up at 3 AM in a cold sweat. If you have survived the horror and suspense of awaing a decision on a DWP funded Budgeting Loan you will doubtless know the script.
Some things never change.
Still, I am reeling at our good fortune. This is as close to humble as I can bear to err. I am nothing if not not a cautious motherf@cker.
So. Finally. Apologies to all those good people whose e-mails I have conscientiously avoided if not quite ignored. Audio submissions and manual labour. The deaf log is hallucinatory. Nothing is lost, I trust; no trust has been irretrievably fractured.
Let us repair. Without a surly Van.
I may lose my connection for a period, I almost certainly shall.
In the meantime, I leave you temporarily in the capable hands of sibling, Alexis Blondel. Of Year Zero. He stubbed his toe on the bleachers quite by accident.
"Sound Iration in Dub" - the digital brainchild of Nick "Manasseh" Raphael and Scruff, aka Steve Gilder - was originally released in 1989 through WAU! Mr. Modo Records; a fledgling collaboration between Youth - of Killing Joke - and The Orb's Dr. Alex Paterson.
Little Youth, if you catch my drift.
In 2010 it was reissued on a double CD, compiling 14 previously unreleased demos. Alexis informs me it is slated to make its second appearance on (180 gram) vinyl later this month. For audio purists.
You can eavesdrop on more samples via Sound Cloud, here.
Stay tuned for further - wholly erratic - transmissions.
An occasional table in transit.
▼ SOUND IRATION: MELODY ROOTS (PART 1) from "Sound Iration in Dub" LP / 2 x CD (WAU! Mr. Modo Records / Year Zero) 1989 / 2010 (UK)
