Reading books cover to cover is something I’m not getting done at the moment. I may however persist with Ulrich Beck’s ‘World at Risk’. Handily enough Ulrich gets straight to the point on page one. Handy because I’ve not progressed much further yet.

A suicide bomber attack in which terrorists with British passports planned to blow up several passenger aircraft en route from Heathrow to the United States with liquid explosives did not occur during the summer of 2006… because British police, in cooperation with international colleagues, managed to intervene on time and arrest the suspected perpetrators. On 6 November, barely three months after the thwarted attack, a new EU-wide regulation came into force that imposes severe restrictions on the transport of liquids…

Beck’s points:

• New security clamp downs have restricted the freedoms of millions of passengers.
• The restrictions are to anticipated attacks, the likes of which have never happened.
• Like total dopes, these millions of passengers have accepted in their minds these terrorist threats and haven’t uttered a word. Clowns.

It seems our politicians, their policy advisers and the special interests who keep the whole show on the road can at a turn twist a threat, a risk, into a full risk discourse. With little debate and even less implementation friction. For the love of god. I’ll spell this out. A blown up plane takes down maybe 500 people. Do 10 simultaneously and maybe you nail 5k. That’s hardly a Book of Revelations style threat to the species. Like climate change.

Okay, here’s my point; Stern, Hansen, Gore, the IPCC, the clowns at the UEA and everyone else on the anthropocentric side of climate change are going to have to get real. We’ve got more science that we know what to do with. We’ve got millions of people around the world ‘campaigning’ on the issue. And we’ve got a big conference called COP-15 next week that is bringing just about everybody in the world with a say on climate change to the table. Yet never has there been the sudden and unilateral action on climate change mitigation equal in scale to that the small cell of potential bombmakers have had on the personal freedoms of airline travelers*. WTF!

Scientists can continue churning out data. It can be great data. It can be peer-reviewed by the finest peers in the land. Hell, we’ll even get Piers Morgan in to give it some showbiz sexing up. But unless someone (metaphorically) distills it into explosive matter capable of being hidden in shoe heels, it’s going to come to not a lot. At least not anytime soon.

It’s time to push this thing up a notch. How exactly may come to me when I get to page two of ‘World at Risk’. I’ll let you know.

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A quick BTW, here’s the other Beck (and Hansen) in my life. I’ll take the sociology over the scientology every time but great tune nevertheless.

* I appreciate we should be making flying more expensive and uncomfortable an experience, but let’s just ignore that for the sake of this small blog.

“I was in a Bedford nightclub man saw a member of the group Take That.”

If there was any justice in the world this would be Christmas number one. There isn’t, and it won’t.
Here’s the official unofficial promo:

Or view the set here on Flickr.

Big shout out to Re-Dress and Cultivate who made it happen.

It’s also a superb work of cultural anthropology as art. From the Guardian music blog:

There’s a loose chronology – northern soul, soul weekenders, casuals, acid house – but the two defining themes of the film are timeless.
Firstly, what deeply strange places nightclubs are; hundreds of strangers, all as high as kites, crammed together in a deliberately disorientating space. And secondly, how much poignancy there is in something ostensibly celebratory; the idea that “the best days of your lives” will be wiped away by a change in fashion.

Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore (Mark Leckey) from Anon. on Vimeo.

Some photos from the BUNKER at The Centre of the Universe in Dalston last week.

Copey and company bow down to the Greatest Briton (image cc Lloyd Davis)

I’ve just come across this personal account of the April 1st G20 protests from none other than Julian Cope, Liverpool post punk leftover, Krautrock boffin and the original Megalithic European.

Sorry I’m a day late with this Drudion, but I was in London yesterday at the G20 anti-Kapitalist protests that focused on the Bank of England. Unfortunately, I totally fucked up my plans through sheer yokel paranoia and came away empty handed. Intending to meet up with my dear friends, the writer Gyrus and U-Know editor Merrick, at Liverpool Street Station, at 10.30am, I left our W. Country home at 6am and was in central London just before nine. Nervous that there would be thousands of people milling about, I arrived on foot at Liverpool Street a full hour early, to be confronted by hundreds of police already in place. Of course, I was dressed extremely dodgily, with my hair up in a black wig and dressed in the kind of all-purpose rural chic that couldn’t have been further from my regular Rock God image (!). The police, however, were so fucking paranoid that they conducted a Stop & Search on me at the top of the escalators at 10.20; a full 40 minutes before the march had even started. Of course, I declined to give my name and address and, having no ID or cards on me, they detained me and wrote down a description. Unfortunately, when the main cop read on the report that I was wearing a stab vest, he came over personally and demanded to look at it. I just about managed to take the thing off without disturbing my wig, but the cop told me he believed the vest was part of a stolen consignment of police uniforms and gear, and that I’d taken off the labels to hide this fact. Kiddies, I’ve had this stab vest at least two years and wear it any time I’m in the city, but the cops just used this as an excuse to do a full body search and they soon confiscated my burka, a pair of women’s tights and all of my (expensive) police body armour. All of this occurred in full view of the general public and was clearly done just to make a show of me. When I still didn’t give my name, they sat me in a van to think about it for hours and the fucking protest went off with me detained. In the meantime, dammit, an exultant Merrick was texting me from Bishopsgate telling me the Climate Camp have taken over, while Gyrus had been penned in at the Bank of England. With hindsight, I’ll admit I looked extremely dodgy. But what got me most was how the police discovered all of my gear but still didn’t realize I was wearing a 99p black eBay wig! On the Stop & Search report I’m even described as having ‘Hair: black, short.’ I can’t show you my face on the self-portrait I took as I plan to use this disguise again in the future, but Holy McGrail referred to it as Scargill Chic and pointed out that there are clearly blonde tufts visible from underneath the rug. If McGrail could suss it from the crappy mobile phone photo (shown above), then so much for the West’s so-called War on Terror. What the fuck!

That one of England’s true rock (and I mean ‘rock’ in all senses of the word) heroes was detained at the Met’s pleasure for hours on end is galling enough but that he was recognized by none of his captors is truly an indictment on the state of policing in Britain today.

Here’s some photos of the past week in Austin.

As a follow up to my X=Mass mix special I thought I’d post up a link to ED DMX’s blog which has the makings of a brilliant podcast series. Ed’s clearly got too much time on his hands right now but don’t feel bad, it’s a win-win situation for us.

Ed’s been around to his Mum’s house and grabbed a handful of his favourite 80′s and 90′s techno and electro records from the attic. And they’re bangers. Highlights include Joey Beltram, 808 State and be sure to check out Freeez’s IOU, the Arthur Baker produced ’83 gem which comes up second on the third show.

The tunes are broken up by Ed’s monotone telling us just how much pocket money he had to save for each 12″. It really is super stuff and is exactly why these sort of Podcasts will always have a future. Tightly produced, well packaged media with a personnal slant is a winner every time. Especially if the songs are this good.

And thanks to @shitsock for the link.

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What am I thinking, content will always be king right?

2008: The Bombay Badboy Mix

Here’s my 2008 Christmas CD. The rules of engagement state:

• Each CD shall contain no more than 60 minutes of primetime sounds.
• Each CD shall feature at least one artist no longer with us and at least one artist with a fully intact mortal coil. Bonus points for an obit song or two from someone recently deceased.
• Each CD will contain at least one song released in 2008 CE.
• Each CD shall come with at least five square inches (or 300x300px) of original cover art.
• Each CD shall contain the work of an artist seen performing live by the compiler within the last 365 days.

This year I’m providing some liner notes.

1. Holy Thursday – David Axelrod
David Axelrod is the guy who got Barack Obama into the White House. He is also the guy who did the gospel/jazz/funk version of Handel’s Messiah. So take that down to Fishamble Street. I was tempted to open with the Hallelujah Chorus but I imagine everyone has had enough of that by now.

2. Moon River – Kid Koala
Part of the deal with this mix is the inclusion of a Christmas cracker. Here it is, the number one single in the UK on December 25th 1961. This isn’t the Danny Williams version but I did see Kid Koala perfom it at the Vincent Gallo ATP a few years ago. Live with four decks, pretty impressive.

3. Bridges – Utah Phillips
Utah Phillips, RIP

4. URA Fever – The Kills
Stupid name, good song.

5. Nite Flights – Fatima Mansions
Back when Ireland was a dark spit of rock on the edge of the Atlantic, it produced angry young men who formed angry young bands. Like the Fatima Mansions. Here they are doing a Scott Walker cover. Scott Walker produced and arranged one of the gigs of the year in the Royal Festival Hall. Not that I know, I wasn’t there. Anyways, if this is anything to go by here’s to Ireland returning to that dark spit of rock state.

6. Converging in the Quiet – Crystal Slits
If the Teardrop Explodes were to form again in Brooklyn in the year 2009 CE they’d sound like the Crystal Slits. As it is the Crystal Slits sound kind of like them. Or maybe just another psyche-tinged Wooden Shjips rip-off.

7. Touched – Japancakes
Japnacakes could be plying the worst form of Phil Collins-esque MOR and I’d still have bought the Touched/Soon 7″. Why? Because their name, like Japanther, is amazing. Japan+Noun-beginning-with-pan = great band name. Every time. BTW: This one is also here because My Bloody Valentine were better than could be expected upon their revival and iwasthere.

8. Reykjavik Promises – Baltic Fleet.
First off the inclusion of this track keeps the nu-gazing theme going for another couple of minutes. Second, one of the most heinous things the British government has done all year is use the anti-terrorism act to freeze a huge amount of Icelandic assets. Plunging that small Island into even more hot water than it already finds itself in. Come on Gordon, you’ve more important thinks to be worrying about.

9. Drop out – Time New Viking
I saw these guys in March, got the album, played it once and thought it was rubbish. I was wrong it’s not.

10. I’m in love with a German Film Star – Sam Taylor-Wood + The Pet Shop Boys
The Pet Shop Boys are great. According to the tabloids, STW has been spending a lot of time with an ex-husband of Madonna. That’s good enough to go in my Christmas record.

11. Waitin’ for the Rain – The Philly Sound.
So many reasons for this song being on this mix. I don’t often enjoy being outside in the rain, but in October in Philly it was about as good as it gets. It got even better when the rain cleared about 10pm and the Phillies had game 3 of the World Series in the bag by 1.30am.
The song itself is also pretty good. In the era of Motown, Philly suffered as Detroit’s poor relation despite having Bunny Siegler and The Sound of Philadelphia label going at it hammer and tongs. As Motown morphed into Disco via New York City, Philadelphia was again left out. Not to worry. This classic is regarded by everyone-who-knows as a Disco tipping point, and by many as the first every fully fledged Disco floor filler. With good reason. If you listen to nothing else on the mix skip to this.
Lazy magazine hacks who rely on creating labels and trends where only serendipity exists have claimed 08-09 London is in the midst of a full blown disco revival. Maybe they’re right (in that case thanks to Discobloodbath, Todd Hart and Matthew Stone). And maybe that’s not a bad thing. Though how nu-Disco is going to cut it in the ’09 in light of these austere post neo-liberal economic times remains to be seen. Suck it up while you can is my only advice.

Errors and ommissions.
No room for Lyrics Born. Actually I simply forgot him. He put on what was my show of the year in Austin. Top man. Also should have had an obit tip o’ the cap to Ronnie Drew and Arthur C. Clarke. Not a musician, obviously, but a little bit of Strauss in honour would have been nice. Finally, there’s nothing on there from Portishead who released in The Rip the best song I heard all year and in Third one of the best albums. But this isn’t a best of list so go out and get the record if you’ve been remiss to leave it ’til now. I hear Zavvi are having a good sale…