Issuu on Google+


Waxxx_ad_Waxxx 20/05/2011 08:39 Page 1

Just off Bold Street... – 88 Wood Street Liverpool, UK L1 4DQ +44 (0)151 707 4464

awesome-art-hub super-screenology global-grotto peoples-playspace mega-bites 24 hour arty people

/ P. 2 - 3 /

CONTENTS • 4/ News Page

An update of what has been affecting our city/world since we last spoke to you!

• 6-7/ Ear Waxxx

Andy Hill of Abandon Silence is new to the team and talks about what you should be listening to right now.

• 8-9/ UK Festival Preview

disco teca poca 10

• 18/ Krazyhouse

The Krazyhouse conjures up images of a goth’s, mosh-pits and your token scallies on the top floor all getting fucked up within the same walls. Although it may have become a distant memory to a new hipster crowd who seek to be in the Shipping Forecast and Santa’s, it still provides many with pills, thrills and bellyaches! They have brought in new promoters who are very keen to make the venue a new fixture in alternative nightlife once again.

YES, here are four festivals that got back to us about getting press passes! Yes we are shallow little bastards, but these festivals are sure to be the best to go to in the UK this summer!

• 20-21/ The Pub Has Eyes

• 10/ Single Reviews

• 22/ The Cigarette Senate

Single reviews of The Young Knives, Anna Calvi, The Kills and CULTS.

• 11/ Album Reviews

Album reviews from Fleet Foxes to Holy Ghost and everything in between!

Ste Baxendale takes us on a bad pub guide around the city and gives us an insight into what his future may hold!!!

That awkward moment when your walking down the road and notice a gang of hood’s all gathered in your way! Do you turn back? Do you walk past? Do you surrender your belongings for an easy pass?! Andrew Flather explains why we get ourselves so worked up.

• 23/ Lark Lane

After the success of their recent live Liverpool show at MOJO, we caught up with Andy Butler and asked him about the best disco parties in NYC and also about his label MR INT.

It’s easy to get stuck in the City Centre bubble and be content with shite take-aways, cheap pint’s of Fosters and an easy shag! However, Lark Lane provides many of us with a welcome change of scenery! A little review of why you need to get off you arse and sample the delights that make up Liverpool’s more bohemian part of the city!

• 14-15/ Waxxx Events

• 24-25/ Intern-Shits

• 13/ Hercules And Love Affair

Photo’s from our Shipping Forecast/MOJO events featuring Alek Tronik, The Tea Street Band, Eastern Fidget Posse, Buddha and Montreal’s finest SUUNS.

• 16/ Liverpool Sounds Like...Africa Oye

A highlight on the Liverpool music calender which is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face. We ask the founder Paul Duhaney about what to expect this year.

• 17/ The Who?

Owen is back to talk about the struggles of making a name for his band in our cultural melting pot of a city!

disco teca poca 10

• 28-29/ Waxxx on Art

Matthew Lloyd gives us an insight into the art scene in Liverpool.

• 30-31/ Waxxx on Film

Charles Mcintyre and Sydney Fleming-Gale review Win Win and The Greatest Movie Ever Sold.

• 30-31/ Whilst You’re Waiting

Some shit which may offend or make you laugh. Whatever it does, it’s just to pass some time until your mate get’s over their placebo off shit m-cat and is telling you ‘it’s just like the old stuff’.

disco teca poca 10


Countach ITALO DISCO The Countach3DThe TheGray Countach Torino Gray Torino Gray Torino with

Internships provide the back bone for many companies as they basically get the best graduates for fuck all! Some can be worthwhile and a foot in the door, whereas others are just an exercise in making coffee vision for your records boss! Sydney Flemingclouded Gale tells us about her friends experiences!

clouded vision records


clouded vision records

• 26-27/ Photography - Corey BartleSanderson

Plus Resident is a super talented Young skater Corey Bartle-Sanderson

Mr Paul

photographer who has recently had his work displayed in a OjodePez exhibition titled ‘when we were young’ in Madrid, London and New York.

Plus Resident Plus Resident Mr Paul

Mr Paul

Fri 24thJune The Shipping Forecast

Fri 24thJune The Shipping Fri 24 June The Shipping Forecast 10pm / DOOR £2 in the HOLD FREE 3D Glasses / V 10pm / DOOR £2 in the HOLD

FREE 3D Glasses / Visual DJs / 3D Images


10pm / DOOR £2 in the HOLD

FREE 3D Glasses / Visual DJs / 3D Images

Editorial Hello. The last issue was quite negative. It was the Mother of all downers in fact. We urgently needed some kind of pick up to get us out of it and then the sun came out. Better than any legal or illegal substances, the sun made this city seem a much nicer place to live. Even a shit looks almost appetising with the sun beaming onto it. Not that this city is shit, it can just seem that way at times. For that reason, we decided to try and present a more optimistic view of Liverpool this issue, we are still sarcastic bastards and don’t pretend to like everything but we have given more credit where it belongs. We are almost a year old now and in an optimist’s point of view we have achieved quite a lot. How many eight month olds do you know that can say they’ve hosted some of the year’s best parties? None. The key has been not taking ourselves too serious and pretending to be something that were not. It’s a free magazine to have a laugh at in the pub, £3 in to our nights and a savage comedown the day after to wash it all down with. That’s it in a nutshell. Take it or leave it. Our baby may not have made us the millions we had planned, in fact no money at all, but then again it was not born with a silver spoon in it’s mouth. Over and out Waxxx XXX

Waxxx was made by:


Michael Pickard - Joshua Burke - Ricky Narito -

Sydney Fleming-Gale, Zak Jones, Andrew Hill, Andrew Flather, Chris Holland, Dave Cookson, Rupert Mountjoy, Sabastian Matthes, Joachim Treasurer, Phillip Marsden, Sophie Todd, Abby Lake, James Byrne, Rogelio Narito, Owen Rogers, Mary Kim Naylor, Joshua Burke, James Albertina, Stephen Baxendale, Corey Bartle-Sanderson, Matthew Lloyd, Charles Mcintyre, George Newman, Graeme Stanley, Robert Kingsford.

Edited By: Dave Cookson -


Cover Illustration: Amee Christian -

Thanks to: Mike Deane, Lewis Boardman, Rogelio Narito, all the attendees to our events, all the contributors.

Words: Sydney Fleming-Gale / Zak Jones Illustrations: Klaus Joynson


/ P. 4 - 5 /




As the nation became a wash with royal wedding madness earlier last month even our local public transport couldn’t resist getting on board. Merseyrail offered free travel to anyone who shared the same name as the (frankly overrated) couple on the day of their marriage. ID was needed of course but this did leave me thinking- isn’t this some kind of social apartheid? Although being born lucky does apply to all royals so I can see where Merseyrail are coming from.

As part of their Rule Britannia series VBS.TV spent ten months filming a rather inaccurate cross-section of Liverpool life. You got us there Vice magazine, take the easy option and target the WAGs and tans to make this image even harder to shed. It’s just another lazy attempt at entertainment that doesn’t show the life and culture thriving in our city but instead tells us a lot more about the slobbed out viewers gawping at their screens watching any old shit. We would do better to be associated with the historical stereotype of swag-bagged thieves– it’s the other one that’s criminal.






Speaking of Google, it was also revealed that they where targeted by a PR company for a smear campaign focused on their privacy policy. In a humorous twist it was uncovered that Facebook was actually behind the action. I’m not making this up. A company whose use of data mining (collecting stats and information on you to use for business advantage) and stated in earlier visions of their privacy policy: “We may use information about you that we collect from other sources, including but not limited to newspapers and Internet sources such as blogs, instant messaging services and other users of Facebook, to supplement your profile,” tried to undermine another company’s privacy policy. Google’s isn’t much better granted, but the hypocrisy kills me.

Are you after a killer tan for summer? Well now you can get just that with Melanotan injections. This crack-pot invention still hasn’t undergone clinical trials and will potentially turn you in to a sun-spotted, patchy, panicky wreck with side-effects including depression and nausea. The injections can even kill instantly if not used correctly. At least you will leave an impressive orange corpse.

That’s right; good old Ringo’s childhood house has been approved for demolition. This piece of news did leave me with mixed emotions to say the least. The Beatles’ cultural influence not only here but around the world is undeniable. Therefore natural instinct tells us all we should protect everything associated with their history no matter how small. Also the house in question is situated in what is known as “The Welsh streets” and is where us Welshes took refugee when we decided to grace our presence in this fair city.




That being said it is to do with Ringo Starr so I’m not sure, well, that I should care. It’s kind of like trying to look after the steering wheel to the best car in the world when the engine has already fallen out.



If owning the legal downloading market wasn’t enough Apple have now decided to launch its own free music-streaming site. Internet giants Google are also looking to get in on the act, in their own way of course (ie they can’t quite do it on their own so they’re going to try and buyout Spotify). With HMV hitting hard times and record labels struggling to stay afloat this new revelation does leave a worry: is this going help or hinder the industry? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

As gagging orders choke the entire media it recently reach new levels of chaos. Names have now been mentioned, certain celebrities deciding to sue certain people and all the while the confusion grows. I honestly don’t know what I can mention without getting into the firing line. Have I mentioned too much already? It’s possible. I’ll let you know if legal action is taken against me.



If I’m allowed.

/ P. 6 - 7 /


Words: Andrew Hill


CHIBUKU ‘END OF TERM PARTY’ FEATURING FAKE BLOOD, BENGA, DANGERMOUSE, JACK WHITE, NORAH JONES & DANIELE LUPPI – ARTWORK AND MORE – 4TH JUNE AT THE MASQUE ROME In the last couple of years there has been an uprising of the so-called ‘Super Producers’. Most works by these producers sound like a collection of singles produced for different vocalists by the producer, with the only unifying aspect being a love for noodly jazz (cough.. Ronson… cough) or pulling out ‘unexpected’ covers (cough.. Ronson.. cough) or, in fact, the fact that they’re best mates with said producer. (cough… no point anymore… cough) However, Dangermouse has bucked this trend in the last few years. Primarily, his ascension has been one to enjoy due to the fact that his intrusion into the public consciousness has been forced by the quality of his musical output. After the success of his past projects Gnarls Barkley, Dangerdoom, The Grey Album, Broken Bells and Gorillaz to name a few, he now turns his attention to an album of spaghetti western tunes with collaborators Jack White, Norah Jones and acclaimed composer Daniele Luppi. Much like the devoted Spector-ites Last Shadow Puppets’ 2007 opus, “Rome” features such barefaced admiration for the era and genre being echoed and transported to the 21st century that it really is hard not to fall in love with this collection. Even if the thought of listening to, what is in essence, a film score without an accompaniment, gives you sleepless nights, give this album and a chance and you shall be richly rewarded. Particular mention must go to stand-out tracks ‘Rose with the Broken Neck’ and ‘The World’.


It hasn’t been that long since Fake Blood last graced the Liverpool stage, he was last here supporting Annie Mac in October, yet his longevity and popularity in the city can be seen that despite all of his recent visits, he is now being bumped up to headline status at Chibuku.

LIPA student Dauwd Al Hilali has recently signed a record deal with London based tastemakers Pictures Music. Hot on the heels of their acclaimed release by Welsh producer Koreless, the promise of a 12” from Dauwd is something to look forward to.

Here at Waxxx we are firm followers and we hoped you smashed it as much as we did. As can be seen in his regular returns to our city’s largest club night, Fake Blood’s anthemic house bangers have a huge following in Liverpool.

The release contains two tracks, titled ‘It Could Be’ and ‘Shimmer’. Taking influence from contemporary artists such as Joy Orbison and Mount Kimbie, Dauwd has crafted an EP of pure beaty, with his elegance and eye for emotion marking this producer as one to keep an eye out for in the coming weeks and months.

Joining Fake Blood was Benga, Artwork, Boy-8-Bit, Bowski and local cohorts Rich Furness & MC Madrush.’

Liverpool does not have the same history as other UK cities for honing and contributing electronic producers, but a recent wave of young and exciting artists looks set to change that. Mele, SertOne and now Dauwd look set to transform the city’s soundscape, and if these artists can reciprocate the potential that they obviously have, we could be looking at a bright future.


SESSIONSFACTION.COM Liverpool’s electronic music scene has taken a hell of a battering recently. With nights dropping like flies and the cries of discontent rising higher than higher, it is certainly in a lull at the minute. To combat this ebb, Sessions Faction Radio has been set up by two of Liverpool’s most prominent resident DJs, Dalema and Dan Danko, as a method of creating a community feel in our city. They stream their weekly shows on Saturday afternoons in Djangos Riff through the blog, with other local DJs performing. Since it’s inception a few months ago, Sessions has had over 20,000 page views, an astonishing number for a blog focusing solely upon local talent. Despite the live performances only taking place each Saturday afternoon, a series of repeats are broadcast throughout the week, giving viewers a 24/7 chance to check out the sounds of Sessions Faction.

BRITNEY SPEARS – TILL THE WORLD ENDS (SALEM REMIX) Salem didn’t just highlight the witch house/drag movement, they dragged it kicking and screaming in to the public consciousness with their critically acclaimed debut LP ‘King Night’ in 2010. Add to that a string of hugely anticipated live shows and devilishly flipped remixes, and you’ve got a surefire underground sensation on your hands. Hot on the heels of fellow Drag pushers Tri Angle’s twitter based cheesy pop love in, Salem embrace their inner pop-sweetheart by deciding to create their own interpretation of Britney’s recent hit ‘Til The World Ends.’ The original featured a shockingly bad attempt at ‘filth’-style dubstep by chart-bothering producer Dr Luke, but still reached the top of the charts worldwide. As with their debut albums actions, Salem’s remix doesn’t just alter the sounds and feel of Britney’s original, it royally screws with it and leaves incomprehensible comparison. To be perfectly honest, unless someone told you this was a Britney cover, I doubt you would realise. This doesn’t take away from the quality though. Down pitching the vocals so heavy that they come out sounding male is a great choice, Salem only splice the backend of the original’s chorus against a pulsating cymbal heavy beat. A needless five second silence mid-flow aside, there is very little not to like with this track, and I believe this could be the first danceable drag track? Well, maybe that’s going too far.

Words: Andrew Hill

/ P. 8 - 9 /




Words: Andrew Flather / Chris Holland / Rupert Mountjoy / Christopher Lea Photography: Sebastian Matthes


Words: Andrew Flather / Chris Holland / Rupert Mountjoy / Christopher Lea Photography: Sebastian Matthes



It is around springtime each year when major festivals begin to announce initial acts that will grace the many stages of UK festivals during the summer. Whilst there may be the odd surprise it usually follows a standard formula: a staggering and diverse Glastonbury line-up, an inconsistent Leeds and Reading festival and an ever-shit V line up.

Dance music festivals are a dichotomy of the good and the terminally horrendous. They can be a rapturously enjoyable 48 hours of stranger-hugging good will or a god-awful nightmare filled with energetic wide-eyed lunatics, manically waving sharpened glow sticks at each other with a seemingly unlimited supply of energy.

A festival that annually arouses the more alternative music lover is All Tomorrow’s Parties. This year London’s Alexandra Palace will host ATP’s I’ll Be Your Mirror, a series of events curated by ATP and this year’s headline act: trip-hop pioneers Portishead.

Which, depending on your perspective, could be the same thing I suppose.


Taking place over the 23rd and 24th of July, Portishead will headline both nights with the help of an impressive array of supporting acts. Saturday sees Mr. Metal Face himself, MF Doom, taking to the stage in only one of four appearances across the festival circuit this summer. Opening for Doom are influential hip-hop outfit Company Flow who regrouped in 2007 and return to UK after a long hiatus. Earlier in the day DD/MM/YYYY (Canada) and BEAK> (UK) take to the stage, who shall release a split 7” next month. DD/MM/YYYY are one to watch with their weird time signatures and angular lyrical delivery, they offer a slightly refreshing take on kooky indie rock. PJ Harvey will open for Portishead. With her latest release, Let England Shake, she has cemented her place amongst the elite. Moving on from 2007’s piano-heavy White Chalk and following closer to her work with John Parish (see 2009’s excellent A Woman a Man Walked By), Let England Shake sees Polly Jean at her very best. This ATP appearance is one of her few festival appearances this year with her only other confirmed performance being at Isle of Wight’s Bestival. With Sunday comes Nick Cave with his nightmare-inducing Grinderman who released their second album last year to critical acclaim, proving that even when Mr. Cave is with his side project-alt. rock band he is producing gold. I just hope he has a moustache, as I can’t trust him without it. Sunday also sees freshly reformed Godspeed You! Black Emperor returning to the UK, having last year performed and curated ATP’s Yule event, Nightmare Before Christmas.


Your enjoyment of festivals of this sort then may depend on how far you like your face to be off your head and so, for good reason, they tend to be short. Global Gathering is a ten-year-old globe-spanning dance event which is certainly in the premier league of electro music festivals, its fifty thousand capacity make it a big one too but somehow less overwhelming than the smaller and grimier Creamfields. It’s an unashamedly snobbish dance festival which likes to distance itself from other proletariat gatherings and has positioned itself at the higher end of the market, a sort of Tesco Finest sausage against your Smart Price pig-brain and bum-hole types. Which is a good thing. The blurb for Global Gathering is all ‘finest’ this and ‘world-beating’ that and, in fairness, it does put on an impressively meaty feast. Avoiding the pop/crossover acts which often pollute less discerning festivals with a choking miasma, but still providing a decent crop of more recognised artists, it all the time provides a forum for some newer talent. This year’s headline acts include drum n’ bass peddlers Pendulum, revered veterans Underworld and Tinie Tempah. Tinie has worked hard to build a rep as a premier south-London rap midget, along the way slating the music industry for lacking passion. His integrity was tarnished somewhat by an ill-advised collaboration with faux-R&B super-villains JLS, a group as welcome as a serious typhoid outbreak, during a civil war moments before an asteroid strike. Mercifully though, they won’t be in attendance.

With 6 Music favourites Caribou, in support of their superb latest album Swim, and dream-pop duo Beach House also playing on the Sunday, you have to admit it’s a mightily impressive line-up.

Pendulum should be interesting though. You can’t deny that they are a group which have pushed back the musical brackets they were enclosed within early on in their career. Expanding their sound beyond their nu-metally roots, they’re now some sort of genre cross-dresser, both confusing and arousing.

ATP yet again provides an incredible alternative festival and with weekend tickets priced at £100 and individual day tickets at £59, you can’t really complain. Tickets are available through and

There are plenty of old favourites lined up too, like Carl Cox, John Digweed, Ferry Corsten and…er…Ms Dynamite-eee-eeeeee. They’ll be rubbing sweaty shoulders with breakthrough acts like the terrifyingly loud Chaser & Status. With over a hundred acts though, there is literally too much to see in such a small time frame but at £99, there’s little complaining to be done.





Two years ago, having been raised on a diet of Glastonbury, Reading and V Festival coverage, I wound my way down the Welsh back roads to Green Man. I found the festival equivalent of the New Slang moment in Garden State - an unpatronising, unpretentious education in some of the finest folk, electronic and alternative music I’d never heard. Then as now, the line up demonstrates that Green Man is as much to do with the band that goes onstage at midday as the one that walks offstage at midnight.

Manchester is a city that, all too often, spends its time staring backwards at the musical landscape that used to be visible from every street corner into every abandoned warehouse. So visible, apparently that you can still see unwelcome parts of it spilling over into the present. If people aren’t spending their time in chain pubs bemoaning the loss of the Stone Roses and hailing Beady Eye as “what this country needs,” then they are going to FAC51, Peter Hook’s new nightclub venture, which he, presumably, is using to raise funds to develop an aftershave based on Ian Curtis’ corpse- a smell which has hung around all of Hook’s latest creations.

This year’s headliners: Fleet Foxes, Explosions in the Sky, and Iron and Wine are amongst the more familiar acts on the line-up. They, along with Noah and The Whale, Holy Fuck, James Blake, Villagers and Bellowhead, form the vanguard of acts whose set times you’ll scribble on the back of an old shopping receipt that will inevitably become illegible when the drizzle kicks in twenty minutes after you arrive. If your knowledge of avant-garde music and emerging artists is as average as mine then it’s likely to be a fairly short list.

And as the old saying goes, “If you spend all your time listening to Manchester bands from twenty and thirty years ago, you’re going to become massively boring and nobody will want to talk to you.” This is why Parklife is such an appealing proposition. There seems to be no sniff of ageing Mancunian nostalgia and a healthier concentration on current music.

That, though, is the beauty of Green Man (aside from the more apparent beauty of the mountainous surroundings of the Brecon Beacons) – it’s almost completely about the bands you’ve never heard of. With that in mind, here are some acts lower down the bill who are worthy of a watch: Hannah Peel, who last year played an enrapturing support slot at Liverpool’s View Two Gallery; Thomas Dybdahl, the Norwegian prodigy whose folk sensitivity is meted out in pop-shaped nuggets; and Neverest Songs, a vocal and instrumental delight – the hangover heroes of the weekend, check out ‘Maria’s Clockwork Spirit’ on the Festival website.

While the line up is impressive on pretty much all fronts, the act that I’m most surprised and excited to see on the poster is DOOM. The reason this surprised me was because DOOM (aka. MF Doom aka Metal Face aka Viktor Vaughn aka King Geedorah aka The Supervillain aka the rapper with too many aliases) has only played two concerts in the UK outside of London, and they were in October last year. Seeing as DOOM has, under one stage name or another, been putting out hip hop of the highest calibre for around 20 years, I figured there would be a lengthy wait before he returned. But no! He’ll be at Platts Field park.

Extra-musically, the festival has all of the trimmings you’d expect to find at a gathering where you can only buy The Guardian: a literature tent, Druid chanting, the excellent ‘Einstein’s Garden’ and gong-bathtype hippie healing gazeboes. A standout feature of Green Man, apart from the music and frills, is the sheer variety of stuff to eat. If you’re lazy enough to buy all of your day’s meals ready-prepared then you can eat food from a different continent every noon and night. I know you’re instantly now thinking ‘this is a small scale Latitude – a 4 star hotel in a field so that the upper-middle classes can see what a festival is like’. Not so. Green Man’s comfortable spirit is the reason it pulls in so many families every year but it still remains a hot bed for brilliantly innovative live performances, epic nightly raves and grass-roots credibility. Look on the added cordon-bleu factor as a cheeky bonus! Tickets are fast-sellers owing to the small capacity, around 10,000, so it might be an exchange-site job at this point, but if you’re looking for a festival that’s big enough to be energetic but small enough to be friendly (and where there are liberal quantities of Brains SA) then there is none better.

There are also other legends of more leftfield hip hop in attendance, with Kelis and DJ Shadow - two of the most innovative voices within the genre - taking to the stage as well. Not to mention one of the founding fathers of rap, Grandmaster Flash. I don’t care who you are or what you listen to, ‘White Lines (Don’t Do It)’ will make you smile. It’s a universal law. On the more dance side of things are current champions of partying 2manydjs alongside other seasoned dancefloor magicians like Erol Alkan and Simian Mobile Disco. Whilst these big names are definitely something to get hyped up for, the line up also features some newer artists, like the very amazing Hudson Mohawke, Jamie XX, Star Slinger and others, who will soon be promoted to headline status I’m sure. In short, if you have even a passing interest in dance, hip hop or good clean fun, then you will have more than enough to keep you busy at Parklife.

/ P. 10 - 11 /


Words: Sydney Fleming-Gale / Joachim Treasurer


THE YOUNG KNIVES – HUMAN AGAIN SINGLE RELEASE 30TH MAY 2011 FROM THIRD STUDIO ALBUM ‘ORNAMENTS FROM THE SILVER ARCADE’ ‘Young’ Knives?, perhaps not but these Leicestershire lads are still coming up with the goods proving you don’t need to teach old dogs new tricks. If anything Young Knives are a great example of the need to teach the new dogs their old tricks. These guys have set the marker once again with their third studio album Ornaments from the Silver Arcade, released April 4, 2011, and managed to pull off an indie-pop anthem with Human Again. They have shed some of the trademark tweed for a fresh style outlook and it seems a fresh sound philosophy. The calypso chords and finger sliding keyboard is right on trend for this summer and is a blast from the sixties-rock past measuring up to the sounds of Holgen’s echoing guitar twangs and percussion persuasion. Human Again is guaranteed to get you in the mood for swigging rum while pogo-ing and mini clapping during the festival season. The momentary interludes may fall short of some of the ‘cool’ ease to which bands such as Deerhunter can execute but at least the Knives throw in a healthy dose of enthusiasm in a Vampire Weekend style. Classic Knives promise eccentric lyrical treats and Human Again doesn’t disappoint with gems such as ‘where the day-glo ends, there’s another one around the bend’, full of boyish charm and rhyming rhetoric. Their creative use of words lacks the attitude-filled swearing of other bands but was a useful trait for their stage appearance at Liverpool Sound City on 20th May in the Liverpool metropolitan Cathedral Crypt. All bands were asked by the Dean to respectfully leave out the ‘cuss’ words from their set songs. I think we can forgive the Knives for their tame attempt at mischievous suggestions in Human Again with ‘Your long legs are a fantasy, your big old fish a fallacy’- think they got away with it. Cuss or no cuss, one thing is for sure Human Again is the sing-a-long of the album. The catchy circle chanting of ‘Just a little bit more’ is reminiscent to the crowd pleasing ‘she’s attracted to’ from their 2006 album Voices of Animals and Men. Belting out the last note of the chorus will leave you with just enough breath to mutter the chief line ‘human again’, with the same relief and exhaustion as Henry Dartnell surrenders throughout the track. All in all the general addictive nature of this single explains why their album was chosen as BBC radio 6 album of the week. Young Knives may have created an indie-pop gem but the trio have a way to go before they reach the level of sophistication that artists like Wild Beasts are bringing to the scene, however, Human Again will be sorely missed from any summer playlist.


SINGLE TO BE RELEASED JUNE 20, 2011 SIGNED TO DOMINO RECORDS FROM THE DEBUT ALBUM ANNA CALVI RELEASED JANUARY 17, 2011 This north London song-bird shows no fear when exposing her intimate love confessions infused with a touch of darkness, and we are eating up every delicious word. Inspired by a scope of artists from experimental gypsy guitarist Django Reinhardt and classical Debussy, Anna Calvi re-invents the electric guitar to become an ‘orchestra of sound’ with fellow band mates Mally Harpaz on harmonium and percussion and Daniel Maiden-Wood on drums. The trio have created a ten-tracked wall of seductive sound to form their debut self-titled album that was released January this year and nominated for BBC’s Sound of 2011. The vintage, rockabilly sound is tinged with goth-pop, a scene which Clare Maguire and Zola Jesus are already cluttering but there is plenty of room for Calvi to show us what she has to offer. ‘Desire’ is the second single to be released from their debut album, and the most likely track to make the cross over to the mainstream market, with its devilishly addictive upbeat tone setting it apart from the other moodier tracks. Calvi doesn’t stray from the darkness as she delivers a fierce vocal performance akin to Florence and the Machine’s leading lady with all the feminine appeal of Blondie’s Debby Harry as she croons for her unrequited lust. A time and place for this track is hard to define. The intensity demands a live performance in order to take in the atmosphere of a dimly lit stage with the red lipstick, cross-dressing flamenco style of Calvi illuminated in the spotlight. Having said that this track is still guaranteed to be on most late night playlists in coming weeks and, like any memorable night of passion, it won’t be forgotten in a hurry. Romance and fluffy feelings are left behind for artists such as Emmy the Great to dwell on as Calvi seizes control with her strong, devil in disguise attitude. Just like a wave of desire, the harmonics, drums and guitar grow in intensity throughout the song building to an overwhelming, mouthwatering crescendo. The repetitive mantra of desire harks back to Heaven 17’s ‘Temptation’, emphasising the simplicity of basic instincts with a basic lyrical chant. They take the theme to another level with the defining orchestral and flamenco sounds of Calvi, heard in the stamping drums and drilling rhythms. Finished off with the backing vocals of renowned producer Brian Eno, this track makes for a satisfyingly heart racing listen that will feed your musical lust. The sweet exterior but intense core of Anna Calvi is the dark chocolate of music, you only need to sample a little and you will be hooked. You can have your taste of ‘Desire’ when it is released on June 20, 2011.



Alison Mosshart and that guy marrying Kate Moss, I mean Jamie Hince, returned in April with their fourth studio album Blood Pressures.

Ever since their emergence in the spring of last year Cults have been a bit of a conundrum. No Myspace page, barely searchable on google, they relied solely on word of mouth before people even had the tiniest idea they existed as a band. But what a good bit of word of mouth does. Now signed to Lily Allen’s label and due to release their self titled debut album in the beginning of June it seems Cults have everything to look forward to.


The second single from the Anglo-American duo’s fourth album is a welcome return to the garage blues of their first two albums and hints at a slightly more radio friendly sound than previous releases. The boy-girl format has, over the last few years, really taken off and although their relationship is plutonic – Hince’s engagement to the world’s most famous supermodel is firmly on the tabloids radar – they can still play their roles and muster up enough sexual tension for the listener to wonder whether their had been a previous fling here. Mosshart has never failed to deliver a dark overtone to her vocals and though she is slightly more restrained than previously she has still been able to keep her frustrated snarl. The duo’s voices meet up brilliantly for the chorus (You can swing, you can flail. You can blow what’s left of my right mind. I don’t mind) while Hince’s bluesy guitars are perfect for this White Stripes-esque romp. The Kills are back, and though they may not have that aggressive enigma surrounding them like they did when they first broke on to the scene, they have developed and grown and with this tune preferred their originally tried and tested sound. A welcome return.


The first single to come from the San Diego five piece’s first Album (founding members Madeline Follin and John Oblivion have now decided to expand in to a full band line up) is the perfect thing to enjoy a summery day in the park with a couple of Kopparbergs. Abducted starts with a gentle guitar riff and vocal, which makes you grab for your speakers in shock at how in audible the volume is. Then just as you’re about to switch it off in the assumption there’s something wrong with the recording the real song jump-starts and you’re exposed to an infectiously catchy girl-group sounding pop song. The punchy repetitive drumbeat coupled with the fuzzy background guitars and subtle synth over the top would even force a wry smile from the Fuhrer himself. Add to this the dimension of having both male and female vocals inter change throughout the track and you have this summers perfect love song. Whether they reach the heights all their hype and, dare I say it, cult following anticipates is yet to be seen. Whatever the future holds for them they can be proud of this well constructed twee happy go lucky love song.


Words: Sydney Fleming-Gale / Chris Holland / Charles McIntyre / Dave Cookson




The better sons of nu rave – Friendly Fires – are back. Bloody hell, it’s colourful. They’ve only gone and stuck their own flipping flapping Friendly Fire macaw on the frigging cover haven’t they?

These outspoken Stockton-On-Tees boys are fond namesakes to murderer Mark Chapman, all adopting the name due to a mutual disdain for John Lennon (careful there, that’s one of our local boys). They have been on the scene since 2006 but have turned the lights down since their signature single release of ‘Kids’ for a darker image complete with blackened hair and sexual predator stares. The indie come post-punk quartet’s gothic lyrics and white-noise guitar carries a shade of The Horrors and makes them a difficult target for genre pigeon-holing. ‘Anxiety’ the second single from their debut album Burn Your Town, is a catchy but confusing mix of melodrama and noise-filled crescendos. Kingsley’s vocals grind out with the same resounding monotone as Editors’ lead singer Tom Smith drilling the lyrics ‘And they say your best isn’t good enough,’ with a muted empathy and lack of enthusiasm that says a lot for the singer’s suppressed punk attitude. It’s been a while since we have felt the need to be emotional for the sake of being emotional. Most of the time the shameful state of things will give us a pretty good reason to shake our fists in disgust and kick up some dirt. However, The Chapman Family have managed to harness their brooding anger within and squeeze out the internalised emotion with an odd upbeat tone for ‘Anxiety’, then finished it off with no real explanation as to what is getting their goat. This is a bit of a turnoff. We at least want to know why you are hurting inside boys. The uncensored version of the video (complete with boobs and violence) is available to watch on but is a mystifying mess of face-paint and anarchy that doesn’t seem to fit the tone of the track but would be more suited to the likes of tweeny-boppers My Chemical Romance. Hear ‘Anxiety’ for yourself on thechapmanfamily

Metronomy have got a habit of making the perfect kind of electro pop which pitches itself precisely to both dance-hungry hedonists and awkward, indie geeks. Unfortunately for them, this is also something that Hot Chip do, and have received significantly more attention for doing so.


The tracks on the LP are very much of the dance genre. Not so much the ‘dance’ that your granddad refers to when he hears any music without a tambourine, banjo or a trumpet, it’s just guitar music designed to fill 2011 indie floors. The problem with this is it sometimes feels a little too contrived. The first five tracks feel like they go along at a similar pace before the title track ‘Pala’ kicks in. It’s a bit more laidback and textured, it just sounds a better and more intelligent. Pala has a strong cosmopolitan feel throughout, whether this be with lyrics referring to the ‘Northern Lights’, ‘Hawaiian Air’, the sun kissing faces and instrumentation at times demonstrating exotic influences. This is the LP’s strong point, as Friendly Fires make an effort to push a couple of boundaries. They aren’t exactly tearing up the rulebook but they still sound quite fresh. In terms of the production things are a bit more polished than their selftitled debut. The band are clearly catering to indie fans who’ve let their tastes evolve into an appreciation of electronic material, ‘Hurting’ is an excellent example with its repetition and computerised background. Reverting back to opener ‘Live Those Days Tonight’ you experience an effort to unleash some immediacy, something that should be congratulated when others are guilty of being too abstract in attempt to be seen as being right on the pulse of everything yet to come. Although this is a good album, it just feels like the band have restricted themselves by trying too hard to replicate a formula that worked to staggering effect with the single ‘Kiss of Life’ which was released after their first album. Pala would be better if the tempo of the songs varied to a more obvious extent, preventing any feeling that the album drifts along. It does not quite have the exciting energy of their debut, and you just feel that they’ve taken on too much too soon. However, rest assured that Friendly Fires remain capable of producing a brilliant album, let’s just hope it’s the next one before everything goes up in flames.



However, with Hot Chip’s One Life Stand being an enjoyable but somewhat hit and miss affair, this might be Metronomy’s chance to leap from the shadows and swipe the Chip’s nerd pop crown. Opening with a string-laden intro featuring sound effects of a British beach, some people expecting to shake a leg may find themselves disappointed, because as good as ‘We Broke Free’ is- and it really is - bringing to mind a more laid-back and groovy ‘Tango In The Night’ era Fleetwood Mac, it is more suited for Sunday evening listens, and is unlikely to be heard in any student indie nights. But hey, while this is wildly different to what some people will expect, the acoustic indie pop of ‘Everything Goes My Way’, with its cooed boy/girl vocals is sure to receive adoration from fans of Belle and Sebastian. ‘Trouble’ has the kind of swooning Phil Spector sound that’s pretty hard to resist, along with some added talk box and synthesisers towards the end which give the song an extra 80s sheen. Sort of how the Grease soundtrack might have been if Danny and his friends were more into jumpers and cafes than leather and cars. The closest Metronomy come to a dance song on here is ‘The Bay’ which has a bouncing octave popping bass line that could certainly cause some hips to wiggle. But rather than maximising that with a pounding bass drum and squealing horns, the band choose to keep the drumming reserved with a subtle disco inflection and dramatic synthesiser washes. Not what some fans will be after, but very pleasant and almost impossible to smile at. So all in all, this album is pretty special. Anybody expecting more Radio Ladio style electro will be disappointed, but fans of eclectic and quirky indie pop are likely to hold The English Riviera close to their hearts.



In the 70s there was a huge culture war. Apparently if you wanted to be accepted as a cool punk, you had to declare that “Disco sucks!” and loudly taunt anyone who said ABBA were pretty good (which is true) or that underneath the off-putting voices, The Bee Gees actually wrote some amazing songs (which is also true). However, if you fast forward thirty something years and look at the state of both genres, maybe the cool scales would be tilted the other way, what with the world’s biggest punk band being a group of men in their 40s wearing eye-liner and producing Broadway musicals, while disco artists like Shit Robot, Lindstrom and Prins Thomas are being hailed as the most interesting musicians in the arena of dance music. Holy Ghost are most certainly disco and are most certainly cool. Whilst the aforementioned Lindstrom and Prins Thomas treat the genre quite seriously with long spacey passages of repeated riffs, Holy Ghost prefer to get straight to the point with synth hooks and simple, anthemic choruses mainly consisting of ordering the listener to do stuff (“Do It Again!”, “Say My Name” etc). It could be said that this simpler, more direct approach makes the songs less suitable for at-home listening, but Holy Ghost hardly hide the fact that their songs are intended to get people moving. Much like the amazing Chromeo, Holy Ghost’s album is pretty one dimensional, but when that one dimension is so perfectly executed and fills you with such joy, is it really a criticism? This is a disco album that very much doesn’t suck. If the punks of the 70s hadn’t already been made to look ridiculous by how shit their genre has become within mainstream music, this would embarrass them.

If, like me, you have room in your record collection for the occasional acoustic track, or heck, even a folk song, then the likelihood is you’ve got Fleet Foxes self-titled first album floating around somewhere. Yes, you may have bought it thinking it would be the ‘summer album’ of ‘08 – the perfect ‘chillin’ album for getting pissed on Bulmers in your festival tent – only to be disappointed by all the ‘slow paced, choral shit’, but you took the time to illegally download it, so fuck it, keep it and look like you know something about ‘alternative music’. Fleet Foxes’ second album Helplessness Blues is a little less likely to attract the ‘T4 on the Beach’ crowd, thanks to that fatal combination of intellectualism, originality and the unapologetically explicit use of musical instruments to generate sound. Plus, if you haven’t already guessed from the name, this album is a little more ‘blue’ in content, a real bummer when you’re jacked up on speed and dressed like a Primark mannequin. Despite all this, Helplessness Blues is a far superior album to the Foxes’ first outing. From the moment the opening track ‘Montezuma’ stubbornly cranks into gear, you know you’re in for a lesson in song writing, and singer Robin Pecknold delivers a much firmer vocal all round. You could say this all comes with experience, but the truth is the man poured everything he had into crafting this album, resulting in the breakdown of his relationship. The determination to make that split ‘worthwhile’ probably honed his masterpiece to perfection, and it’s certainly evident in the flawless arrangements of songs like ‘The Plains’ and ‘Bitter Dancer’. Although it’s not a reinvention of their previous sound by any means, Helplessness Blues is definitely a different tone. The flute pieces and choral harmonies remain, but everything seems a little more ‘serious’ – a little more grown up. The hazy, mellow feel of the first album is forgotten, and the lyrics cut through musical arrangements, defining them. The stories the album portrays are much more introspective and, thankfully, much more interesting as a result. The folkish tendency to disguise the severity of lyrics remains in part, but generally the songs feels much more honest and forthright. Title track ‘Helplessness Blues’ is a generation defining, anthemic work of brilliance in this regard. The songs and sounds of the album are nicely varied, with slow acoustics, quick pounding drums, and even a two minute paranoid jazz breakdown that I can only liken to being lost in the desert in a Sergio Leone film. Otherwise, there are a lot of different influences at play, from classical guitar to Irish folk, which wash over the tracks nicely. Ultimately, this is one excellent, intriguing and meaningful album that deserves savouring.


Like one of the pretentious wannabe chefs on Come Dine With Me who lectures to camera about how you should “only use the finest ingredients,” Dutch Uncles have a sound that takes influence from the finest of bands. Most obvious are the interweaving guitar lines and soft danceable bounce of early Talking Heads as well as the complex time signatures and knees-up piano of Field Music. Whilst fans of those two artists will find nothing particularly groundbreaking here, it is surprisingly catchy and dancefloor friendly for music that is so complicated and challenging- clearly taking very clever cues from obvious influence, the classical composer Steve Reich. In fact, ‘X-O’ is a reinterpreted version of a Reich piece. Though all of these classical influences and asymmetrical rhythms are the last thing on your mind when you hear the hooks! Whilst you can admire the impressive intelligence and musicianship, the choruses are so catchy (‘Fragrant’ is going to be an anthem, I swear) that it can be enjoyed purely on the basest and most primitive of levels. Dancing in 7/7 time is a challenge, but these songs will force you to try.

/ P. 12 - 13 /

ILLUSTRATION: Phillip Marsden


Words: Waxxx


Hercules and Love Affair rolled into town last week and literally blew the roof off Mojo (8th June). Andy Butler and Mark Pistell stuck to their synthesizers, with the added spark from the diva trio of Kim Ann Foxman, Aerea Negrot and Shaun Wright. Their soulful vocals and killer looks covered almost all traces of Andy’s apparent shoulder injury. The set was a made up of a mix of old and new, proving beyond any doubt that the band up is capable of living up to the label of being one of the hottest bands around. We were lucky to get an exclusive interview with Andy Butler before the show: Which promoter is throwing the best disco parties in NYC right now and where? Ahhh you’re asking hard questions! Disco parties in New York City? New York City is a hard place to find a really rocking party. I mean but, I will say there is a hotel called The Standard in a really ‘sheeshy’ part of town and there is a club called Le Bain with a guy who used to do ‘Shame Music’ and he has good house DJ’s play there a lot. Has a lot of it moved to Brooklyn or is that a different scene? Hmm no, well there is Trophy Bar in Williamsburg which has a great disco night with a bunch of disco kids but they’re playing a lot more house now. What is your favourite NYC radio station? Ermmm……NPR……’National Public Radio’!!! I don’t listen to the radio just downloaded music to DJ…...or Fight Music! With regards to MR.INT (Mr International) your Label, was it the lack of decent 90’s house sounding tracks, which inspired you to set this label up? Well yeah, I think there was just a lack of, I hate to sound snotty, but a lack of sophistication in a lot of the dance music that was happening, and there wasn’t much vocal music that was happening. There was either this minimal techno or this very euro trash David Guetta style stuff and I wanted something that had a certain subtlety, depth and substance which captured that 90’s vibe, so that’s kind of why we’re doing it. Do you think there are now a lot of producers jumping on this bang wagon trying to re create the sound of your label? – If not, do you expect there to be? I don’t know, I think things come in waves and people feel it at the same time, I think it’s that thing of the zeitgeist, where you know it’s like, I’m not the only one thinking about something, there are dudes thinking things like me all over. Mr International is kind of weird as I just did a record with some kids in Tel Aviv, so you know there are also kids in places like Moscow thinking this way, there are kids all over, so it truly is international in a way. In Berlin they are coming out with more and more deep tech house with vocals and they are letting go of the whole minimal thing and getting more soulful so Berlin once again is a great spot for music. Can we expect to see another release on the label by Kim this summer? Yeah, I’m doing a full length for her by the end of the year. Can you name me 3 90’s house tracks that will always have a place in your heart? Liberty City - Some Lovin’ Tyree - I Fear The Night (but that’s an 80’s track!!) River Ocean ft India - Love & Happiness What are you listening to on the tour bus in-between shows? Death Metal! Mostly what I listen to is things like ‘Entombed’. Personally I have very specific ethics with music. I am a nerd when it comes to music in general! So even with metal I get quite nerdy! My little brother is in a hot up and coming death metal band……. Give them a plug…. Their name is Vastum. He has two bands actually, he has one called Acephalix and the other is called Vastum. The band Vastum has a girl who plays with Jarboe from The Swans and I mean it’s very intellectual music. It’s death metal but it’s not for stupid people!

/ P. 14 - 15 /



Photography: Sophie Todd / Abby Lake / James Byrne / Rogelio Narito


Photography: Sophie Todd / Abby Lake / James Byrne / Rogelio Narito


/ P. 16 - 17 /

Words: Dave Cookson

MU SIC AS PEOPLE PREPARE TO GO TO FESTIVALS, OR AT LEAST BANG ON ABOUT THEM TO YOUR FACE INCESSANTLY, DO YOU SIT THERE WITH A GLUM VISAGE WISHING YOU HAD A BIT MORE MONEY SO YOU COULD GO ON YOUR OWN LITTLE MUSIC-PACKED JOLLY? IF YES, THEN YOU SHOULD BE THANKFUL FOR AFRICA OYÉ, THE ANNUAL FESTIVAL TAKING PLACE IN SEFTON PARK ON THE WEEKEND OF 18-19TH JUNE. IF YOU ARE TRULY SKINT THEN YOU SHOULD BE EXTRA THANKFUL FOR THE FACT THAT THE FESTIVAL ORGANISERS RECENTLY REVERSED THE DECISION TO CHARGE PEOPLE FOR ENTRY FOR THE VERY FIRST TIME. (I RECENTLY GOT INTO A CONVERSATION WITH A TAXI DRIVER WHO CONDEMNED THE DECISION TO CHARGE. I COULD HAVE BEEN A SMART ARSE AND CONDEMNED THE ROUTE HE WAS TAKING BUT KEPT MY MOUTH SHUT.) As the full name suggests, this is a celebration of African culture, music in particular. Although African music dominates the lineup, Oyé have made space for South American and Caribbean acts as well. Part of the ethos of Oyé is to combat the negative stereotypes associated with the fascinating continent. When a Western audience is exposed to Africa it is usually bad news. Famine, AIDS, corruption, civil wars, apartheid, the ongoing struggle in Libya are all components of the mental collage many of us will imagine when the word ‘Africa’ is mentioned. Africa Oyé draws our attention to the myriad positives the continent has produced, and continues to give to the rest of the planet. It is with some guilt that I have to admit that to a certain extent, I find it easy to associate Africa with these negatives. However if you ask me about the Nigerian novel, Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, then don’t expect to get a word in edgeways for about half an hour. Africa is a diverse, vibrant and culturally rich part of the world, condensing so much of it into one weekend in Liverpool is an admirable achievement. Acts playing at the festival come from far and wide. The lineup ranges from Miriem Hassan, hailing from West Sahara in the north west of Africa, down to Damily from Madagascar off the south east coast and flying off to Jamaica with the ‘Queen of Reggae’ Marcia Griffiths. Her reggae credentials aren’t to be questioned, especially when you consider the fact that she used to sing backing vocals for none other than Bob Marley. Given Oyé’s positive message this is a festival that will have a feel good atmosphere imploring the sun to crack the flags. Although you may not have heard of any of the artists playing, ten minutes on the Internet will make you wish you did. Madagascan guitarist Damily is a brilliant artist, and if you aren’t interested by Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars then I feel very, very sorry for you. It may not be packed with familiar acts you’ve been waiting years to see, but is that not something to be excited about in itself? Oyé promises to be a top event, and it’s right on your doorstep. We caught up with Paul Duhaney to ask a few questions about this years festival.


You were originally going to charge people for entry for the first time, but recently reversed the decision, why was this? For two reasons really. Firstly, we were able to come up with an alternative plan for this year’s festival which involved obtaining a licence for 20,000 people per day (as opposed to 10,000 last year), bringing in additional security on standby and putting a sufficient crowd management plan together. This means the festival no longer has to be ticketed and fenced which saves thousands of pounds in additional infrastructure. Secondly we received some additional funding via Liverpool City Council and festival enhancement via ERDF, and some sponsorship too, but we are still not out of the woods and will need to raise money during the festival period via donations, collections, merchandise and bar sales to keep us going. We also have an Africa Oyé Festival app for smart phones, which will help raise much needed revenue too. What has been the main reason for Oyé’s massive growth since its inception in 1992? It’s amazing really because when I first started working for Africa Oyé over twelve years ago the audience was mainly made up of people who were specifically into African or world music and it was seen by most as a pretty niche festival. I think over the years we have added different elements to the festival like the Oyé Village, children’s entertainment and the workshops, and more recently the DJ sessions at the bar so there is more going on around the site to support the wonderful artists on stage. In addition to that I also think people have become so much more eclectic in the last 5-10 years and are far more adventurous in regard to the music they listen to, probably due to the growth of the Internet. The fact that the bands we programme are the very best and could grace any festival stage also helps. Have their been many difficult obstacles that you’ve had to overcome? Every minute of every working day pre-festival we have obstacles thrown in front of us, this year has been particularly difficult. I think last year’s Oyé was a seminal festival as suddenly everything became so much bigger and with a bigger festival it obviously means a bigger budget and more problems, so trying to manage these additional costs has been very taxing (pun very much intended). What sets Oyé apart from other music festivals? Definitely the audience and ambience. I honestly can’t think of a festival or event I have been to where the audience is so mixed culturally and socially. Add to that the age range of 0-80 and the phrase ‘The World in One Park’ just about sums it up. Everybody is always so chilled and happy too and I think the music plays a strong part in that. What influence do you think African culture and arts has had on their more ‘mainstream’ equivalents? A positive one hopefully! I remember switching on the TV during the 80s and 90s and only seeing negative images of the continent which was so damaging as people thought Africa was about AIDS, poverty and famine. I think the last decade has seen a big change in that we are seeing African musicians playing alongside their contemporaries on programmes like Later with Jools Holland on a regular basis, which turns people on to it who might never have gained access to it before. Also, musicians such as Damon Albarn have spent time in Africa and profiled the music too. I think once you hear African music live you get bitten by the bug so to speak. What aspects of Oyé do you think would be particularly appealing to somebody who typically listens to indie/electronic/dub from Britain or the States, or would normally go to the likes of Glastonbury or Creamfields? Most of the bands that play Oyé incorporate Western instruments into their performances as well as traditional ones so I think people would be pleasantly surprised to see that, and also 90% of the bands play their own form of dance music that is as hypnotic as a tent in Creamfields. Is it challenging providing an African festival considering the diversity of the continent? We try to cover as many counties as possible when programming the festival but certain countries such as Senegal and Mali are more prolific when it comes to producing artists of quality so there is always a good sprinkling from West Africa on our bill. We have managed to get a really good spread from Western Sahara to Cameroon this year as well as our usual offering of reggae. Why do you think the city of Liverpool has been such a fruitful venue for the festival? I am really not sure if the festival would have the same dynamics anywhere else in the country because it seems to be a festival made for Liverpool especially when you look at the history of the city and the obvious links with the transatlantic slave trade. Did the award of the 2008 European Capital of Culture have an impact? For the city, definitely - I think that the positive coverage Liverpool received was long overdue. Much like I alluded to with Africa earlier all I ever heard about Liverpool from afar was the usual negative stereotypes so I think 08 changed people’s perceptions of the city and in my opinion moved Liverpool back into the Champions League of British cities along with Manchester, London, and Edinburgh. I don’t know if 08 had any impact on Africa Oyé directly, it certainly didn’t financially. I think there was so much going on during the year that we were kind of on the periphery of things, which was somewhat disappointing. Thankfully that is no longer the case and the City Council have been very supportive post-08 along with the Arts Council who are our major funders. Which artists are you most looking forward to showcasing at Oyé? I am really looking forward to seeing Marcia Griffiths who was one of Bob Marley’s legendary backing vocalists - the I3s - and went on to forge a prolific career in her own right and I have been a massive fan for years so I am really looking forward to seeing her. Also, new kid on the block Fatoumata Diawara from Mali is a real gem of an artist that people are gonna love. We also have Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars headlining on Sunday an they are going to blow people away with their driving reggae style bass lines and sheer energy onstage. All in all this is the strongest line-up we have had in my time with Oyé.


“Oh please, please listen to our music Mr promoter person, it’s ever so good. Not like The Wombats, no no, not another mouthful of warm diarrhoea sliding down the young, pink gullets of Liverpool’s youth. We’re worth booking, worth a chance and well worth the £0.00 fee we currently charge.” That’s roughly the subtext to every gig-scrounging e-mail I send out. Why is it such a battle to get your music heard at this level? I’d like to think it has something to do with promotors listening in detail to thousands of myspace links a day. I’d also like to think that when my ex-girfriend says her new boyfriend is “a pro surfer who dj’s on the side,” that secretly he’s got a small dick. But the fact is, it’s probably massive, and promoters are inundated with music that’s just not there yet, so why should they assume yours is any different. To be taken seriously, simply wonder in, get some face time with anyone connected and make them expect to hear from you. It’s the slickest way to bunny-hop the art firewall. We shopped about for our first gigs, to get off on the right foot etc. So where’s best to play, The Shipping Forecast surely? What a super trendy bohemian crypt, but surprise surprise it’s run by Chibuku. Don’t get me wrong, I know that without them Liverpool would be a wash with mopey, weak-kneed dance addicts micro-raving at the various Bold Street buskers, but the ‘buku are all business, and I can’t indulge a ‘what’s in it for me’ attitude. So instead I prayed… “Oh Lord, Santa, The Coalition, Shakira. Soz for watching Made in Chelsea the other night. It was supposed to be just five minutes of ironic lols, but I got sucked in, sucked in by horse faced laughs and the notion of being less enlightened than a clay pigeon I was trying to destroy. If you can ever forgive me though, I need a band night, a new music Mecca in a sick venue…with free entry; please? Amen.” Club Lazy Genius at Mojo, the answer to all our prayers. Two busy shows down and it seems we have a following, with a plucky few demanding cd’s we hadn’t even thought about. We better get to steppin’. Things went okay our end besides a painfully long set up process. I mean, when did my life become so full of bloody wires? Amp wires, instrument wires, computer wires, The Wire, gimme a break! Anyway we came off well, attract the praise of strangers and you’ve done good. On a more negative note, our slightly late Soundcity application was rejected to the tune of “this time round you were unsuccessful: the standard of applications was exceptionally high this year.” bastards. Sure, all the slots went on musical merit. I’m not bitter! Perhaps next issue we can throw some tunes your way and let you decide.

Words: Owen Rogers Illustration: Mary Kim Naylor


/ P. 18 - 19 /




The K, The Kray, The Krazyhouse, or whatever it’s known as to you and your tribe, you’ve either been there or heard about it, but there is so much more to The Krazyhouse than the usual perceptions of ‘goffs’ and ‘Carnage’. In fact there is so much more to this venue that you would have to be some sort of deviant not to love it. The simple audacity of 2-4-1 drinks. Down the first one, and sip the other. Or, maybe down both, get two more, then order……………..more! The Krazyhouse is also a corner stone in the history of the alternative scene in Liverpool. It has hosted the Verve and Oasis back before you had to pay a month’s wages to see them in a stadium. It gave a generation of nu-metal and punk fans a context to have fun and express themselves, then eventually giving the emo and hardcore scene somewhere to hang out. This was my era of the Krazyhouse, hanging around in the corners, stinking of black hair dye, screaming along to The Used. Many of the clientele are immensely loyal. So they should be. Some of whom, religiously visit every single Thursday, Friday and Saturday without fail. Mutterings of Krazyhouse tattoos are unfounded but not doubted. But, what of current Krazy things? The new promoters roped in are keen to impress an image of live music at the Krazyhouse in the not too distant future. They have one of the biggest spaces available for such things in Liverpool and are understandably eager to make best use of it. With the club being around for as long as it has it is only natural that there are many rumours flying around about the place. One rumour that can be proved is that KoRn actually played there in 1996. Many people of recent years didn’t believe it until last month when a 30 minute video tour diary filmed by the band themselves surfaced online on YouTube. You can see the band arrive in Liverpool, sound check and then the actual gig. The aim is to get bands back at the venue and making it an even bigger force in the Liverpool music scene. This will be helped with the redevelopment of the venue this year which means that there are exciting times ahead! James Albertina of The Tea Street Band recalls classic tales of Krazy K-house related madness. Along with his chums they regularly indulged in the Thursday 2 for 1 madness. Having a jolly good time thrashing around to RATM of the first floor, they would then proceed to the second floor to enjoy some Fools Gold and if the mood striked occasionally head up to the third floor to enjoy a blast of “fucked up scouse house”. Here is one of James’ many tales:

“Well there was the time I seen 3 birds getting frisky with each other basically in a line and they certainly weren’t pick pocketing each other! Or I remember years ago when I was getting into gary’s and went there at half 9 when it was empty seriously off my cake and ran around and three floors until I passed out after telling the DJ on the second floor he better put something ‘banging on’ even though it was empty? Or the time I watched 2 lads have a proper bitch slap fight after one lad had called the other lads bird a tart. The gaff is a piece of the modern 20/30 something’s fundamental upbringing, you should be able to take G.C.S.E Red Stripe 2-4-1 Thursdays.” I’m not sure the government would grant that but I’m sure you would gain a lot of support for it my friend. Visits to the Krazyhouse have often begun with so much hype and optimism that it’s surely difficult to fulfil? Well, it’s never been what we expected. That’s definitely not a bad thing though. No pretension can be found here whatsoever. The main thing running through the veins of this ‘super club’ is that everyone wants to lose all of their inhibitions and dance like a twat. No matter what you’re ‘into’. Take all your mates here on your next night out. Get them all impossibly drunk with twelve pounds, then teach them how to hardcore dance to The Bled, get a few of the others on the bottom floor for a bit of metal, then bring the I-am-a-hipster-but-i-secretly-like-trance-music-but-wont-admit-it bastards to the top floor for some of the big tunes. I fucking love the K. And so should you!

Words: Joshua Burke / James Albertina

ROGELIO NARITO Graphic Designer. Based in Liverpool. Available for freelance work/collaborations in: Design/Print/Photography Site: E-Mail: Blog: www.rogelionarito. com/57DukeStreet

Hand Screen printed t-shirts featuring a collection of illustrators work Our Online Store COMING SOON High quality bespoke screen printing service for all your t-shirts/posters and printed apparel 07854854710


/ P. 20 - 21 /

Words/Photography: Stephen Baxendale / Corey Bartle-Sanderson

SO CIAL If you like visiting ‘nice’ pubs and you’re considering reading this article, don’t bother. You’ll find nothing of interest here. You’re not going to find our review of a trendy cocktail bar that has specialist rums imported from... wherever. You definitely will not read about establishments where you’ll see a med student drinking apple sours. Nor are you going to find a gastropub that serves premium beers in a relaxing atmosphere. We sent out our reporter Stephen Baxendale and editor Joshua Burke to find you three pubs with a bit of character. The pubs in this guide are bleak, volatile and often genuinely unpleasant. These are the sort of places where a man called Bezzo will try to sell you a bootleg DVD of ‘Inception 2’ for three pounds. Pubs where you have to threaten violence to get a glass that doesn’t have a pube in it. Places filled with crazed men who’ll tell you they love you and then try and gut you ten minutes later. These are bad pubs for bad people.







There comes a time in your life when happy drinking sessions become dull. You will become numb to those sickly sweet nights of laughing and joking with friends. Eventually the only way you can get your kicks is to become melancholy. Sitting in dank pubs with heavy pints in your stomach. Soon even those melancholy days will lose their hold on you and you’ll have to move on to something else. That’s when you will realise how horribly attractive misery can be. Luckily for you, we have the perfect establishment for feeling miserable.

I have only one page of notes from this pub, and it’s the word “SHIT” written over and over. This pub looks horrible from the outside and it doesn’t get any better once you’re in. I could tell we’d come at a bad time - four o’clock - the midday pissheads were peaking before they slumped into their afternoon sessions of spousal abuse. Everyone in there seemed dangerously excited. At least two had murderous looks in their eyes and three had menacing erections.

The Punch and Judy is situated on a shady street near lime street station, it shares a road with a twenty four hour greasy spoon café that is popular with taxi drivers, serial killers and crystal meth users who desire the bloody taste of a black pudding at 3a.m.

The patrons seemed like a cross section of the criminally insane. All the men were wearing their sleaziest clothes. All the women look like recently reformed glue addicts. There was a woman who looked so rough that it seemed cruel to let her live. There was a man with a tiny spherical head, he was sat there naked except for shorts and sunglasses, he was quiet clearly evil. The man closest to the bar looked like a shaved bear that was dying from a cocktail of STDs. As nice as the atmosphere was, we decided to have one pint and then get the fuck of there.

On walking in Josh and I are shocked by how impossibly dark it is for a public place. All the windows are clouded to shut off any natural light and any stray rays of sunlight are absorbed into the black furnishings. The place is briefly illuminated every time the doors open, the patrons squint and scuttle away from the light, like woodlice hiding under a brick from the sun. A rusty jukebox painfully flips between bitter songs; the only other sound is that of drunken murmurings punctuated with tar heavy coughs. Occasionally the slot machine flashes and shrieks a broken version of the Coronation Street theme tune. We sat there for a while in a murky corner. Josh seemed upbeat at first, his usual anxiety had faded. Ten minutes later he seemed subdued and lifeless, I could tell that gloom was seeping into him. He looked like he was about to make an attempt on his own life. Who could blame the bastard? When I went to order a drink, the bar was worn smooth by years of being caressed by grubby hands. There’s a line of unmoving men waiting for their drink. They all look the same. Grey hairs dyed orange with tobacco. Broken noses badly set. Rorschach dots of pen ink tattoos blotting through their thick skin. They wait with a quite patience at the bar, gripping sweaty coins in the meat of their fists, politely asking for a pint of Guinness with a tone in their voice that’s halfway between a whisper and a scream. In this day and age pubs with this level of desperation are a rare treat. When you tire of the fleeting sugar high of happiness and socialising (which you will), the Punch and Judy should be your first stop on the road to Hell. Just as we were leaving I could see Josh was beginning to get into the swings of things. His mind was reeling with the complexities of misery. He had his head down staring at the table. Occasionally sipping his pint and mumbling a nonsequitur. I think if I’d left him alone I could have come back ten years later and I would have found him in the same chair, ravaged by time, half mad and alone, wondering were his life went.

I wasn’t worried if a fight sprung up. Simply because I was confident in my skills as a coward. I’d leave Josh in a flash and be recovering in the Punch and Judy five minutes later. I didn’t intend to break my vow of cowardice for the likes of Joshua Burke. Josh has always hated me. I’ve always hated him as well, while we’re on the subject. I think he’s a bastard that is constantly trying to kill me and he thinks I’m a leech that has been clinging on to his publication from the start. I wanted something quick to drink. “Gin and tonic.” Josh dug his fingers in my arm and said, “You little prick. Trying to get me killed aren’t you? After everything I’ve done for you. This isn’t a gin and tonic crowd!” He turned to the barmaid grinning. “He’ll have a pint of stout, he loves stout. Ignore him please. “ We were slugging down the pints as quick as we could when the man in shorts walked over to us. He began babbling, pointing and shouting in my face. He didn’t like what I was about. He kept cutting in halfway through his own sentences and getting aggravated. He was ready to explode. I was filled with horror by the fact he wasn’t wearing shoes. I figured if he was mad enough to come to a pub with no shoes on then he was mad enough to rip in me in two for no reason. Well, I said to myself, you always knew it would come to this. I had good run. I’ll probably be in the Echo tomorrow: “Dickhead beaten to death.” We just kept slugging the beer while this animal became increasingly enraged and confused in front of us. Later as we ran away from the pub through the streets of Liverpool, I tried to explain to Josh that this was the twisted appeal of pubs like this. The sense of danger and excitement. He quickened his pace and left me behind. Soulless ginger bastard.


Words/Photography: Stephen Baxendale / Corey Bartle-Sanderson



125 LONDON ROAD CITY CENTRE, LIVERPOOL L3 8JA Named in honour of Dirty Nelly, Liverpool’s greatest prostitute. Or so a poorly painted mural on the roof of the pub tells me. One thing this pub has in common with it’s muse is that it routinely provides a seedy yet satisfying experience to all those who are low enough to need it.


Inside, men scream and howl through the karaoke machine. Others bang pool balls aimlessly around an old worn down table. Some just sit so still that they become part of the scenery. The people there seem to have three main occupations, firstly drinking, secondly sweating and lastly talking nonsense. The interior of the pub is so bare and minimal that it looks like it could have been raided by bandits only minutes before. There’s a strangely comforting pet shop smell of bodily fluids and sawdust. A collection of broken fans hang down from the ceiling. The toilet has been smashed up but the tiles have just been replaced with table mats. Two men come in and they look like they’re selling the usual contraband found in pubs. Except these two have robbed a Clinton’s or a Hallmark and have a bag full of novelty pens with pre-printed names on. They claw at the bad with desperation trying to find a name to match a willing customer. “Do you have a sister called Judy? A wife named Marion? Anybody know someone called Catherine who wants a pen?” This seems life the most insanely contrived way to make money ever conceived. I can see Josh taking this all in and going pale. The Fear had got him and he was going pale even for the pale ginger man that he is. I can see him taking in these strange people, gulping his piss warm pint greedily to ease the pain. The people in there all walk around twitching and muttering madness to themselves. All their heads are slightly misshapen, and they all have hair on the back of their hands and that crazed look in the eyes that you only get from heavy inbreeding. He’s right to be worried, these people probably believe he’s some sort of soulless ginger witch. He just doesn’t understand that these unpredictable people are all part of the appeal.


The atmosphere lurches between manic highs and suicidal lows. Nobody in the place looks particularly dangerous, but the atmosphere feels like a tightly wound guitar string that could pop at any second. The place had no real violent undercurrent. Except when I interrupted a pool shot and the whole pub looked like they wanted to knife fuck me. Or when a man started squeezing my head at the bar. Not in an aggressive way, but I wouldn’t describe his tight clammy grip as friendly either. I tried talking to a man at a bar, to get an interview, but it was impossible to glean any meaning from him, all his sentences broke into laughter halfway through and ended in a low murmur that sounded like a threat. The selling point of Durty Nellys is not just their piss tasting pound pints, or the horrific karaoke, it’s that mad energy you don’t find in a regular pub. You don’t know if you’ll end up enjoying a quiet pint or if you’ll to have to stab your way out with a broken bottle. (Although it’s been known for people do both.)


/ P. 22 - 23 /


Words: Andrew Flather Photography: Corey Bartle Sanderson

SO CIAL I grew up near a canal. It wasn’t full of shopping trolleys and used needles, nor was it a fragrant ribbon carving through picturesque meadows. My stretch of canal was somewhere in between those extremes, sitting stagnant and pungent in Stoke-on-Trent’s outlying towns from which it acquired those characteristics. Canals are wonderful places, if you’ve ever spent a couple of hours walking alongside one you’ll almost certainly have walked under a bridge and if you were lucky you might have had your heart sent racing by the sight of five or six teenage lads milling about underneath one, smoking a joint and kicking expired cider bottles towards the moorhens. Treading a narrow strip of towpath with half a dozen teenagers on one side and a trench containing two hundred years’ worth of effluent on the other is probably the average man’s equivalent of traversing an alpine ridge and puts your heartbeat in your ears. Why though? Why is the sight of young men standing aimlessly in the gloaming, consuming a class B substance, so frightening? In searching for an answer it may be best to start with a lyric from Elbow’s Build a Rocket Boys!: ‘Lippy Kids’. Guy Garvey’s experience of walking past a group of loiterers at a tram stop and chirping ‘Alright lads?’ rather than being defensively dumb and looking at the floor, is a lesson to most of us. If you’ve seen the papers this morning then you’ll know that a social apocalypse is upon us and that the four horsemen are The Teenage Mum, The Paedophile, The Immigrant and The Chav. They’re coming over the hills in waves, their Rockport shoes shaking the ground, and they’re going to knife you, And Knife You, AND KNIFE YOU. We love to buy into it don’t we? It’s like having a horror film happening outside your bedroom window. It thrills us and for that reason it’s entertaining, it gives us the rush of adrenaline that our primal bodies find lacking in our comparatively tedious modern lives. There are those, though, who return home from the local news-stand-horror-show as insomniacs, unable to separate reality and fiction. Every darkened street corner conjures up the image of their own face on the ten o’clock news beneath a headline proclaiming the tragedy of their untimely demise at the hands of a light-footed fifteen year-old with a flick-knife.

THERE ARE THOSE, THOUGH, WHO RETURN HOME FROM THE LOCAL NEWS-STAND-HORRORSHOW AS INSOMNIACS, UNABLE TO SEPARATE REALITY AND FICTION. Now I’m not saying that gun crime, knife crime and gang violence don’t exist or are in any way a triviality – in Liverpool who would dare?! These social problems do exist and, in the most tragic of cases, tear apart lives and communities. Having no first-hand experience of violent crime or its effects it would be arrogant of me to lecture those who do. However, there are many thousands of what we derisively call ‘scallies’ in Britain’s cities and not only is it factually incorrect to say that all of them like nothing better than an evening’s stabbings and use the word ‘glass’ more often as a verb than as a noun, it is also morally dubious to confuse what is illegal with what is evil. Over here, right, this is what’s illegal. And over here on this side, this is what’s bad. This one’s determined by the legislature, and this one’s determined by social consensus. Obviously there are considerable overlaps but it would be wrong to suggest, as many do, that anything that is illegal is automatically a moral transgression. If that were true then are the lads smoking pot under the bridge more deviant now than they were when cannabis was a class C drug? Of course not. If we’re to assume that the ‘lippy kids’ that Garvey talks about are teenagers, then surely sixty years of teen culture should have taught us that the nature (literally) of being that age means testing your boundaries, finding your identity, being alone and, simultaneously, feeling a sense of belonging - everything that the group under the bridge embodies. By closing lots of little gates to stop the delinquent Horseman of the Apocalypse from bolting, you don’t prevent his escape; you leave him no other option than to kick down the entire fence. This has been the government’s policy over the past decade or so. Have ASBOs, electronic tags and curfew orders curbed the overall trend for after-dark mischief? No. If anything they have encouraged more young people to turn to more serious gang violence as a way to get their extra-judicial kicks. The police, it seems, see only minor practical differences between a group of people lying in wait to stab a gang rival and a group of people sitting around and having a smoke or drinking in a park. Clearly the two groups are many moral miles apart. Perhaps there are some cities in Britain, Liverpool being one, where to argue that delinquent young men should be cut some slack by the police is not a popular tack to take. The damage done by past generations of violent groups has left a mark that runs deep. To coin another Elbow lyric, though; ‘Fear is not respect’. There are certainly young men out there in this city who are unaware of that fact and consider a frightened glance from a passer-by to be equal in value to a deferential gesture. Surely to say ‘Alright Lads’ as you pass and pay your respects without having to be intimidated would be a step in the right direction for both parties.


For the vast majority of my ‘going out career’, I’d been slavishly patrolling the pubs, clubs and bars of Liverpool city centre in an endlessly repeating cycle of bad experiences. The long queues at the bar, the 2am crush, the awful, awful music and the diverse range of hazards that the night bus offered eventually meant town lost its lure. There are few places less appealing than a busy Concert Square. Never has there been a more wretched hive of scum and villainy. Or lack of concerts. My gradual retreat from town snaked all the way up Hardman Street back toward Sefton Park and, after a brief spell guzzling hooch on the swings, eventually led to the out of town experience of Lark Lane. Lark Lane, or the Lane to those who are already familiar, offers a heady mix of bo-ho eccentricity and your trendy wine bars but it does have character, which is something the amorphous blob of city centre bars does not. There are certainly less bars on the Lane but there is more variety and quality between them. Food is a premium experience here. Every bar and café offers it, and there’s a very broad menu across the various establishments. Whether you’re a beret wearing, Guardian reading vegetarian or an insatiable carnivore who likes a pint with every meal, there is no shortage in choice. It’s not just boozing and eating, (although there a few more enjoyable experiences than a blurry Sunday breakfast or a Lark Lane New Year’s Eve) the Lane has a broad array of arty shops, convenience stores, food market stalls and antique stores. Lark Lane does pander to the bohemian but this is largely because its minimal distance from the city centre has kept it mercifully free from the blighting masses and so it has retained a ‘hidden gem’ specialness about it. It’s a literal stone’s throw away from Sefton Park too so the glut of summer events will spill over to the Lane frequently, African Oyé and the Food Festival being good examples. And that is the main strong point of a night (or day) out here. You can have different experiences depending upon where and when you go. It has character, it has characters and, in the modern maelstrom of city living, it provides a friendly island in an ocean of anonymity. There is likely something for everyone on Lark Lane, you can even live there if you want to.

PISTACHIO LARK LANE PROMOTIONS Lunch Offer 2 Courses £7.95 Monday – Saturday 12 noon – 5pm ********** Early Doors menu 2 Courses £9.95 Monday - Saturday 5pm -7pm ********** 2 Courses from full A La Carte menu £12.95 Available Monday to Thurs 5pm – 10pm


,Lark Lane come and join us for our weekly open mic night open to all levels and genres of music!

student night! All drinks £2 all night with your student card!!! Join us Thursdays when each week we will have a live band or DJ playing, mix this with cheap drinks and it becomes a perfect early start to the weekend!!

the weekend afternoons consist of the best of the premier league games, we show ALL live Liverpool and Everton games…and with a beer burger and fries available for £4.95 its not to be missed!

vinyl has a host of exciting bands and djs lined up for you to dance the night away to! Vinyl has a cool friendly vibe and is open till 1am at weekends an ideal place to start of finish your night!

we open for all Liverpool and Everton games so you never miss a kick!!

Vinyl available for hire 7 days a week for all your party needs… For further information contact 0151 726 0160 Vinyl Bar, Lark Lane, Liverpool

Words: Christopher Lea


/ P. 24 - 25 /

Words: Sydney Fleming-Gale

SO CIAL We are all too familiar with the saying ‘to make it to the top you have to start from the bottom’ but does that mean literally crawling on your hands and knees to get there? Internships are one of the only ways into the creative industries for a young graduate and there are thousands of them out there. However, after the recent regression and cuts to arts funding in 2011 an intern is an easy option for employers to get free work from young talent. Unfortunately for some, employers have started to abuse that privilege. More and more willing candidates are treading a thin line between starting a career and entering slave labour as a last resort option to get in to the industry. A recent survey by Internocracy found that only 25 per cent of people were satisfied with their internship. Most interns have stories to tell of mundane daily tasks, being completely ignored and kept in the same un-paid roles for months on end, only enduring these situations with the hope of getting a foot in the door. The experiences they have barely touch on developing the promised skills in the industry and most never even get a chance at real creative in-put. Worst of all after they have served their time and worked up a substantial debt they are let go without the promised job offer or even so much as a thank you. This lot are putting the ‘ploy’ in employers. We went straight to the source and spoke to three interns about their experiences. Get ready to cringe, they’ve got some shockers to tell.





“I was with this company for one and a half years and never once was I asked to move to a higher position. The worst part was being locked in the dingy office at the bottom of the building with the sex-pest that went by the name of ‘head runner’. She spent half the time sending me on important missions to buy her underwear and heart patterned tights to squeeze her fat arse into. When she wasn’t propositioning me with invites back to her house she was abusing me for my lack of talent and capabilities in the workplace. One night she kept me in the office so late that I was forced accept her chilling offer with the promise I could sleep on her sofa (which I soon found didn’t even exist). After an awkward exchange of words I found myself in her bed clinging to a corner of a sheet in fear as she tenderly stroked my back and sides in the darkness. The next day she unleashed a hell of screams on me for leaving the phone to ring a whole minute without answering. I endured another seven months of this bipolar cruelty and even a Christmas party where she attached herself to my face and pulled me to the ground. It got so bad I actually considered giving in just to make life at work a bit easier, it was either that or punch the bitch in the face.”

“When I saw the advert for a junior marketing position I was stoked and took the job after a quick interview. What they failed to tell me was the previous intern hadn’t been fired, moved on or promoted but had actually died. I was forced to sit opposite the emotional wreck of a colleague who spent all their time deathstaring me for daring to try and replace their friend. It wasn’t my fault they died. Day in day out I put up with the staring psychopath chewing biros and scowling at my while I tried to ignore them. They actually turned their head to watch me as I walked around the room for Christ’s sake. The highlight of my time there was a random phone call from another sociallychallenged member of the company. They were known for their lack of intelligence but this was something else. While on holiday in Italy they rang MY desk (namely the assistant’s desk) to scream and cry down the phone because they had been stung by a bee and didn’t know what to do. I didn’t even know this person or work with this person, it was so freaking weird. I spent an hour comforting them over the phone and trying to convince them that a bee sting wasn’t fatal. I don’t think that was in the job description when I applied.”


A 21 YEAR OLD JOURNALISM STUDENT JOB TITLE: EDITORIAL INTERN DUTIES: POSTMAN, STAMP LICKER, OFFICE BITCH “Oh fuck not again, not a-fucking-gain, ‘Natasha could you run out and buy some porridge for Jane, in fact could you get three teas and a bacon and egg sandwich too whilst you’re at it...’ During my editorial internship at one of the top fashion weeklies I was treated like a bloody waitress. I seriously contemplated adding extra flavour to their breakfast orders by seasoning it with globs of spit. Unfortunately the breakfast run was probably the highlight of my day because when I got back to the office I would be up to my elbows in post, which I delivered obediently when really I just wanted to staple it to their heads. Just to add insult to injury I was sat opposite possibly one of the most offensive, shrill and moany news editors on the planet. I was subjected to her daily bitching about her gay roommate who persisted in loudly ‘boinking’ club conquests on a nightly basis. The woman is a megaphone personified; so by rights she can’t actually complain about loud people. Despite my best efforts to get these ‘employers’ to give me more interesting tasks, my pleas fell on deaf ears. God forbid they would let me do anything of substance like, oh I don’t know, write something for the magazine. After all I was just the editorial bitch—I mean intern…FML.”

*Scary as the prospect may be there is still hope. If you make it to the top, as many of you will, at least you can have the comfort of knowing one day you will have your very own intern to satisfy your every snack, whim and emotional needs – or if you have any kind of self respect you will just buy yourself a helper monkey. Know your rights



I spent two hours crafting a personalised name badge out of blue tack, postit notes and string to hang around my neck with the message ‘Slave’. Resorting to this time filling task was necessary after my first idiot duty of the day, sorting the post, surprisingly only took me ten minutes. Achieving a third year degree obviously means you are incapable of independent thought. Playing postman will apparently suffice as amusement for an entire day. Then it starts: “Intern?...Intern?... INTERN?!” Oh right, that’s me. Cue the muscleaching smile that bears my full dentine but disguises the hidden contempt for the impending, degrading jobs at hand. “Yes, how can I help?” “I need you to go and buy me muesli? Can you do that for me?” Muesli...fucking muesli...I’m a university graduate and you want me to go and select your breakfast grains? And you doubt that I can handle this complicated task? I’ll tell you where you can shove your oats and dairy, love. “Sure thing.” I spent three years in lectures and seminars, just so I could help you get your morning fibre. I lived in a box room with a housemate who was partial to stealing my cheese and used to piss with the door open. I stayed awake for a week straight to finish a 10,000 word dissertation and ran up debts of over £30,000 only to find myself as your personal snack lackey! “Oh, and Intern!” Now what? “I don’t want to see any pumpkin seeds. I don’t want to have to pick them out like last time.” “FUCK YOU” Shit... did I just say that out loud?

Words: Sydney Fleming-Gale

/ P. 26 - 27 /



Corey is a young artist and photographer from Liverpool who has just been accepted into Kingston University to study fine art. His photography has recently been on display in Madrid, New York and London in a OjodePez exhibtion titled ‘when we were young’. Other work can be seen @ coreybartlesanderson/

Photography: Corey Bartle-Sanderson


Photography: Corey Bartle-Sanderson


/ P. 28 - 29 /

Words: Matthew Lloyd Photography: Rogelio Narito


Have you ever felt that you have just gone through the same process all over again? You are present but contemplating the past, just like you where 6 months ago? But while thinking back then, you couldn’t wait for the future and now here it is…it feels like the past? Strangely enough I am feeling this right now, not only because of my own personal life, but university; with the recent ‘death’ of Mr Bin Laden - I thought he died years ago…and also artistically - we have a number of shows that are back for their second comings, and I’m glad to say they seem just as good, if not better than their first. The fourth Liverpool Art Prize 2011 has arrived again and is a definite mixed bag! (No Masque pun intended) With the exhibition based at METAL Art Studios, (Edge Hill Station) it definitely makes a nice change to get out of the city and go over to see Liverpool’s equivalent to the Tuner Prize, so on rainy Thursday 5th May I went down to see what all the fuss was about. This year’s shortlisted artists include media, film and sound artist Markus Soukup, Bluecoat Studio based painter Bernadette O’Toole, Bridewell Studio based installation/painter Brendan Lyons and good pub quiz pal of mine Royal Standard’s very own Richard Proffitt. To say METAL was busy would be an understatement, as you can imagine the place was stuffed with Liverpool’s finest art faces - artists, curators, directors, buyers, critics and the general art loving public, all chattering away like busy little art bees. After a five minute squeeze to the ‘free’ bar, and a catch up with fellow artists, I made my way round this exciting show. Bernadette O’Toole’s paintings I had seen before at The Bluecoat some time ago, her abstract yet landscape/ figurative works give off an illusionary and textural effect. Markus Soukup’s videos/ media works focus on the communication with realistic/abstract expressions but also give the viewer the ability to make their own interpretation. When we come to the works of our last two artists they seem to push the show onto another level. Brendan Lyons’ paintings leave you puzzled yet amazed like you have just seen a magic trick. All, yes, all of his works are made out of paint and are technically paintings, but with paint he has created mundane sculptures - cardboard, staples, tape etc. Lyons has created a new form of painting without even using a canvas or brush, or even the act of painting. (Just go and see it to believe it!) Next, 25-year-old Liverpool artist Richard Proffitt presents us with one of his dark and mysterious installations. We see bricks, sand, sticks, dim lights, bones, and a torn leather jacket making a collage of references from anthropology, curio ephemera to childhood memories. Proffitt presents his set and show, leaving the viewer to figure out the script. Proffitt is the only artist exhibiting work that won’t be seen again; his installations are never truly the same as the last one and you know you are viewing something unique. At the time of writing it is difficult to say who will win the prize (Award Night Ceremony 1st June) but for me personally I wouldn’t be too surprised if Lyons or Proffitt walk away with the title, whoever not receiving the main award the other will surely win the viewers’ choice (2nd prize). The show is on until 11 June and is a fantastic exhibition and a great inspiration for all young aspiring artists out there with people like Proffitt leading the way. From contemporary art to contemporary gig posters, Screenadelica has returned for another year! Hosted this year at the International Gallery, this three day event, just in time for Sound City Festival, (unfortunately by the time you read this it will have finished, but no matter I shall tell you

about it anyway!) sees a mixture of UK and International gig poster illustrators showcasing their work from a number of alternative bands icnluding The Melvins, Mastodon, Gallows, Sunn0))), Queens of the Stone Age and Artic Monkeys. Every single print looks precious and collectible and not to mention exclusive. Prices range from £10 to £20, these are going to sell better than the newspapers that printed stories about Bin Laden’s death. Some of the artists in the show are Nick Rhodes, Paul Rhodes, Army of Cats, Luke Drozd, Horse, Michael Cowell, and Liverpool based Sir Craig Robson, who had produced a gorgeous print gig poster of Fucked Up and their gig at The Kazimier for Sound City. Craig Robson has been working non-stop after completing his degree and has worked with a number of alternative bands -Attack Attack, Hatebreed, Carpathian, D.R.U.G.S to name a few, and he has seen a number of band members wearing his gear including Gallows, Lostprophets and As I Lay Dying. Craig Robson will hold his first ever solo show at the Bohemia Space this October, keep your eyes peeled way back. Speaking of The Bohemia Space, (based inside Mello Mello café) I was asked once again to curate a show inside their café. This time I have curated Contemporary Drawing. The exhibition displays drawings of all kinds, from traditional and figurative to abstract and even tape window displays from artists Benjamin Murphy and Cody Oyama. Other artists in the show include The Royal Standard’s Mike Carney and Henry Finny, Red Wire’s Alan Williams, Sam Storehouse, Colette Lilly, Elizabeth Hayden and myself, London based artists, Marnie Pitts and Topia Gould (Roxy Topia and Paddy Gould), ex-LJMU students, Kirsty White, Lucy Wilson, Katie Craven, Sophie Todd, Duncan Scammell and soon to be 3rd year Amee Christian. Rounding off the exhibition we have very well known Liverpool artist Jon Barraclough, Kate Smith, Hazel Critchley, and Mello Mello’s very own Gregory Scott-Gurner, Laura Spark and Parabhen Lad. Contemporary Drawing is on display from 27th May - 16th July at Mello Mello, also be sure to check out our Artists Book Fair happening mid June. For more infomation please go to www. Moving back into the future and awaiting the present showing of a past greatness of bowler hats, apples and clouds, the one and only Belgian surrealist Rene Magritte is coming to Tate Liverpool. Tate Liverpool brings Rene Magritte: The Pleasure Principle - the first major exhibition from the ‘dreamer’ artist in ten years. Exhibiting over 100 works, many of which never before seen in the UK, the exhibition follows Magritte’s life from all stages and lesser known aspects, investigating Magritte’s relationship with painterly work and commercial design. Tate Liverpool always seems to get it right with these major shows, from Klimt, Picasso and most recently Nam June Paik, they never fail to take you right into the artist’s life. Be sure to get your tickets early, as the show is on from 24th June - 16th October. So… there was your monthly fix of what has happened, happening and what’s going to happen, in the sound city of Liverpool. It is now up to you to create your own past, plan your future and live in the present. Remember not to dwell on premature or unborn memories but remember to absorb the NOW. I ask again…Have you ever felt that you have just gone through the same process all over again? I have, but it’s just another time to truly enjoy the experience a second time round. ‘Be present for the past is stale, the future does not exist’. -Simon Parke,


Words: Matthew Lloyd Photography: Rogelio Narito


/ P. 30 - 31 /

Words: Charles McIntyre / Sydney Fleming-Gale

FI LM Staring into the eyes of another Captain Sparrow cardboard cut out, I wonder how I’m still functioning within the realms of ‘non-criminal behaviour’. I make a brisk exit, forcing myself to ignore the fourteen foot Transformers: Dark of the Moon mega poster, and go about my day. The rage subsides, almost evaporating as I mentally replay scenes from Once Upon a Time in the West and Chinatown in an effort to sooth my throbbing temples of hollywood woe. “Anne Hathaway as Catwoman could work”, I bitterly tell myself. “Ghostbusters 3 won’t be another Return of the Jedi.” I’m almost half convinced by my lies. I even consider withdrawing the hit I put out on Ryan Reynolds, but then my phone vibrates. I open the message, and my world falls apart in a single half formed sentence. Blade Runna sequel and prequel confirmed on imdb It gets worse. Who Framed Roger Rabbit II, The Birds (remake), Total Recall (remake), RoboCop (remake), The Crow (remake)... Here’s an idea film studios... are you ready? Think of something new. If that’s too testing, ask a hobo on the street for his life story or pick plot ideas from a hat. Anything has to better than a friggin’ Tin Tin film. Failing that, just re-release The Notebook, but include a bloody, 49 minute long everyone-dies purge followed by a Ryan Gosling torture sequence involving rabid bears and flame throwers. DONE. Now kindly fuck off, and never touch Blade Runner ever again.


This month I’m handing over to Sydney Fleming-Gale to bring you the up and coming. Pom Wonderful Presents: The Greatest Movie Ever Sold – released in USA April 22nd 2011, coming soon to UK cinemas. We watched Morgan Spurlock pig-out in Super Size Me and now we watch him a sell-out for his new ‘docbuster’ The Greatest Movie Ever Sold. A highlight of the Sundance 2011 film festival, this documentary is a royal jab at the advertising industry and a once in a lifetime view of the complicated relationships between advertisers and film-makers. Spurlock masters the tricks of the advertising trade as he embarks on a mission to make a film about product placement, marketing and advertising completely funded by product placement, marketing and advertising. The film starts before it even ... well starts as Spurlock pitches his idea to potential funders with a film crew following his every move. In typical Spurlock style, the director becomes submerged in the film-making process agreeing to be branded, stamped and sold to the highest bidders in order to fund his movie. Sporting a patchwork suit of logos from well-known household brands, clutching documentary collective cups and plugging pizza boxes with his face on, Spurlock ensures almost every scene and business meeting is littered with product placement and advertising. He even pitches products to other companies while on camera to get a cheeky bit of extra coverage for his funders. What this film lacks in plot it makes up for with a genius method of transparency that results in a fascinating insight into a world ‘up for sale’. In streets swamped with products screaming ‘buy me, buy me’ on every corner you can’t get a more socially important topic than this one.


Paul Giamatti in a film about wrestling? Like me, you’re probably thinking that this film is either incredibly funny, or one of the worst cases of ill advised casting imaginable. Add this to a run of what have to be the worst movie trailers I’ve seen since The Chronicles of Riddick, and I’m guessing Win Win probably isn’t at the top of your ‘must see’ list right now. To be fair, I don’t know if I could have done a much better job trying to flog this film. The plot is down right...plain. I mean, try telling your friends to rush out and watch a film about a small time New Jersey attorney with cash flow problems who takes up jogging to counteract his stress attacks. Sheesh. Oh and by the way, he also coaches a high school wrestling team – that’s right, the homoerotic ‘lie on you till you stop squirming’ wrestling, not the Mickey Rourke kind. And yet...this film is a little masterpiece of Americana. Paul Giamatti (playing attorney Mike Flaherty) perfects himself as a family man stuck in a hum drum suburban existence with his wife and two daughters. He mostly settles wills for the elderly while his practice slowly drowns in debt. But when one of his clients is up for rehousing due to dementia, he seizes the opportunity to act as his guardian and make a tidy sum of $1,500 a month, while going back on his word and putting the old man in a residential home. Flaherty keeps this dirty secret under his wing, and goes about his daily routine of earning a meagre salary and coaching a miserably unsuccessful high school wrestling team with his colleague. The film anchors on Flaherty’s decision to break his promise with predictable results... but I won’t spoil it for you. Giamatti is, as always, absolutely believable and absolutely superb. Compared to his roles in American Splendour and Sideways, Gimatti has much less room for manoeuvrability in Win Win, and yet he manages to draw poignancy and finesse out of this seemingly banal story. Although Thomas McCarthy’s similarlydreary-for-a-reason film The Visitor utilised this sense of banality and bleakness to the same effect, the numbness of the first half hour of Win Win is much more successful in pushing you to the extremities of boredom. When you’re comfortably satisfied that the tone of the film sucks, the pace shifts and the plot picks up almost instantaneously. The arrival of wrestling legend and bad ass drifter kid Kyle Timmons is like a breath of cinematic fresh air. Kyle, played by A Serious Man’s Alex Shaffer, puts in a great performance yet again as a pubescent outsider, and the relationships that develop between Kyle, Flaherty, Flaherty’s wife and Kyle’s grandfather, evolve the film into something great. Western archetypes and almost mythic themes come into play with an expert degree of subtlety. The story (finally) becomes thoroughly satisfying to see unfold. McCarthy’s risky strategy of story telling pays off with great results, but the film is by no means the ‘laugh a minute’ comedy some reviewers have implied it is. The lazy, but admittedly quite funny, characters of Flaherty’s friend, Terry, and cocoach, Vigman, do provide the odd laugh, as do general occurrences throughout the film, but this is first and foremost a family drama. If it was a little less polished, you might think it was a TV movie with a great cast, especially due to the heightened sense of moral righteousness that plays out a little too obviously. Win Win is a very small, very modest film that makes the most of a mediocre plot with good old fashioned story telling and brilliant acting. It might even make you feel all warm inside. 7/10

nd, n

The Biggest Live Free African Music Festival in the UK

Saturday 18th & Sunday 19th June 2011 Sefton Park, Liverpool, Free to all 12:30pm to 9:30pm both days

Waxxx contributor Charles McIntyre is going to Kenya with Actionaid to raise money and help build new school classrooms in the village of Marafa.

Over 70 stalls trading the best food & drink, Arts & Crafts, clothes and accessories from Africa, the Caribbean and beyond, children’s entertainment, FREE learning and participation workshops and the Oyé Inn

The classrooms are currently mud-walled and not safe for the children. There are currently no toilets and not enough desks. When it rains, the children don’t get the shelter they need, making them prone to diseases and illness from the cold and rain. The improved classrooms YOU can help to pay for will encourage regular attendance and increase enrolment, having a positive effect on literacy levels in the area. Check out his donations page and buy yourself some good feeling. THANK YOU

a plast•c design

/ P. 32 - 33 /




Words: Joshua Burke / Robert Kingsford Illustration: Graeme Stanley / George Newman


Words: Joshua Burke / Robert Kingsford Illustration: Graeme Stanley / George Newman



Libra Experimentation is the flavour of the month. Just remember though, no matter how much of a good idea it seems at the time, dressing up as a giant baby for a ‘naughty wank’ will make you feel sick the second you blurt.

Scorpio Just as you’ve always suspected, it is in fact against the law to use your particular method of “getting girls.”

Sagittarius Mum’s the word. Remember that Daddy is also the word when you run out of money and find yourself giving blind blow-jobs through a wall in public toilets.

Aries You will find it difficult to know who to trust this month, but come on the bearded guy with no shoes and a bleeding penis is not an ideal sleeping partner.

Taurus It’s sometimes difficult to see the light of Jesus. It won’t be so difficult on Friday at 5am when he breaks into your room with a bag of dead kittens, a rusty knife and a torch shining right into your eyes.

Gemini Your fail-proof plan of getting rich quick will finally work when you pull a douchebag from Newz Bar and your pre pin-pricked condom tears open inside your sausage wallet.

Cancer You will be at the forefront of innovation and design this month when you create a revolutionary piece of software that cures all known illnesses. When you wake up and realise it didn’t happen you will get back on your wheelchair/toilet thing and take a dump in tears.

Leo You won’t know where to hide this month. A sewage works may seem a good idea at the time but being paraded by the police covered in 3 week old shit is likely to reiterate why you’re called ‘the tampon’.

Virgo Laughter will surround you this week, but it will mysteriously stop when you turn around to see what’s so funny.

Capricorn The seven-year itch is really starting to play on your mind. You should probably seek a good Chlamydia doctor quick.

Aquarius The rather upsetting and reoccurring dream you are having may turn out to be important this week when you realise it was all real and the bodies in your bathroom were definitely your fault.

Pisces You’re bound to hit some real low points this month. Just take a second out of your day to think of the poor starving orphans in Africa. Once you get a cheap laugh out of it, just get on with your life as normal.


Retail Location: American Apparel, Unit 93 22 Paradise Street Liverpool L1 8JF Tel: +44 (0) 151 707 1766