Oliver Wood Photography

It’s a quiet Monday following the usual weekend in the company of Gill and family. Unfortunately we did not manage to bike it up to Abney Hall near Didsbury this time but I would like to go and investigate this old place of childhood memories maybe next weekend. Photos could follow.

I noticed that Martin had a copy of the legendary Velvet Underground with Nico album c1966; you know the one with the yellow banana cover by Andy Warhol. I had a vinyl copy many years ago as it became something of a belated punk era icon and must-have item. The poor production quality in evidence on the CD confirms that my old LP was not a duff cut but instead just as faithful a reproduction of Andy Warhol’s accidental or deliberate bad production. Despite this it still remains a quite remarkable album, stylistically at least fifteen years ahead of its time. But as always my favourite tracks are the ones featuring the extraordinary dark voice of Nico (Christa Paffgen), hardly surprising for a fan of Stereolab who in some ways evoke the Velvets aesthetic as did so many other bands not least Joy Division.

Those of us who can remember the pre-Madchester days when Tony Wilson’s Factory organisation called the shots will recall the gracing presence of this enormously charismatic woman hovering on the periphery of the scene and contributing to Manchester’s very own sense of Warholesq bohemia. Nico became something of a resident icon for Factory in those days, confirming its status as a label that had “artistic values” and attempted to echo the traditions of Warhol’s Factory studio after which the record label was named. There was an equally legendary album (within Manchester music circles) produced by Factory’s very own Martin Hannet that featured Nico and superior reworkings of her Lou Reed songs off the 1966 Velvets album but I can’t find a copy anywhere. It was recorded at Cargo Studios in Manchester c1978 and I can still remember the huge “buzz” it generated amongst the black raincoat brigade and all of those in the know. Yes, Nico shared wall space with Ian Curtis in my teenage bedroom and that kind of sums the whole thing up….you had to be there.

It is quite heartening to see that a substantial proportion of the younger generations are still taking music seriously and are able not only to pick out the very best from previous generations but also develop a taste for more contemporary artists that keep the flame of cultural complexity and artistry in (non classical) music very much alive.

It’s a grey though rather humid day following a whole week of pleasant if rather alarmingly hot weather, you know the thing, unnaturally hot (for the UK), a portentous over-hot that makes one feel as though the thermometer is just going to keep on rising year on year until we all expire. I am trying to devise ideas or even concepts for an enhanced audio aspect to this diary but all unfortunately to no avail thus far. But I think it could be an interesting extra dimension (for me if no one else) a transposition of earlier conceptual “audio diary” keeping. My collection of strange recordings, ambiances, aural “sense impressions”, and commentaries and stories from long gone relatives is probably one of my most precious artefacts and infinitely more engaging than any written diary or even my 8mm film and video archive. But my not inconsiderable audio resources seem to be a little underused at the moment, none however, are portable.

I spent much of the last week with Gill and family in Heaton Chapel, always a most satisfying and pleasant experience. We seem to be passing all of the essential “partnership” tests with flying colours, even working together (another enjoyable feature of the last week) seems like the most natural and uncomplicated thing. However, due to the inevitable time constraints of a working week we did not manage to go on too many cycling adventures. Next weekend I think we are going to see if anything remains of Abney Hall Park and gardens on the Didsbury Cheadle border. I seem to remember visiting as a child, feeding ducks, and hanging around with a group of “alternative” types—I wonder if Abney was some kind of annex to the WEA Rural Studies Centre? I hasten to add that this was all some time before the M62 was built through Stockport, we are talking late 60s!

Gill’s house tends to be something of a hive of creative activity with musical, photographic, painting, and general reprographic activities frequently taking place throughout the night. A lot of guerrilla advertising operations and DIY marketing for websites and CDs is undertaken in the spirit of a clandestine publishing house with a hint of classic “media jamming” aesthetics. A large music room is home to a collection of instruments and recording gear, even a salvaged vintage Wurlitzer organ features in new recordings by Mr Evan Wilson and Miss Talula Hutton operating under the respective banners of Hungry hahaha and Nice New Quilt much of it produced with basic but ingeniously used technical resources and invoking the whimsical feel of vintage melodic folk rock, or new post rock stylings.

Well that in a nutshell is me news for now, the village is looking very pretty as per usual and my ailing camellia has perked up considerably thanks to an infusion of ericaceous plant food—still wonder about returning window frames to their original and more traditional black and maybe even a window box on front bedroom? In a crazy moment I even wondered about classic Cheshire shutters but of course next door would have to follow suite. This place has never had shutters before though so I guess they are out, but it has had black window frames.

Addendum 20:41 hours. My adding bits to previously uploaded entries goes against all normal operating procedure but I feel compelled to note an unsurprising discovery in the music realm. Turns out that Jose Gonzales hails from Sweden and that would explain the unique character of his work, that certain non Anglo-American warp that is constantly drawing me into the realms of Compost/JCR. Gonzales is not new to me as I am sure he has worked in the past with a number of Jazz artists lauded my Mike Chadwick and Giles Peterson et al and may even have been a contender for JCR signing in the past.

It is providing yet more fuel to my argument that there is indeed a certain “cool”, a new kind of “soul” and feeling in music that is being pioneered in Northern Europe and manifesting in forms that roughly fall into the many multifarious Jazz categories including even Bossa and Latin styles. Well there you go; you don’t need me to tell you that everything from Europe is quality personified. I’m desperate to check out more of the Nuspirit Helsinki stuff ASAP, that is if I can find anything on CD as the folks at JCR still seem to have that vinyl fetish and I don’t like unreliable turntables or media that wears out.

PS A few more photos appearing on Gal 2 very soon.

Note to self: Mileage as of today: 6,037.9

Another fine weekend in the company of dear Gill but alas no fire breathing metal ants (see previous entry) as always there are just so many other good things to do (naturally) and so the castlefield photo expedition fell by the way side. We cycled over to Fletchermoss Park again (a small but beautiful oasis in Didsbury) and managed to get some decent pictures of one another and some shots of various horticultural delights for Gill’s site. I should really up load my “tree portrait” to replace the photo above in order to maintain a degree of chronological currency though the picture above is hardly out of date…

The green issue, or consciousness as I like to call it, seems to be inspiring an ever growing number of friends and acquaintances who previously espoused the ideology of the far left, or not in some cases! Gill and I of course have well entrenched “green” credentials and endeavour to live according to principals at all times but again there are times when I can’t help feeling those teeth grinding pangs of youthful militancy resurfacing in support for the more radical idealism. It seems as though a number of folks in this camp strive for a notion of “green” as the antithesis of all that is wrong with modern Anglo American or more specifically Western Society, there appears to be a kind of reactionary element in evidence. A force for turning back “new labour” nabipambism, the more negative aspects of a general social and educational “feminisation” as well as the gross and vulgar excesses of capitalism and transposed chavish culture and material aspiration across all classes; all of those essential matrixes of “dumbing down” and perennial enemys of analytical thinking. A desire to wrench the population away from the somatising effect of an ever more manipulative and degrading media culture and return to “real” natural living and genuine free thinking individualism within a context of righteous collectivism. This is not wishy washy sandal wearing stuff either but sweat and soil, media jamming, anti fashion, subvertising, revolutionary luditism, proffered by hard talking and frighteningly passionate individuals that seek to adopt totally independent life style strategies beyond the bounds of consumerism and the state. But they call themselves Radical Greens not anarchists or Neo Marxists Revolutionaries. Green may be the new Red in some ways but in some other quarters it appears to have also become the new Black. That’s right we are spending a lot of time at the “Basement” and it can only be described as an education and a revelation

What more can we say, I know I could go on and on and cite other commentators that address similar issues albeit primarily concerning ideas of social reform and from very different angles that really have nothing to do with an environmentalist subtext. But of course we must remain within the status quo, see and feel, don’t think and analyze, don’t protest, consume conspicuously, don’t conserve. All non commercial culture is subversive, football and celebrity are the only true art forms, you look smart in a 4×4 on over congested urban roads, and cyclists are a dangerous menace to pedestrians. We live in Daily Mail noddy land for sure. There is of course no hope what so ever, everything is just too badly screwed up but I suspect some people will enjoy the inevitable falling sensation when it comes.

But I digress and return to the weekend. Instead of fire breathing ants we had what can only be described as a mini pagan fire festival though as it was getting dark we had to light it with a Zippo rather than a magnifying glass and straw kindling. I think we even managed to summon up the dragon like apparition of a fire spirit rising up from Gill’s incinerator bin….now that’s spooky.

Current weather: Nimble nimbus moving in nebulous formations bringing intermittent precipitations. Sudden downpour drenchings bad but pressure still rising, weekend good.

Not a great deal to write today but maybe next week there could be a few stories to tell and also we could have a veritable avalanche of photos, though a decision as to where to put them on this now overcomplicated website could prove to be a real headache. Further thought and layout mods could become something of a preoccupation but I am trying not to descend into the realms of total nerdiack obsession.