Saturday, 31 March 2012

7 Exploding MileSt.Ones

Me and Cosy were sitting at a tiny round table in the corner of an Irish bar in Digbeth known as The Bull's Head, both of us totally captivated by a big fat girl with a pitch perfect voice, singing karaoke on her own at the other end of the room. I had two pints of Blackthorn cider on the table with a double shot of Jack Daniel's next to them. I also had four or five pre-rolled joints in my inside pocket, zipped up safely within a fake leather pencil wallet. I downed one of the Blackthorns and tried to concentrate on the flat screen TV above the bar.
"Isn't it funny," Cosy uttered, "all these people in here, they have no idea that you are responsible for a fucking crazy event which is happening right now only two minutes walk up the road."
"Thanks for reminding me Coze," I mumbled.
"Come on Miles, relax, you've done the hardest bit, you've set everything up and the show seems to be a success. I've got to FUCKING DRUM later."
"You're right, man, it's better that I'm out of the way, we need to stay fresh for our performance. You'll drum like a machine."
I took a couple of gulps from my second pint of cider and belched loudly, momentarily forgetting about the fat girl singing, I received a few disapproving looks. "The Gruber had better be at least halfway through their set right now," I continued to think out-loud distractedly, "otherwise we're fucked, we could be in serious fucking trouble for time..."
"Miles, CHILL THE FUCK OUT! OK?" Cosy threatened.
"Time for a spliff-break then?" I quietly suggested.
"I'd better not have any more of that strong stuff before I go on," Cosy replied with an air of sadness.
"Fair enough, I'll be back in ten minutes," I said, hitting the double shot of whiskey straight back before heading off into the filmic industrial wilderness of Digbeth, determined to smoke some skunk in peace.

The whole area has this weird, otherworldly quality. It seems so vast and empty but at the same time you only have to scratch beneath the surface to find all sorts of strange life surviving there.
On that note I think it's time to tell you all about a new joint live video EP that I have recently put together for "Bombers" and "Perhower". These two Birmingham based groups have finally combined to create something which puts the soulless, post-record industry, lame HD NME et al scum to shame.
"7 Exploding MileSt.Ones" will help you forget just how rancid popular music has become. It will inspire some sort of hope for Rock n Roll, a concept that has been beaten down into an insignificant corporate sludge, a way of life which has been hijacked and diluted inside a massive vat of crap. I'm putting every ounce of what's left of myself into bringing the good shit together. This is only the beginning. I hope that you can see past the quirks and embrace this riveting evidence. Between Dave Duell's killer opening lines, "I'm on the move all the time, it doesn't help me unwind, this isn't what I signed up for, this isn't what I had in mind," and my final sinister chant of "Lucid Dream," I hope that you would have had yourselves a thrilling time.



Friday, 2 March 2012


Preface? Prelude? Precaution? Pre-death? I'm not really sure which one to use here, oh well, this is just a short note to give you all one final kick up the ass, so any pretence will do. At this moment in time there is only one week to go before my most ambitious "self-organised" show takes place. I'm currently locked into a fairly abnormal existence, I guess I have been for a very long time, even so, the last few weeks have been somewhat more torturous to say the least, but I can honestly say that I'm pleased that there seems to be a fair bit of interest in this "St. Eel" thing. I'm actually just about to leave the house right now, not that you need to know that...such is the illusion of writing, but fuck it I'm DIFFERENT. I'm off to do my weekly care / visit, or in other words - I'm about to intrude on an old man who suffers from severe depression, so I will look forward to getting back to this keyboard in order to ramble on in a seductive way to my loyal followers and hopefully a few intrigued first-timers. See you in a second...

Right, I'm back, job done, not too bad, I even put our bins out before returning to this desk - How responsible am I?

I don't want to lose your already floundering attentions so I had better push on with my pre-gig pep. The main thing I want to get across about this show is how I'm envisaging it myself. Don't expect a theme-park ride, don't expect the ultra-subs and snotty scenery of 'Supersonic Festival', but do expect a genuinely fun atmosphere, do expect some great live music, do expect some reasonably priced drinks, do expect some vivid projections, scattered imagery and unpredictable theatrics. Hopefully we won't blow up the whole place with electricity, but, even if we do, there will still be plenty of weird stuff to chew on.
Talking of weird stuff, I thought I would tease you with a list of all the 'paintings' I will be exhibiting in some shape or form:

1 - "Angry Gook-Honky in Yellow Dust Storm (with broken nonsense pig)"
2 - "Two Sides of the Same Evil" (pair)
3 - "Bed Dream / Bath Dream (with flip-side mousey pill head & snowman)"
4 - "Trip the Heavy Fantastic"
5 - "Miss H - as Birds"
6 - "Painted Over Chicken Transformation"
7 - "Green Sun Bird Train Ladder"
8 - "Inside Big Mouse"
9 - "Vacuum Bird"
10 - "...eht ni wohs eht :leE .tS"
11 - "Naked Woman in Abstract Womb with Woodlouse"
12 - "The Man Who Loved Car Accidents"
13 - "Acrylic Perhower on Canvas"
14 - "Kiwi Man, Fly!"
15 - "The Birth of Christ" / "Bloody Picnic" (pair)
16 - "The Jackal: a self-portrait in oil"
17 - "Sarah Rose: in and on the mirror"
18 - "Prescott"
19 - "If You Can't Beat 'Em Sheet 'Em"
20 - "Buy Coke, Shop at Tesco"

If that lot doesn't get your attention then I don't know what will. It should turn out to be a good show, one to tell the kids about, one to remember me by... perhaps.

In other news, I'm pleased to announce that we now have some decent recording gear at out disposal, thanks to Doctor Scott "The Documenter", which means that as well as recording the sounds of "St. Eel", we are also planning on setting up a studio base this Spring at Gruber HQ in Quarry Bonk. So you can expect some sort of recorded product(s) surfacing later in the year, depending on whether we can convince someone to release stuff for us or whether we will have to bite the bullet once again and go extreme DIY... we shall see. Either way, Scotty is offering his services as the engineer of a new portable studio, as is I, Miles P, a freelance music coach, producer, arranger, copy writer, journalist and maker of riveting images... contact me here -

That's it then, I'll leave you now, kind and patient people, with a few short poems:


Chilli is a drug
It can make your lips and tongue swell up
I like the leathery skinned ones
Packed with seeds
A flimsy plastic bag bulging with little green jays
One day she bought me some that looked like cherries
Deep red, sliced open, orange-red flesh revealed
A mass of minuscule fire-bombs
Bread and butter
Yesterdays pasta bake
And now these little beasts heat up the plate
But wait, this is no foodie sonnet
This is the poetic result of eating Scotch Bonnet


Out of the suburbs
Onto the main road
Past the dregs of hotels
Across the chaos junction
Stuff gets bigger
Fast tanks inches from violence
Under the subway
Smells like a zoo
Out the other end
Where the children play out at night
Made you look
Made you stare


He had been partying all night
Drinking and flirting
Now the early hours
Back home
Eyes open
Not awake
TV lights poltergeist the room
A very blank stare
He sticks his finger up his nose
Rummages around
Finds a nice chunk of gunk
And eats it up
Still no reaction
Sleep sitting?
I'm watching
In shock

"Mature Technique"

Zimmer Frame feedback
False teeth shaking
Winter fuel allowance
Pensioners moshing
Grandchildren watching
Time to throw the Grandad rock
It is not my place to mock
There are benefits to getting old
Mature flavours, tasty mould
Writhe around
Think on your feet
Disrupt the balance
What a waste of talent
Two bands, one name, different songs
It's been a while but not that long
Mat-ure-technique is miles ahead
The musical dream is far from dead

"Bass Camp Riot Piece"

Bass camp riot piece
Play on words
Novel Deceased
Time to unplug this dumb writer's block
Famous personalities are melting in the light of day
Tussauds exposed
Waxworks of souls
An imaginary murderer does an inner-monologue after killing his whole family
Simple clarity
Combine and evolve
Still no problem solved
Walk along the surface of a naked world's body
Skim across the surface of a naked girl's hobby
Don't say I didn't warn you
Don't get caught in the witch-hunt
You're looking like a loser but in the end it might be worth a punt
Car crash comedy
Violent shoplifting
Disco nihilism
Wear your awareness
Usual illusory
Media tomfoolery
Stats will figure me out