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.