Tuesday 27 December 2011

Ill Fated

And the heart of your
once so desired
flesh
no longer feeds my sin.

Even when I bury my mind
into your bosom,
nothing more but a weeping
smile returns
to
my ill fated heart.

And yonder I look
beyond any horizon,
the longing
of your
gentle kiss,

remembering once so young,
we lasted amongst
those weeds
in the morning sun.

For now
I stare
into the bottomless
drink,
the poison inside
returning.

If only I had not
been sustained
by those who thought
what was right
would lead
my life astray.

Because everything now
with its wealth of
obscurity, is
shadowed by those
feelings
and
darkened
by those stains.

Return once again,
if only in a dream
and remorse will swallow
all the pain
away.

Monday 26 December 2011

Monday 19 December 2011

Fish Bowl

Sleep inside my fish bowl,
baby,
dream inside my rabbit hole
maybe.

Curl inside our key hole
darling,
become my plastic doll
honey.

Wake up inside my fish bowl
baby,
come out from your rabbit hole
crazy.

Unlock our key hole
darling,
become my porcelain
doll
lady.

Sunday 11 December 2011

Little Rabbit on a Hill

There's something about being home, where your parents used to live as husband and wife, where your brother and sister still occupied their bedrooms and the assortment of various pets decorated the kitchen floor, that brings a succession of memories to mind.

Starting with the closet in my bedroom. I haven't opened it for years. And now, a collection of ancient clothing, stacked and dumped, curdled and twisted, stares back at me and all I want to do is empty it. Get rid of this past and stuff it into a bin bag. Some items I tenderly pull out, pressing the hard cotton against my skin, watching myself in the mirror, wondering if it still fits... It doesn't. My boobs bulge out, my shoulders stretch the seams and my twenty something belly pokes out from underneath. Nope, really can't get away with wearing this one anymore.

My room's basically a collection of seventeen year old gadgets, posters, CD's, stacks of misunderstood mail, dolls; plastic and porcelain, stuffed monkeys, bears, rabbits and dogs, sticky bongs collecting dust and the inevitable fog of almost a decade worth of memories piled up, ready to be absorbed for lunch.

Some nostalgia hangs like a coat hanger in a closet, naked from any garment, swaying back and forth, wondering if it will come to any use again. Other nostalgia hangs heavily still, seeping deep into the floor boards, creating unwanted rings.

No longer that girl I was ten years ago, it's time I cleaned my past from any cobwebs that might still linger.

And I finally feel ok to do that.

Saturday 10 December 2011

LIVE O2 Arena

This was us, The Unkindness of Ravens @ the O2 free stage 8 December an hour before Brian Adams hit the stage.




Monday 21 November 2011

Jordan Reyne LIVE @ The Bowery

For the past two days and nights I've been cooped up inside my little home, working on all sorts of things, closing myself off from society and gradually feeling the walls close in. Yup, that's what they call cabin fever. So, I was excited to receive a text message that some mates were heading down to The Bowery to check out Jordan Reyne. I've owned her album 'Children of a Factory Nation' for a little under a month now and am addicted to her folk-like yet sweet-sad-growling voice and the luring call-of-the-sea instrumental machinist sounds... And only seconds later I was kissing the closing-in-walls good-bye and heading for the streets to see one of my favorite artists of late.

Having played as well as visited almost every London venue to date, The Bowery, or what was once known as The Fly, was one little place I yet still had to discover. Its quaint size seems pleasant enough, and for a Sunday night, with people moping around with late-Saturday-night hangovers, the event made for a nice Sunday get-together.

Once the angry lady at the door slapped a stamp onto my hand, I headed downstairs with my pint of creamy Guinness, taking in the opening act, Das Fluff.

For a moment there I thought I was listening to a sleazy kraut rock band from Germany, but maybe that's just me being ignorant since they have a German word in their title... Dawn Fluff, female front singer, gives a good performance, swaying back and forth, moving around the stage just enough from making her appear contrived; her vocals ranging from bitter/sweet, to a raging loon storming out of the shadows, I found her at times rather compelling. Overall, I dig their electro sleaze noise and they seem to be a well rehearsed band. At times however I felt the sound engineer could have turned up the guitars in the mix and I did have moments where I felt their sound and look seemed a little dated... However, I did think their second to last song owned just the right kind of pop qualities for Radio 1.

Topping up with another half pint of Guinness I eagerly waited for Reyne to hit the stage.

And finally there she was. Her red hair in flames under the stage light, her black long dress, lightly floating to every movement she makes and just before she's about to hit the first chord on her guitar, silence ripples across the room, as everyone awaits for this lone warrior princess to share her tales of song.

There's no doubt, Reyne would fit in well with a famous Irish folk band, touring the plains of Ireland and spreading the stories of bitter sweet myths, creating that kind of heavy sadness but never losing hope.

And already lost within the second song, 'Proximity of Death' (personally my favorite), my eyes are welling up with thick tears that I try with every inch to hold back.

Reyne's stage set up consists of a pedal board where she loops vocals, guitar riffs and where she stores a host of machinist sounds in order to encapsulate that industrial era of our history. She also switches between two acoustic guitars and her vocal range and style is made up of something that makes you think you've heard it before, but actually you haven't because it's so darn unique you just can't keep your ears off it.

One of the songs that really showed off her talents was the acapella 'A Woman Scorned'. Here she begins with a simple stripped down industrial rhythm sound coming from her pedal board and then looping two different sets of vocals, which harmonize, she then sings over this one-man-choir.

Jordan Reyne is charming on stage, everything you see is real, nothing's a show-off competition and you know that her work contains a thorough quality because everything stems from the heart and that's her language.

I can only urge you to see this woman play live and I promise you, you'll be taken on a journey that will be part of your life forever.

Monday 14 November 2011

Roll Over

Roll over
and move aside
Roll on over,
go and hide.

We are here to stay
and play,
not your game
but by another
set
of rules.

Roll over
and get a grip
Roll on over,
don't be a bitch.

Nothing can take us
off this stage,
not your slurs
your fist,
or your
raging lips.

Roll over
and have a bite
Roll on over,
don't cause
a fight.

Friday 4 November 2011

Little Heaven

Take a slice
take it hard
feel the crumbs
fall from
your lips.

A little slice
not so far
from reach,
a little slice,
a tasty peach.

With cheesy
topping
covered
in myth
I suck your
rhythm,
I suck your
teeth.

A little slice,
so soft
with cream
not far from
reach,
not far from here...



Monday 31 October 2011

Glitter Eye

One day I will make you see
those dreams
I dreamed
endlessly.

One day I will make you
understand
all those questions
you had on demand.

One day I will hopefully
stop caring what you think
and just get on
with
it.

Happy Halloween

We are only flesh,
with a little bit

of
soul

to help us

feel

alive.


Friday 21 October 2011

You had Me...

You had me by the
you had me by the
you had me
no where
near
you had me by the.

I almost believed
I almost thought
I almost wondered.

But you had me by the
you had me near,
but then I thought,
I almost
contemplated.

Once I saw the picture,
once I saw your face
nothing could
disguise.

Nothing could hide.

A plain dimension
so plain it became
crisp,
never mind your status,
you're a nuisance
to blame.

Milk those who believe,
milk those who
are dead,
you are nothing but
a little speck
nothing more
than mother natures
ingrain.

Thursday 20 October 2011

Flesh

Your skin's your mask,
your soul's your eye.

You had a nation
gorge from the
internal
sweaty
cesspit
of your
hand.

You had them
eat
from every
orifice
your words
spread.

Now your dead.

Now you waste.

Now you lay
on the exile
of your nations
haste.

Nothing more
than a body,
nothing more
than a dead
soul.

A perverse
sacrifice
and dead
you lay,
wasted
amongst
the ruins,

of your nations
gaze.

And the
power you
are left with,
a jester
amongst
those
who wave
their weapons
to forever
burry
the meaninglessness
of your
words.

Tuesday 18 October 2011

To be a Woman...

To be a Woman:

1) Make sure you're under weight at all times, under weight means you have power.

2) Never have wrinkles, to have wrinkles means you're old and old women suck.

3) Have a career, whilst simultaneously be a full time mother, and "serve" your husband (which really means making him feel like he's still the 'bread winner' to the family), because if you don't achieve any of those things, you will be criticized.

4) Never have more than one lover, unless you want to be recognized as a whore.

5) If you're a woman working in politics, please make sure you look hot at all times or else you won't be taken seriously.

NB - Women of the modern world; follow these 'rules' of society influenced media, because only then will you be taken seriously.

Good luck out there!

Saturday 8 October 2011

NME part 2

So NME has put our VIRUS video on another part of their website, one that is even more visible to the viewers and therefore increases potential interest in our work.

If you have a moment, please go on this link and 'like' the page, maybe leave a fancy little comment, all these things help.

Thank you for your support!

http://www.nme.com/nme-video/the-unkindness-of-ravens---virus/1198759926001

Friday 7 October 2011

Small Nose

I need a smaller nose

to look pretty.

At least that's what my

grandma told me.

Get a smaller nose and I'll

be pretty like the rest

of them.

Girls.

But when I grew into

a woman

and I grew into

my size,

I no longer was the girl

with a

nose.

I was

a

woman.

Mine

When most happy,
when most content,
words fail me,
words don't exist.

Because I love you
baby
I love you
baby.

With art running
deep in mud,
the heart
poisoned
and nothing
but a hark,

I love you baby,
I love you baby.

You're the first to inspire,
to help me be free,
you know no rules,
no bounds,
a perfect
entity.

With no darkness,
I fail to say it
right,
but really,

I love you baby
I love you baby.

Wednesday 5 October 2011

Pause

Just take a moment, a breath and re-collect your thoughts, feelings and over all physical being.

You are alive.

In so many ways.

And you are free to do whatever you want.

We can be bound to our own self created rules and the rules of others surrounding us.

We can also be un-bound by everything and achieve everything we want.

You really only need three things,

You need to love, trust and be honest with yourself.

Those are three great things which are also, in my book, considered as powers.

We are all superhuman.

We therefore are all heros.

So take a break,

pause the film,

think about it

and act.

By living in the moment, you are respecting yourself and others around you. By living in the moment you are actually giving love to yourself and to others.

And if you want something, ask the universe. Make sure what you ask for comes from a pure heart, something that feels like butterflies in your tummy.

Go and be the person you want to be. I love you and support you no matter what. We are all responsible for one another, because we all exist at the same time. Real love is boundless and limitless and should be shared easily if you're in love with yourself as much as I am in love with you.

Be safe!

Tuesday 4 October 2011

NME

Pretty pretty purrlease with a wet cherry on top, rate/comment our latest music video VIRUS on NME website!!!

http://www.nmevideo.com/the-unkindness-of-ravens-virus

Lots of love from the red depths of my mushy heart!

Friday 30 September 2011

Master Bate

I couldn't quite tell
if I was touching the right
places.

I couldn't quite see
If it was truly I, who,
was making you
scream.

I couldn't quite understand
if it was me or if it
was you
who collapsed
first on the floor.

But somehow
with a satisfied grin,
I knew that
something went right
and
I no
longer
cared how.

Tuesday 20 September 2011

Junk Heart

I look inside your
junk heart baby

and all I see
is
punk art
baby.

I look into
your junk
heart baby

and all I see
is fuck up
baby.

You
ask me
why I bother
baby,

but your guts
are spilled with
jello baby.

I ask again
why you bother
baby,

because your
heart's filled
up like

a

junkyard

baby.

Wednesday 14 September 2011

Nothing My Love

Let me curl in your face 


of dreams as I 


suck the embolism 


from your cream. 


I need you close like 


a hair pin in my nose 


so that nothing 


surprises me, 


my love, 


nothing surprises me, 


my love.

VIRUS music video

Tuesday 13 September 2011

Daphne

In our most intimate
moment,
you look into my eyes,
and kiss my soul
with your beauty
in disguise.
You're my dream
woman
Daphne of the hill side,
you're the one
I dream to take
home.
You're my dream
woman
Daphne,
with your guise,
I embrace your
golden locks
as we sink
into the
night.

(Daphne Lying Down - almost finished)

Sunday 11 September 2011

Bikini Kill

Stills from next music video VIPER!



Dead Skin

Some days ago, I burnt the roof of my mouth.
I made some broth and not letting it cool down long enough, I took a few sips, and scalded the top of my mouth. Along with the searing pain, little blisters formed, the surrounding flesh became tender and I found it hard to eat without getting distracted from my self inflicted wound.
I've burnt this area a number of times, I'm clumsy like that, and having had experienced blisters such as these, I usually pop them with my thumb, by pressing up against the blister, giving it a nudge until a salty liquid cascades out from beneath the tender pocket.
However, these blisters this time, are too small, so I allow nature to take it's course, and begin the healing process in its own time.
This morning I ran my tongue alongside the top of my mouth, the skin felt like rubber and as I twirled my tongue round and round along the dead skin, I manage to peal it off. In clusters, my tongue gave my mouth a nice little chemical peel, and shining out from beneath the dead horizon, appears new, fresh, young, never been touched, skin.
It only took a matter of three days if not less, for this damage to heal.
The reason why the mouth heals so quickly is because it's always wet and saliva acts like an antiseptic to avoid infections.
If only the mind could heal as fast as an injury inside the mouth.
If only the heart could mend as fast as an injury inside the mouth.

Tuesday 6 September 2011

Sunday 4 September 2011

Sleeping Girl

My Next Painting - Sleeping Girl - First stages before I paint her in.

Enjoy!


Tuesday 30 August 2011

Smothered

I soak deep in your black.

Refine my fiber
of ancient stone art.

And bring me back to
the start.

We once did trust our
affair
and now we soak in our
love
and fool all others
with a twist
amongst the ancient
lips.

Smothered
in our love it
seems
from and abyss of
dreams.
Don't forget
our little sweet lies
we told each other
in the night.

Smothered.

Smothered.

Smothered.

Sunday 28 August 2011

Sticky

Your sweet tooth
twists my tongue,
your sweet tooth
makes me young.
As you choke
inside
my womb,
as you kiss
within
my mouth.

You're one thing
I am not.

You're one thing
I forgot.

You're one thing
I missed
in passing.

A minor worm,
wriggling,
as
you taste
the sour
lips of mine,
you forgot
the poison
that I bought.

So forgive me
when I tripped
beyond your wasted skin
of oily flesh.
Once, I truly believed you
were worth
your petals.
Once, I thought to sleep in your grave,
but only after I
tear
my heart out
in my Juliet
of shame.

Friday 26 August 2011

Nothing

We

know

nothing

It

A spell of words is like a strain on the wrist. And here I hang like a dead apple from the tree and all I get is the sour puss from your lips. Because all I know is the desperate taste from your lingering words like it was nothing more than a fake Valentine, my love, a fake Valentine, and your skin was rotten from the lies.

So tell me now, from all the twists and turns, from everything, you believed to be true, how can your sour puss be pushed into the cabin of lies where we once fell upon... your spell of lies,

amongst the turn, when our lips kissed the sides of lust?

And I hold your intimate life of all when we fell once into something we could not

declare,

a purity, when we knew of nothing, when

we knew and do now know that nothing is the truth,

how can you hold me and think your head is on the poison stake,

when all is but what,

and all is but is,

and I ask you now,

you curse me from within...

A flower once told me
I fed her life;

...

with every spill
of water,
the answers
to life are
here.

Tuesday 16 August 2011

Post Cards and Reviews

If you're ever wondering if I write for other publications, I have two examples of late right here, below, set as links. So yea - if ya want me to review anything - I can do that - with zest.

http://www.artrocker.tv/features/article/the-unkindness-of-ravens-in-berlin-postcard-1


http://www.withguitars.com/live-review-ich-bin-ein-berliner/




Monday 15 August 2011

Monster

We are the monster.

We are the
Frankenstein.

We are the makers
of this world.

We are the cogs in
this
machine.
We are the law
the money
the material
the children
the lovers.
We are the married,
the ones
responsible,
together,
as the world goes
round.

We are the monster
the makers
the creators
and the haters.
We are one,
united,
tied together

the beast
of man-kind.

Don't blame your
neighbor,
blame yourself.

We are the monster.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mRjjiOV003Q&feature=player_embedded

Thursday 11 August 2011

Looting Your Nation

I'm in Berlin, staring at the computer screen, waiting for twitter or FB to update me on what's going on with the riots, which has left my head spinning. I have just about calmed down and have started to give everything more in-depth thought, but without the emotional drama.

In my last blog, I wrote how maybe these children, this so-called 'next generation' (some even define them as the 'lost' generation), are in desperate need of a voice, because society has neglected them for so long. Since then I have read countless theories on why the youth of our time feel the need to react with such violence. Some people claim it's our consumer culture, where these kids have nothing, who see posters of material goods that they think they want, but can't have. Others blame rap music and/or reality TV... (even after first posting this, I read another article, which changed my opinion completely).

However, as much as I am sure most of these kids need a voice, someone to listen to their needs and explain to us where they feel things have gone wrong in their lives, I still can't ignore that their behaviour was a disgusting act of worthless revenge for what seems to be, for no real reason at all but that they had the possibility to do it and what's worse, get away with it...

But wait a second... Haven't we somehow seen this before? Haven't we seen bankers, politicians of England steal our money as well? Just because one's wearing a suit and the other a hoody, does it mean it's less criminal? According to some journalists - these kids actually make the connection in justifying their actions - 'if the man in the bank can steal from his country, then so can we.'

Sending these children to jail however, hasn't really kept them from looting, they're taken to jail for a night and then released because of lack of space within the vicinity. I do strongly believe that we are all born knowing right from wrong, it's in our blood, our instinct and yes, growing up with the influence of our surroundings, can muddy our perception. I can be damn sure, that every child who has broken the law in the last four days, knows they did something wrong, but they did it anyway. Just like every politician who cut back on uni fees knew deep in their hearts that this would have consequences.

But does it only come down to children relfecting the injustice behaviour played out by some of the rich? Or are some issues to do with their surroundings, the neglect from school, parents, society in general? Are those some of the reasons why they seek out gangs, or more gangs seek them, because they know that these baron children need a kind of guidence, another form of family where they feel they are understood?

Maybe this is a kick up the arse for England, to realize that things need drastic change on so many levels, and maybe these kids do need a voice, because I am sure for some, not all their needs are met even with the support they get from the social services. Who knows.

All I can hope for the country right now is that they take this as some kind of warning, that something needs to change drastically, that we should not turn another blind eye and pretend it doesn't exist. Because it does exist and there are many different reasons to why it exists in the first place and it's influencing others to the brink of self destruction.

So lets make sure something good comes out of this. Something that will last.

But that's me being hopefully and ideological.

If anything, we can always make sure that as an individual we are doing something right, and hopefully that will have a positive knock-on effect.

As for the kids? I do hope they really know right from wrong and that it's not too late to save them. I hope they do find a more peaceful way in achieving those things in life that they want most. As for punishment? I see a LOT of community service on the way.


Tuesday 9 August 2011

Be Safe

To everyone in the middle of chaos and lawlessness!

Please be safe and take care!

This is a testing time and I am filled with worry for you.

So be safe.

Peace!

It all began with a Riot

So now England's in a mess.

Something we always knew, but never saw with naked eyes.

Now the remains of hatred and oppression lays strewn and littered on the streets, shattered in the windows, smudged on the walls.

Nothing but anger from all corners of affected life boils over and people chant for these animals to be locked up.

Youths of ethnic minority backgrounds stormed the streets of London and destroyed shops, set houses and cars on fire. And it spreads. Like a virus across the nation.

At first this animal behavior coming from these people, grilled me to the very bone and I became so blind with anger that I wanted the worst for them.

This occupied me the entire night. And with tired eyes, I try and find answers to why this is happening. Not that I am blind to the fact that London/England has been pushing out the poor, oppressing their chances to have whatever they want out of life, and the more we inch our way to this fucking useless over-budget Olympics bullshit, I can smell the sour odors of pushed out poverty as society turns a blind eye.

But my point is the anger and hatred that is spreading like a virus amongst the nation.

In my opinion? This is a wake up call, that the oppressed will no longer be held down, this is a smack in the face for having stayed quiet for so long.

I don't agree with using violence for immediate change, because lets face it, there are a lot of pissed off people out there right now and they want to see these kids locked up, they want to see the iron fist come down hard and obliterate their existence. And the question is - will we allow our anger to once again blind us from the need of others? Or will we hold the mirror up to nature and make a proper change once and for all?

So the point really is - as much as these kids have caused emotional as well as business damages, maybe it's time we listened to them properly, not just talk about listening to them, but actually do it, understanding their needs if we are to really help evolve a community of people who have not had the advantages others have.

I am still angry and pissed off and the animal side of me wants to see them punished, but the evolved human and empathic side says, this is a warning perhaps and they are only children who want what we have, real freedom, so lets listen to them so that we can actually make a long term effect of a difference.

And think of this - we were all children once and some of us reading this have children, imagine your child not having what it most wants; a life worth living.

Make love not war; but also don't ignore those who shout the quietest.

Wednesday 3 August 2011

Evelyn

In not much time, Evelyn knows she is going to die.

She could feel it.

Her skin loose, like a thick sheet of silky paper.
With every minuscule movement, air past through her, cooling
the woven tendons of her muscles.

Something crunched,
her bones no longer felt part of her body, instead they were
bags of sand, heavy and unmoving.

A slight panic starts to rise.

Evelyn looks over and sees her body next to her, now a brittle shell of crumbling
ashes, limp and distasteful.
However a little bit of elegance hangs onto the edges.

With one shaky hand, Evelyn touches herself.
For the last time.
The quirky jerk of her finger tips move hungrily
between her soft flesh, the fine hairs
tickling as she moves her hand deeper between her legs.
And with a gradual build, Evelyn climaxes.

Her heart now thrashing against her chest,

beating her soul into a pulp.

Her breath deep until it runs out.

Her lungs wrinkle as

Evelyn says good-bye.

Monday 1 August 2011

French Connection! Stay Connected!

Guess what?

Our track VIRUS is scoring a French Connection video promo shot by ever talented Kelly Mitchell!

Check the link here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=spHfE01kw5k&feature=player_embedded

Spread the word and the love and get ready for our double A single VIRUS & VIPER coming to you October 3.

Friday 29 July 2011

X

I wear a cross now
near my heart,
hoping that
I don't fall
apart.

I wear a cross
now,
inside my skin,
hoping it will
heal me
from within.

I wear a cross now,

with an open mind,

truly hoping

that it will help
me find..

..what I came for.

Saturday 23 July 2011

Burn Out

You had a chance
to say it right
but the words got muddled
in the fight.
We told you
countless
times
that flavour is cheap
when in disguise.
Tell me your wonder
in the death of sleep
as you soak
your poison,
as you weep.
You burned
out,
faded
in your flesh
and now
forever you
soak
in your
death.

Thursday 21 July 2011

Tongue

Tongue.

Wicked beast
soaked in saliva
lathering the tips
of her eyelashes.

Tongue.

Pink with mud,
its long ventricle
a sloth
hanging from
his bully face.

Tongue.

Wednesday 20 July 2011

Brave New World

I can't avoid not having talked about this.

This whole Murdoch and The News of the World dispute. And now? What typical action do people take when they feel they've been wronged? Point the fucking finger at the sonofabitch, create the all mighty scapegoat and cast them out, turning a blind eye and once again return as if nothing ever happened.

Fuck you society.

You're just as much responsible for allowing this to happen. You my friend, have bought the fucking paper, which only further fueled and supported NoW to go to more extremes.

My point is this, how about we stop blaming others for shitty shits to happen and start looking at ourselves and how we live our own lives and begin to take moral action, every single day.

HOWEVER - I also don't agree with how Murdoch is now trying to pull the fucking victim card, like he didn't know what was going on. Have some fucking balls you ancient shit head of a human being. Take fucking responsibility for your lousy paper and say to my face "I am deeply sorry for NOT paying closer attention to my staff and their misdoings. I was sipping Dom Perignon on my yacht it the Caribbean, climaxing as my 30 year younger wife sucked my crinkly-jacked-on-Viagra cock. So yea, please forgive me. Or something."

We are ALL responsible for this world and each other. The whole blaming parents thing is SO fucking 80's and outdated.

You wanna join the advanced human race? Start thinking for yourself. And I mean REALLY think for yourself.

(Apologies for the rant guys. I know anger doesn't get people anywhere. But anger can be used as a fuel for change.)

I love you deeply though, no matter how many times you fall down. It's the getting back up again that makes me proud of you.

Inside My Vagina

Inside my vagina
is a little story teller
with many fables
and tricks
and itty
bitty
witty
bits.

Inside my vagina
only one true thing
appears
when in the dark
she craves.

One thing and
one thing only;

I love you dark
mystery girl
with all your charms
and whimsy,
you are my one true friend,
you'll never let me down
and you'll always tell me
when
it
feels
right.

Saturday 9 July 2011

A Song for You my Dear

I play you a song

from somewhere deep inside,

where I no longer hide,

just for you my dear.

I write you a tune,

where we're no

longer

immune to how

we feel

my dear.

I sing to you

my love;

a little lullaby,

where in my arms

forever

you lie,

my dear.

Tuesday 5 July 2011

I'm a Machine in Your Heart

I whisper

in your ear,

'The taste of honeysuckle

on your breath,

soaks my Iron Heart

in flesh.'

And deep inside

you're in my heart

and round and round

you go.

Wednesday 29 June 2011

Freshly Squeezed OJ

I've started to work as a part-time waitress at my favorite cafe for some extra money, whilst playing gigs, filming music video's and mixing an album (and planning a tour of Germany).

Somtimes I get asked to come in early to open the shop and when I do, I am assigned to squeeze oranges. There's this machine, with a basket on top, where I dump hundreds of oranges into it. As the horizontal wheel spins round and round, the oranges roll down the tube, get spliced in half as cogs the size of baseballs inevitably squeez the juicey life out of them. The syrup collects in a bowl at the bottom, where I open the nozzel on the end of it, filling pitchers with freshly squeezed OJ. I usually only get about half an hour to fill kegs worth of juice before hungry customers begin queuing, greedily rubbing their greasy paws together for a bacon butty (or something).

Today I feel like I've mastered the machine. It's touch and go still, but after a handful of openings, I kinda think I got the hang of it, I found a way to take control over the machine, than it over me as it did in the past. Point is, the reason I felt like I got the hang of it today, was through practice. And to master this through practice, I had to go through various trial and errors before I felt confident enough to get those oranges pressed in time to take orders.

Running a little label as I do, I get questioned by artists and other curious souls, how I got so confident with my work. Pure and simple - Practice. And with practice comes confidence as well as 'perfection'. Sure, you can start out confident, even if you don't know what the hell you are doing, but for me, to be truly comfortable in my work and show the best colors, it all boils down to practice.

So yea, here's me trying to master the juicer, my life and my art. I guess the one thing I truly dig on getting older, is getting better in what I do.

(also a side point - challenge yourself daily. The minute you kinda fear in doing something because it's  unknown territory, usually means you're already way too comfortable hanging out on the sofa. Comfort will only make you fat and old. Wanna stay young and healthy? Face your 'fears' - that's what waitressing does to me, face my fears and keep me on my toes, literally).

My Heart My Heart

I will

always have

my hand

on your

heart.

I will always be

in your sky

and give you air

to stay alive.

I will always have

my hand on yours

holding tight

with all my might.

Monday 20 June 2011

You Have to Be The Cure!

Today we had an amazing music video shoot. I have never been blown away by such talent and focus as I was today. Communication was key today and that never faltered. Everyone was calm, driven and eyes were sparkling.

There's something magical about creating something that begins as a seed in your mind. Forces of all kinds of talent came together today, 20 June 2011, and together we created a masterpiece. To grow as an artist, one needs to graduate from every project and move outwards and upwards, always reaching for the next big thing, never having fear and never saying 'this is as far as I will go'.

There is no stop sign. There is only the accelerator and your foot pressing down on it.

It's days such as these where I know my dreams can also be walking memories.

Every step is a step to something you want, even if it's small, it will always make a big difference later on.

I love you for giving me life and soul and to be human is my freedom.

(My Dancers)

Monday 13 June 2011

Hung to Bleed Dry

Strip me from 


my bear (animal) skin,



I   have   waited 




for 




so      long, 




strip me from my breaths of death,



I curdle you from 


                       
                     within.





Monday 6 June 2011

Suck my Soul Dry

You suck my soul
high and
dry
You suck my soul
until
I die,
You suck my soul
with your lips
until
I'm left
upon
your
finger tips.

Thursday 2 June 2011

Time for Tumblr

No worries! I'm not moving - yet.

But my label has started a tumblr page - so if you're into that kind of thing - feel free to join us!

http://sonicfirerecords.tumblr.com/

Friday 27 May 2011

My Eye in the Sky

My eye
a pearly white
inside your
soul
from a flutter
above.
Your eye
in the sy
vibrating
the surface of my skin.
You couldn't see
all those
little intricacies
when I held
you close
and the eye
in the sky made you
something
I didn't
deserve
to see.

(and time passes)

And now I see,
from above and
beyond
your eye
in my sky
and together
we are
our
eyes.

Inside.

Our.

Soul.

Saturday 21 May 2011

White Blood

Blood spills from the cut in my brow,
staining my hands,
staining my drink...

I don't think I ever properly set myself free as much as I did last night when we played our show. I let go of everything. All the control, all those thoughts that normally squeeze my brain, all those dangly body parts that remind me that I'm human... gone... I was what I truly am... I lost all my inhibitions that I ended up smashing my face into the head stock of the bass guitar (not intentional) as I was doing my seizure moves and uniting with the universe...

The blow caused quite a deep cut in my brow. I remember, when it happened, thinking, hm this could be quite bad... as the set came to an end and I crawled on the floor releasing my screams as I clasped onto the mic, I felt the warmth of blood run down my face, stain my hands... yup, this is definitely bad...

I am not human.

I am whatever I choose to be.

You can tell me what you think I am,

but I'll most likely believe differently.

So blood pours down my brow,

warming the bridge of my nose,

sweetening my fingertips,

that's what happens when you set yourself free,

you (can) get hurt.

But no matter the pain,

the scar,

the amount of blood shed,


being
          free,


if only for a moment,


is
     always worth


the suffering that comes after.

Friday 6 May 2011

Waiting

I have waited
for a long time
when the trees
would fall
and the mud
would spill.
I have waited
until you moved
those mountains
from here
and I could
see the
horizon.
I have waited
from all those things
that touched
those little
parcels
and when they
unwrapped
and something small
poked through
I knew
all the waiting
was worth it

just

for

you.


Monday 2 May 2011

Beautiful Madam floating down the Stream

It takes a lot for me to get really excited about something. Not because my seemingly cold exterior can sometimes be mistaken for a heartless black steeled warrior princess, but because there's just not enough good quality art in the underground scene worth talking about.

Until Saturday came and went that is.

On Saturday night I fell in love with a band that made me feel like I was a teenager again.

You remember those days right? Back when you were rebelling against society and eagerly trying to get home to spin your first garage punk record, hop onto your bed and flip through the CD booklet filled with a collage of lyrics and photos of true grunge rockers, as their sound poured from your cheap speakers, filling your heart with a mixture of sorrow and love and a comfort to know that you weren't alone feeling those things... ?

That's how I felt when I listened to and watched Madam.

And I'm happy to discover that the little teenage rebel heart of mine is still very much alive. Its just been hibernating, waiting for the real thing to come along and take it out of its shell.

That's what Madam are. Real. Everything about them comes from a true place that hasn't been muddied by their growing success. It's pure. It's the kind of art that is hard to come by. Because Madam don't try and distract you from their sound, they give it to you, like a gift, their hearts, literally dripping from their sleeves when you watch them play.

The magic begins with the words softly weaving out from Sukie Smith's lips, to the delicate but sometimes crunching grinds from guitarist John Robertson, to the vibrating cymbals stroked by drummer Jeff Townsin, to the guitar-sounding-bass-lines by Nick Bergin and to then finally be seduced by cellist Sarah Gill... This atmospheric sound sucks you in, and you're lost but found within an ocean of integrity.

Sitting down and pretty close to the massive speakers looming over me, I am sucked into a world of love, pain, death and re-birth. But nothing feels really morbid or really hopeful either; it is what it is, an answer somehow, an understanding and immediately I find myself connected and incredibly inspired.

Madam is a sound where you think you've heard it before but just can't quite put a finger on it. The closest I can get to is Fleetwood Mac and at times I find a hint of the album 'Rumours' bouncing on the high ends of Madam's songs. Or maybe it's the harmonies that float through the songs from time to time that remind me of Fleetwood Mac, creating that beautiful folk-like vision spiced with a psychedelic twist.

Sukie Smith's vocals are incredibly gentle, always a delicate touch within the driving force of the band's pushing atmosphere, but they're never lost, not necessarily because the sound is good tonight, I think it's more to do with the strength, power and courage, which encompasses every lyric Smith projects within her caring voice. Imagine Sukie Smith's vocals as a lilly pad delicately bobbing down the stream in the middle of spring, blossoms swirling from the trees, decorating the grass with pink petals... On its journey, the lilly bumps into the floating body of Ophelia painted by Millais... That's what Sukie Smith's voice reminds me of, a contrast between the beauty of life and death; a painting with such indescribable beauty but never too far away from pain.

The song structures of Madam carry that infamous quiet to loud syndrome, creating tension whilst enticing you. What I found surprising was the sudden endings to a lot of their songs. Once you're seduced into their world, a song would suddenly come to an end, tearing you out from its orbit. Although some of these endings did take me by surprise, I felt it kept the songs from being obvious and left you with wanting more (or maybe the ending's were natural, I just wanted them to go on forever).

And if there was a song I truly wished it to go on forever, it was their last one - a song that isn't on either of their albums that they've released... I'd go back to their gigs just to listen to that one song over and over again.

That's what happens when you're in love. You'll find there are no limits to what you will do for something or someone.

And now, being an official Madam junkie, you'll find me on my bed listening to their second album and revisit those long dreamy days as a youth...

Join me...


Wednesday 27 April 2011

Bounce

You're round inside.

Just like me.

And when
it's dark inside,
a little shape begins
to form.

Like a
caterpillar,
before its blossom;
I curl up
into
a silky ball
within your
flesh,
swaying
to your gentle
song.

Your words
a handsome whisper
to my perky
drum,
to which
I wish
for you
to hang
from.

And with your
ball
      and  
             mine
                     too,

we bounce together...

... f  o  r  e  v  e  r.

Monday 25 April 2011

Time is a Gift to Some

We are born and then we grow.

We'd grow regardless if our awareness of time existed or not. But time seems to be inevitable. So the question is - how do you use your time wisely? How does time benefit you? And when you take the time, what do you do with it?

Wise folk say, live in the moment. I honestly try doing that. I have to admit, if I didn't live in the moment as much as I did, I would be pretty darn stressed. But I'm also human and sometimes my mind can get the better of me and once the too-much-thinking-of-things begin, so does the speed of my heart rate increase and all of a sudden the doubt creeps in and the many questions drown me and not much long after that, it's the crumpling on the bed, rocking back and forth and asking why why why can't I just be like every other joe schmo and join the rest of the heard... ?

Now here's the thing. I was born. Fact. I moved away from home the minute I got out of high school, because I longed for something different. Fact. I was never going to take the easy route and I was always gonna make it challenging for myself. Fact. So I choose not to have a choice but to continue what I started. Because I can't quit. Because if I quit, I have nothing and I will always ask myself, if only I didn't quit, what would my life have been like...

So I go on with my mission. And this mission will beat me down, it will try and make it so fucking hard for me, because only those who never give up are worthy of the golden gates. Do you think awesome things are just handed down to you? No. For the real zaftig shit, you gotta work your cute ass off. You gotta learn to sacrifice your time for loved ones, including yourself.

But alas. All of this is only so good if there is a balance. Balance is harmony. And without this harmony, even sacrifice will be pointless and only cause heart ache.

Time and sacrifice... For some reason, those are two entities that seem to kind of love and hate each other simultaneously. Recently I've come to learn that great things also come with sacrifice. I'm a pretty hungry, greedy little child and I keep thinking I can have it all, at once, right then when I ask for it... But I've come to realize that that's not always possible, that sometimes the good stuff happens a little bit later down the time line and that's why living in the moment, with a bit of sacrifice, can bring these gems to fruition.

I hear people say  this a lot - I will be happy when I have achieved X Y and Z. The thing is, if you think of happiness in future terms, then these 'happy assumptions' will forever stay in the future. Think of it as a carrot on the end of a stick that you dangle in front of a donkey in order to keep him moving. Happiness is the carrot and you're the donkey...  Happiness will forever just be the carrot you see but is just out of reach for you to eat.

True happiness is living in the moment and being happy right here and now. The more you get used to doing that, the more happiness your future will literally have.

For some people time is a gift - When they know they have everything to lose, they crack on and make the best out of the time that they've got. Maybe think of it this way - if you were to die tomorrow what would you do today to make this day the fucking best day ever?

Having chosen to be a creator of various things and sometimes even a philosopher on mild occasions, I find time invaluable. I also try to see time and my various realities as games to be played, because every human has their own world they live in and with every world, they have the power to manipulate it however they want.

Nothing's for certain, safety and the reality you were brought up to believe is an illusion created by others.

Why not create your own illusion and live it by your rules.

No one else has the power over you but yourself.

I am Master.

I am God.

I am my world.

Repeat those lines to yourself every day and true empowerment will come your way.

Sunday 24 April 2011

VENTENNER comes up for Air from the Underground Music Scene! (Interview)

This is another piece I wrote on Ventenner - The publication I sent it to is still developing their website. So I thought to publish this for now until their website's up and running... Enjoy!

It's Friday night in good ol' London town and I'm heading down to catch the much anticipated Ventenner show, but on arrival I'm bombarded with stressed musicians rushing to get their gear out of the venue. Pushing myself through a sea of rockers, I find Ventenner aka Charlie Dawe, leaning against the bar. His expression looks dark with disappointment but once our eyes meet, the gloom melts away. I ask him what happened and he explains that there was a leak in the venue, water was everywhere and the show was cancelled… Well so much for reviewing the live show of one of my favorite DIY artists in 2011. To try and lighten the mood I offer to buy him a drink. His favorite? Whiskey coke. We manage to find a booth and together with his latest addition to the band, his guitarist Rob Wacey, we get chatting. I ask him to remind me of how many records he's released since Ventenner started. Taking a sip from his drink, Charlie explains that he's released a few demos in 2007 just to get some "feelers" out and observe the reaction of listeners; creating what he like to call an "audio diary". He releases his first album 'Dead Reflections' in 2009. His second album, 'Oblivion Revised' was born out of various re-mixes of his songs from other artists who showed interest in his music, something he never expected and is obviously flattered. 
So how's the DIY working out for you?  Rob gives Charlie a quick glance as he seems equally curious as to why Charlie never tried getting signed by a major or Indie label. Charlie clears his throat, " Well, having total creative control is obviously important. Not all labels threaten that, but a lot do. Sure you get the promotion and the management and the big tour with a big label, but handing in an album and having it given back to you with a post-it saying "change it" must be soul destroying. Indie labels, well, they're not all bad, but a lot of them believe their own hype. I hate pretentious arty indie labels."
But did you even try to get signed? "No major labels have ever approached me but I hope they never do. Because if a major label thinks they can sell what I am making as the next big thing, then in my mind I've failed. I'm never gonna sell out Wembley. Not because my ambition or talent is weak, but if I've achieved that level of mainstream popularity I'll have probably stopped being true to myself."
There's something to be said when artists sole integrity is to create art the way they want to without plaguing their minds with thoughts of 'making it' or not, it's clear that for Charlie 'making it' isn't the number on his bank statement, it's the journey of the artist and how he conquers this journey. I ask mister Dawe how it was going with Rob, his new guitarist? Rob being rather silent on the matter gives Charlie a sly smile. Swinging his arms around Rob's neck and giving him a squeeze, Charlie says that it was going great, that Rob gets it spot on, not like other musicians he's worked with, "When you're a solo artist control freak like me, you don't want to be onstage giving it all you've got and maybe noticing that your drummer played seven beats instead of eight in that bar. That's why I've ended up doing a few solo shows."
How are you finding yourself fitting in with London's music scene? In the past you mentioned it to be rather 'close-minded'. Do you still feel this way? "Haha, yes, I've been very vocal on this in the past. It's not just London, it's England's music scene that has turned quite redundant now. Over the last few years it's become increasingly fashionable to be in a band and subsequently there's a lot of people out there polluting and diluting the music scene with utter crap. I also feel that the rock genre has lost all danger to it. There was a time in the 90's when MTV was actually cool to watch and you knew the bands epitomized the idea of rock n roll because they knew no other way to live. As artists we do what we do because we need to express ourselves, it's our air to breath. Being part of a music project isn't an act or a gimmick or a way to meet girls. That's why I love playing with bands who may not be in the same genre as me, but have the same sound. I guess that's our definition of being alternative. We're something different."
I ask Charlie how he would best describe his sound since he has been lumped in with other industrial goth bands out there. He says if people would listen closely and know music as well as they say they do, they should hear Blues and Grunge in these songs. And what can we expect from Ventenner in the near future?  
"I've just finished a remix for a guy in the States called Knoxband. We've been fans of each other for a while, I especially liked his record 'Equinox'. He's releasing a remixed version of it and I did one of the tracks for it. For Ventenner I'm working on a new album, which is going to be very different from anything I've done so far. Another project that I'm working on is called Pixie Ribs with a remarkable singer, Lux, who's pure rock n roll through and through."
Charlie's third drink is coming to an end and I can see Rob is itching to get to another bar, as the scene in this venue has suddenly been swamped with 'suits' so I make my last question brief; What are your thoughts on the future of the music industry? Charlie takes the last swig from his drink and explains, "What I don't like is people hating major labels for the sake of hating, it's a waste of time. As I see it, if you wanna get rich and famous quick, get signed. But if you're serious about being an artist and working your way up, go independent. Who knows, if more artists keep turning down the labels, maybe one day the labels will be interested in investing in the actual artistry of a band or solo artist. I also think this hype to be in a band and make music, no matter how crap you are, will die out eventually and what will be left behind are those bands who survived because they did it right, because they actually have something to give."
I can only hope he's right!

Tuesday 19 April 2011

Sunday Metal & Booze (Live review from Sunday 27 March)

This story's a little late in getting published, but the online mag that I pitched it to didn't seem interested and since I didn't want to waste good writing, here it is! A little late, but, better late than sorry!

It's Sunday night in London, the air has bits of spring in it, warm enough to get away with just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. As I turn the corner onto Hoxton Square, the row of open deck bars, Sunday hangovers brightly chirping over pints of ale, I reach the end of the lazy murmur and am soon confronted with the site of long haired metal heads soaked in leather, studs and silver rings. Yup, I've arrived. On tonights bill are opening act Dark Matter, followed by Seven7, with main support A New Tomorrow and headlining four piece, Achilla.

It's not usual for me to spend my Sunday hangovers listening to live heavy music, but it's not long until I begin to enjoy the cosy surroundings of Hoxton Underbelly's underground music venue, as I take a sip of my creamy Guinness.

As the first act of the evening hits the stage and not knowing what to expect, I am pleasantly blown away by Dark Matter. Their sound's a calming mix between classic heavy metal riffs supported by bluesy undertones. The frontman plays chords of post blues American rock, supporting it with a vocal tone of sensual crooning whilst the hard guitars, groovy bass lines and none-obvious drum kicks, effortlessly fill the silence. Dark Matter write songs that are broken up with a mixture of heavy riffs and slow, elegant licks between the guitar and bass. If you like metal with melodies but that are not lacking in high-tension, I suggest you check out Dark Matter.

Next on were four piece Seven7 and this band is all about prog-metal-rock through and through. At first it takes me some time to get into them, mainly because of the different taste-buds that I have in music… However, gradually as the band bounces around on stage, I become seduced by their noise, especially the fast drumming and the tickling licks of super sonic guitar playing. Over all this is a band who plays tight and rocks out on stage. I enjoyed it as much as I was enjoying the cool grasp of my second pint.

A New Tomorrow it is. I almost found this band to be a little out of place sound wise, although there were moments in their songs where glimpses of heavy metal riffs would explode from the ether whilst Alessio Garavello's vocals cut through like a bat out of hell. I think what struck me the most was how mainstream their sound was in comparison to the bands earlier… Not a bad thing at all; I would say they're a clash between Foo Fighters meets The Smashing Pumpkins. And having listened to A New Tomorrow on myspace, I find Alessio's vocals very similar to the style of legend Billy Corgan. The fact that I am reminded subtly of the Foo Fighters was probably due to their bass player wearing a David Grohl t-shirt and kind of sporting a similar look as well… As a show however, this band gets all the top marks and I am sure we will hear more from them in the not so distant future.

And finally, the stars of the night, Achilla. I tried looking up the meaning of the bands name, I even tried translating it from various languages into English, but the closest I got was Achilles, some kind of Greek Warrior… If this has any relation to the bands seemingly meaningful name, I couldn't say… However I did find the very influential front lady Martamaria, quite the Greek Warrior indeed.
    The band start their set with some wild metal twists on the guitar, heavy breaths vibrating from the bass as the kick drum steers the night into action. Martamaria elegantly and with full force, gets on stage and lets her svelte body lean backwards and forwards, the blond wisps of her hair flying as she hones into the microphone, crooning out seductive lyrics. This woman knows what she's doing.
    As they're just about to hit the second verse of their second song, something happens. Power cut. And yet somehow, I'm not surprised. Yup. A band like Achilla, with their energetic sound, would suck any city dry from electricity. Without the usual flapping and panic stricken faces from less professional bands, Achilla remain cool, calm and collected. And whilst the sound engineer's pulling fresh cables onto the stage as the guitarists check their amps, Martamaria  grabs the microphone and banters on about t-shirts for sale, cities they've toured and how much their album costs. Not much later - Power's back on! And with the show saved, Achilla continue the second song from their set, blowing up every note with purpose as if their lives depended on it.
    And when I'm not pleasantly distracted by Martamaria's performance and natural edge, guitarist Daniele and his speedy scale playing during the solo parts is  so fast, his fingers become a blur.
    Having been on tour for some weeks, this band doesn't falter. Their professionalism is what makes them stand out as the real thing. Their consistency in playing their instruments with confidence is refreshing, whilst the strength of their performance is entertaining but not at all contrived.

My Sunday evening of metal and booze comes to an end. And as I hit the streets, the evening air soaking the shadows as the orange street lights bounce off the cobbled pavements, I can't help but think, this was definitely an unconventional Sunday night indeed and I look forward to more.

Sunday 17 April 2011

Ventenner Arise! (viewer discretion is advised)

It's Wednesday night and I'm headed out to the Comedy pub in central London. I've heard some pretty bad reviews on this place from bands who have dared to play there in the past, so I'm curious to see what all the drama's about. I'm out to see one of my favorite underground bands of late, Ventenner, recently signed to indie label, Sonic Fire Records. I'm also incredibly excited about seeing them with their second addition to the band, Rob Wacey!

I arrive at the venue a little late, just about missing the first band on. But from the bands that follow shortly after (Ventenner NOT included), I can safely say, I wasn't missing much. What I WAS missing was a good part of a pound when I paid 4.50 for a pint of extra cold Guinness. Are you kidding me? I asked the bar maid with outrage and she shrugged her shoulders and said 'I'm afraid so…'

Turns out The Comedy pub is pretty much the grimy red grotto of misfit bands I was warned about. The place reeks of mediocre and unoriginal sound, whilst the promoter greedily rubs his hands together like a pimp promoting prostitutes who've sucked one too many cheesy cocks in their life time.

Just as the second band comes on stage, I manage to squeeze past people and give ol' Ventenner a hug. Before I'm able to get into small talk, bluesy notes come flying at me as Le Moho time warp me back into an age where rainbows were within reach and pigs were flying…
    This band appears to have watched one too many Woodstock revivals. Their gooey mixture of Creedence Clearwater, Jefferson Airplane (minus the female vocals), a twist of Jim Morrison and possibly a hint of Pink Floyd, makes me want to politely vomit into someone's hair - not because I dislike those bands (very much on the contrary), but because Le Moho are a carbon copy of the true greats and their sound is recycled and overly obvious, leaving none to the imagination.
    The best part of the show is when the front man moseys his way into the crowed with raised arms, hailing for Jesus to save his hippy soul whilst simultaneously trying to excite the audience into singing along with him… erm…
    I will give them points for trying to look and sound so hard like the greats that they almost had me fooled…

Time literally drags on and I'm suddenly awakened by the cheesy groove from The Wild Archive. Their pop rock sound slowly grinds me down into a sobbing pulp as I observe some old timers shaking a hip. I guess if you took Ronan Keating's brain and the bodies of Kings of Leon of late (not back when they were cool), I guess that's what The Wild Archive are like… Oh and don't get their name confused with Arcade Fire…

Finally Ventenner hit the stage. They start off a bit rocky due to technical problems. The anticipation rises as the sound engineer runs back and forth trying to fix whatever needs to be fixed. Then finally, the sonic wall of distorted beats and atmospheric vibes increase as their sound pumps through the speakers and Ventenner come to life, starting with my favorite song 'Incubator' - a song that had been stuck in my ears for two days running. And although most catchy songs are the cause of most aneurisms, 'Incubator' doesn't have this effect. Instead, the reassuring beat, the simple but effective vocal melody, calmly sits in the forefront of my mind and with its hypnotic noise, I find it relieves me from any induced stress.
    I'm happy to report that Ventenner's new addition, Rob Wacey aka guitarist extraordinaire, was the best choice the band could make. Having followed Ventenner when it was just Charlie Dawe rocking out on stage, I find Rob, although this being only his second performance, appears to be very confident. And as he plays, he sways forward like a true grunge rocker, dipping his head, one leg forward, swaying back and forth with meaning and precision. Charlie starts off playing some guitar, but into the second song, he holds onto the mic for dear life, sometimes hanging his head low as his arms keep hold of the mic stand; it's a dramatic look, but it's done with sincerity.
    Ventenner's incredibly minimalist when it comes to their set up, something that fooled me when I first heard them on their website - the walls of distorted sound, the overlaps of guitars, heavy hypnotic beats, you would think they'd be a band of four. But Ventenner rock up with one lap top, two guitars, some pedals and LED lights. Simple yet effective.
    What is surprising is the warmth their sound has live and the atmospheric beats pumping from the laptop, shake the floors of the Comedy's grotto, increasing the adrenaline and all I want to do is shake a pretty leg to their sound.
    Unfortunately, because the previous bands decided to plague the stage and take their time to rape the ears of the uneducated of what decent music is, Ventenner had to shorten their set by 10 minutes. As the lights go up and the manager of the Comedy's brothel of bullshit claps his hands viciously to kick us out, I give both Rob and Charlie a squeeze before I hit the streets home.
    One tip to any of you who dares to support any live acts at the Comedy pub - if you want the cheaper pint - don't buy it in the downstairs venue, buy it upstairs in the pub area - I did and saved myself 65 painful pence.