Ha. Ha.

Ha. Ha.

That is all.

I cant catch a break

Pics by Paul Cantrell

Seems like a lot has been going off in the ASBO camp, and not all of it good. But worry not, we will always be around - necking the last of that Good Spanish wine, wiping our pets bums, denying most requests and generally being quite unfriendly. 

Its not that we dont take requests, its just that sometimes we get asked for such tosh I choke on my own CD collection, especially when the request is paired with a withering glare that we dont carry Ke$ha or Aerosmith.  On the flip side, I love it when we get asked to play 'another house song', especially when I didnt even realise I had played a house song in the first place. Confession time : I dont really know what house music is.  But when I ask for a definition all I get is some hand movements and 'You know, like house..like deep. Err, house...!'  Nope. No I dont.

Its times like these when I'd like to sit back and celebrate all that ASBO have achieved.  Together me and The Lass have smashed up the majority of Sheffield, the only venue we havent played is Corporation - but then again they havent changed their line up since I was under aged.  (Joking! We could be dropping some RnB at the local hell pit before the end of the year if Clubfist have owt to do with it).

Ive Mum-danced my way through 100s of sets all with The Lass, we have finished each night with the style and finesse that you can expect from two Northern lasses with a couple of pints of wine between them.  We were the first to drop 90s pop at an indie night and persevered through the awkward silences, until it became standard to slip in Neneh Cherry between The Stooges and Jamie T.

We have become journalists, models (cough) and backing singers (cough cough).  We love being ASBO and we love the DJ scene in Sheffield.  From vinyl loving sweethearts to serato smashing cutie pies theres not a day of the week that passes without someone dropping some quality tunes for your listening pleasure.  Fresh Fruits to Threads, Ugly to Rockeoke.  We are blessed to reside in a city so filled with fun, a cross section of disc jockies who cant wait to poor you a tequila bomb, play you a classic and miss their cue cus theyre tango-ing with you.  ASBO <3 Sheffield. 

Sorry, I was too worried about my personality.  I forgot to press play.

ASBO was visited this week by my big brother,  he arrived in a world wind of mojitos (for me).  Instantly started on the bouncer and spent most of our set doing the 'wanker' sign at me.  I think he liked the tunes, but you never can tell when someones got the glassy eyed 100 metre stare going on.  Luckily we were also visited by this one:

Whose on the verge of being employed as our full time entertainer.  He does a good 90s dance groove, wants to hear nothing but Queen and does a mean impression of someone looking at something really hard (you had to be there I guess).  Anyway its only fair that the organ grinder starts paying the monkey.  Dance monkey! Dance! (We <3 Kieron). 

I laughed so hard my eyelashes nearly fell off. 

We kept ourselves busy this week playing 'Would you rather be in TLC or En Vouge?' If ever you want to stun an ASBO into a catatonic state, then simply pose them this question.  Then watch their eyeballs roll into the backs of their heads while they try to figure out - exceptional harmonies, or bitchin raps with unreal hair dos?  Sass-filled power ballads or new jack swing (no I dont know what that is either).  Our minds have exploded.  Lets never speak of this again.

If you want to be an ASBO follow these rules:

Dance like no ones watching.

Fall over like you dont care whose watching.

Enjoy the beauty and power of your youth, cus before long you will be as old as us and choking on your noodles when someone admits their birth date is 1990.

Dont waste your time on jealousy, its easy to look this stupid. 

Wear. a. weave.

That is all

@asboagogo

Just add us innit.



Your attitude...

Makes me do this.

I dont give a fuck if you dont like my tattoos.

I dont like your perspective, your prejudice or your fat pouty face.

Get out of my way.

A dream has come true...

Ive finally made it into a lads mag.  Its been a life long ambition; since I did that Uni project on the Suicide Slags Girls*  I have wanted nothing more than to be sandwiched between shots of Abi Titmus and adverts for Granny fone sex.  And now my hopes and wishes have come true.  Thanks to the loves at XCVB (if you havent already heard this name- you need a kick up your arse) for letting me ponce all over the photoshoot for their latest line of tshirts. 

 Yes, Front magazine. Yes  Follow this link and find me on a thumbnail

Oh yeah, Our Lass was also a model this month.  With quite different outcomes.  But aren't her outcomes always a bit wrong different?

Anyway, the blog is back.  Kinda like Back to the Future but without the massive trainers and a hover boards.  Sort of. 

*Remember when all the shit Suicide Girls knock off websites started popping up.  Hot Goth Bitches and the like.  As long as you had a tattoo (a Mel C tribal band counts apparently), a bit of fake blood (ketchup also acceptable) an ice cream cone ring/t shirt/ hair clip and a bath tub you could become a model.  Read model, think misinformed teen with photos she hides from her parents. 

Alrite, shit tits

Wowza its been a while since I managed to dust myself down, get all those empty wine bottles into the recycle and focus on some ASBO blogging. Worry not, I haven’t forgotten about you guys- even if you have started saying ‘ASBO who?’ ‘Weren't they once a crap nite out with a shit blog (circa Tramlines 2009)?’ ‘Weren't they the ones that sold out?’ The answer to all of the above is yes! Yes we are. We may have been absent from your modem...wireless internet..iphone (you ponce) but we have been keeping our heads (just) above sea level.

This summer was a biggie for me and The Lass. We started ASBO TV (c/o @toastmag) and were forced to come to terms with our own personalities. It was a hard lesson to learn I am not gunna lie- the only question I have is; how the hell have you put up with us for so long? That and, how the shit does anyone get a word in edgeways with Our Lass around? Answer: Not very often. Add our channel to your faves list and you can catch up dates from us in picture and sound. Although you may chose to exercise your mute button occasionally- just feel sorry for us that we can’t. These are our voices; we have to put up with them all of the time. Often in unison (double trouble).

We headed off to NY aswell- luckly our trip fell smack between a deadly heatwave and an equally deadly flood (and I was complaining about the wind level at the beach. Woops). As everybody knows, other people’s holidays are boring, so all I’ll say is we ate our body weight in Ray’s Pizza, saw the fit McCulkin brother and had Our Lass’ personality read by a destitute Mexican medium – who couldn’t have been more right about her sensibilities. Is it that obvious that she’s a bitch?! Oh yeah. And I saw a dead rat passed out in a bin. And by ‘saw’ I mean nearly touched.

We both hit up the pet hype –ill advised or not (some of us live in ‘pet free’ accommodation) and they’re both proper buzzing! Bug the pug and Chairman Meow the kitten (do not ask) are now fully fledged members of the ASBO cartel. Basically, they act a lot like members of the public who interact with us at ASBO nights. They drink whatever is put in front of them. No doesn’t actually mean no. And they mess with their own shit (one of these statements is only ½ true. Most people accept refusals...).

But enough of the family updates! What’s up for the future of ASBO, I hear you mumble begrudgingly. Well, let me tell you. With four residencies a month you cannot get away from us. Get these in your diary so there are no excuses:

First Friday: Green Room

Second Saturday: Commonroom

Third Friday: Bungalows and Bears

Last Friday: Lescar

As always we are available for weddings (not if you think you can get us for free though you penny pinching bastards), births (although not in the birthing room, I’ve got a proper weak stomach) and perfume parties (yes we can do classy). Book us to perform at your karaoke party/ Rock Band birthday/ anything with a microphone. We proper love warbling down a mic. Even when its 30 mins after closing time and the bar staff are almost in tears.

Pics courtesy of Paul Cantrel (he came, he saw, he took photos)

Look out for the latest ‘ASBO meets...’ in next month’s issue of Toast Magazine. We sessioned the Loveboat lads and they were so funny I had to go for a wee before we switched on the Dictaphone. Things can get messy when those guys are around. Tena Lady, anyone?

Loves xox

PS add us on twitter mate @asboagogo

Tramlines 2011: Excess All Areas

Summer is here!

The weather may not be aware of it, but I am telling you it is.  Schools out and its time to session Our Lass like she is brand new information.  ASBO are hitting it hard this year, kicking off the hi jinks with a true Sheffield party.

Tramlines 2011 is about to hit Dev Green and beyond. 

ASBO a GoGo are proud to announce that we're doing the dirty work for Toast magazine (@toastmag) at Tramlines 2011. We kicked off the long weekend with a super special secret session with one of Sheffield's most exciting music makers. Check out the video here.  Please note, we braved the vomit inducing bogs to bring you this snippet of musical mastery. Identities were protected to avoid hysteria. Let's just say sessioning these guys plus ASBO will be as exciting as sampling Our Lass' fusion cooking (by fusion I mean chow mien noodles and cheese).
Subscribe to the channel http://www.youtube.com/user/ToastMagazine for daily video updates from the festival.   

You can catch us first thing on the Friday at the highly anticipated Kid Acne solo show Kill Your Darlings hosted by the Millennium Galleries, dribbling over the delectable spread of madness that only Acers could get away with.  
We suggest you stick around to catch the Heebie Jeebies gig also at the 'Galleries.  It will be epic, as always.  I cant think of a better way to begin the weekend.  Bring your mates, your dancing shoes and your rum.  Leave behind your twat-ish personality, cus there aint no room for it at Tramlines baby. 
Free for ASBO, free for all.

http://www.toastmagazine.net/

http://www.tramlines.org.uk/lineup/

Photos by Dan Sumption (apart from Tramlines pic, that was another guy)

28 is the new Under 21s

Its all work work work these days for us ASBO girls, so apologies for the lack of blog, but unless you wanted to read about said work you got off lightly in my eyes. More apologies for those who bumped into me in person, I am sure my complaining is still in ringing in your ears now...my voice is kinda screechy. But, hey that is how God made me. And Gaga says he dunt make mistakes...that doesnt mean that she fucking doesnt (Judas, anyone?)

Aside from all this fussing...happiness is on the horizon.  Summer holidays are almost upon us, which means two things. Tramlines and New York City.  In that order, one directly after the other.  So, come Monday morning if we are still mashing it up on Dev Green to the sounds of Ollie Murs can someone find our suitcases and get us on that plane?
 

We have a multitude of exciting shit to share with you, new DJ sets, new jobs as TV journalists and even a dabble with the man above (wait for Tramlines!)...but right now all there is to say is...

ITS MY BIRTHDAY SUCKERS!

Get your animal suit on, get your tequila bought and get partying.

ASAP

xox

Day 3

 So, days 1 and 2 are a bit AWOL.  I think I just stayed in bed.*  I was awoken briefly by a transatlantic (its Majorca, but I dont know what river that is over...) phone call from The Lass.  I was so confused that I asked her if she was on holiday, or if it was all a joke.  At least I think I did - call it post traumatic stress or something.  

*Our Lass has gone on holiday.  Read past posts, I dont really want to talk about it...

Anyway, I can't help but think with all this outcry over the latest ash cloud, hasn't anyone checked?  Its probably Our Lass getting heavy on her duty free lung bleeders over a hotel balcony. 

 Gotta keep busy while the Mrs is away so I have mainly been sessioning Hype Machine crying over both Mona and AWOLnation.  It kinda feels like I am succumbing to a re-packaged Snow Patrol, but there's something about the both of them that makes me feel like I'm about to settle down to a angsty teen flick, probably starring Josh Hartnett or Winona Ryder.  It helps that both videos are equally moody and also that Ive yet to meet anyone who hasn't scoffed at my love of them.  God, I am like so isolated in my creative choices.  I think I'm gonna go write some poetry or make a collage from ripped up Melody Makers (remember those guys?  I miss the free cassette tapes and the blurred ink that got everywhere).

 This is a shitty image of some amazing shots that our good friend and talented artist Taylor Le Fin took in what seems an age ago.  She helps run the Dirt Poor Artists Network which is an amazing collective space for creative people to share ideas, make requests or discuss the ins and outs of the White Cube Space- or something.  Its been a while since I was at uni and was required to write about things with meaning.  So ignore my babble and click the link above, have a look.  If youre lucky they might even make something for you?

  

 

The cuts and bruises aren't real but the intense hatred is.  Just in case you were wondering.

 

 

 In my spare time Ive also been having a go on this http://drenge.tumblr.com/

Someone I don't know once said:

"Do everything you can. Do everything you can’t. Then you’ve done absoluely everything."

Tramp stamps

Does exactly what is says on the skin

Why you wanna break my heart?

Man the panic stations! Ring the alarms! Get your high visibility jacket out of the cupboard (as if you don't own one)... The end of the world is nigh.  No, I'm not on about that Rapture sprouting, Apocalypse moron.  It's worse that that.  Our Lass is going on holiday.  Without me. 

Big deal you may say.  But tell me this- when was the last time you saw She without Me?

Exactly.

Bad things happen when she's not around.  Like the last time, when I ended up being pushed around the floor of the Harley.  On my face.  I wasn't allowed to play out on the front as a child, so I am no good at wheel barrow races.  OK?  It wasn't made any better by the fact that someone had blacked all my teeth out in effort to make me look more like a sailor- I'm not being funny but, what sailors do you know?

So, if you catch me skulking around town looking a bit lost, or sipping a cocktail at Old No 7 beside an empty chair and an undrunk cider and black...just pick me up and take me dancing OK? Save the questions for later.

If you haven't frequented Crystal Peaks for a while, then I suggest you get a lift with Our Lass' Mum and go session all it has to offer; that wig stall for a start.  A free-standing fake hair festival (?) of joy.  It's worth it for the assistant's 1/2 hair 1/2 wig combo at the very least.  Aside from that the 'Peaks offers what can only be described as a time machine music shop.  Walking through their doors is like a Back to the Future 2 mind warp- but rather than the American West- your destination is the mid-nineties. 

If you know owt about me and the Lass, then you know the era to end all eras, is (obviously) the 1990s.  Sometimes I put the Vault channel on, shut the curtains and wallow to the sounds of Neneh Cherry's 7 Seconds.  If no one speaks and everyone's iPhones are on silent, I can actually pretend I am in 1994.  Get me a Tab Clear and shut the fuck up.

Digression...You need to see it to believe it, but a shop selling everything from Space (remember them?) to the Wayne's World OST is worth a look in.  HMV is dead.  Long live the 99p CD world of the 90s.   I nearly chocked when I spotted the 90s r&b rack.  Hello Shola Ama.  Hello Liberty X.  Hello to you all.

Nevermind all this, Im off to bed for 7 days.  Hopefully when I wake up.  The Lass will be home, having a fag out of my front window or messing with my cassette tape collection. 

This week:

 I have mostly been listening to Crucial Taunt .  This one never, ever gets old. 

Getting excited over the Hot Soles and the prospect of seeing them at Tramlines.

Feeling like its not really fair.  I want the Dum Dum Girls to be better than they are.

Sessioning the Clare Maguire album, but feeling slightly under whelmed.  I am not just a singles girl.  I am not.  Am I?  When did people stop bothering to make album tracks that sound better than the releases?  Since fucking iTunes- thats when!

Feeling VIP.  Having your latest copy of the Drenge zine Blood and Milk couriered to your DJ set by a member of said band, makes you feel bloody ruddy special.  Especially when it features some of the Lass' artwork.  Drenge for evz. 

'Can you play Gwen Stefani? 

Ill play her.

What era have you got?

Ill play her.

When?

Ill play her.

But what time?

In 17 minutes.

Oh.

Are you DJing?

No.  We are. 

But they are men.

FML

http://twitter.com/#!/asboagogo