Photos-a-NoNo.
Cadging a lift on the Gravy Train of life.
So we have had a bit of a photographic nightmare this month, not only have I lost my digital camera (Im not ready to make jokes about it yet-the wound is still fresh) JoJo has spent the past week chasing down Polaroid film. Yep, its official hunt high or low, the only chance you have of grabbin’ some new films are getting on a plane and going to Japan.
Despite that I’m still ploughing ahead with a much belated blog. Since the last one much has happened, much has been forgotten. One thing that will stay forever is Tramlines Festival…well more specifically managing to cram my body into DQ to experience the sweat-fest that was Eighties Matchbox B Line Disaster. OMGZZZZZZZZZZZ. Their Wikepedia page says that they have all turned to Buddha and given up the hallucinogenics, this may well be true - if Buddha is a code word for Class As. Anyway I don’t think anyone’s seen or heard from these guys for a few years, but boyyyy was it worth the wait. They play a god damn good set and totally tore DQ to pieces. I think I saw tears in the eyes of the security boys at several points. As for me, lets just say its really hard to hold onto yourself while your stood next to a mosh pit…
Aside from the skillz that was EMBLD Tramlines was pretty uneventful for the ASBO lasses. We got to see our personal fave South Yorkshire rap team Kid Acne and his crew. Did I say my fave point of Tramlines was Eighties Matchbox? Scratch that, it was the return of the infamous Clev to the Steel City. We got to session the complete team twice in two days. Our Lass joined them on stage for a sing song (by sing song I mean boisterous bellowing…) at the Shakespeare on the Friday nite (props to everyone who went down. Its so near, but yet so far…). It was utterly brilliant watching her as the full force of the 15 pints of Special Brew she’d knocked back hit her while on stage. I think it was half way through ‘South Yorks’, I dunno what your backing singers are like but Edna likes his swaying and slumping.
if you wanna see us playing out together...get your peepers round these
We’re definitely over it, but we cant really mention Tramlines without a nod in the direction of their programme. In true ASBO style it was noted in our blurb that we’re heavily influenced by ‘shit nites with crap music’. I think by shit they meant ‘kickin’ and by crap they were trying to say ‘totally rippin’. And by totally rippin’ Im talking Pantera’s Walk at 8pm in The Bowery. No matter where you are or what time it is, there’s always a metal lover sulking over a shandy, ready to start a mosh pit by the bar. Indie a-No-Show.
Besides that me and Our Lass went on our jollies. We hopped on the gravy train over to everyone’s favourite European AIDS capital; Doncaster. We fitted in pretty well, if by 'well' you mean not at all...
We did have a purpose for our trip- to visit the UK Tattoo Convention being held at Donny Racecourse. This purpose, however, was instantly overtaken by the floral detailing that this city has opted for on its street wear. Settee and two chairs made entirely from roses anyone?
So after we had wailed over that horticultural ordeal the rest of the event was a bit mind blowing. My feet swelled up so much I thought I was gunna get gangrene in my upper body-seriously how can limbs so small get so big? Its obscene.
We saw enough inked skin to set us up for life- and to make me feel like me and the Lass can fit a few more of our own in without going over board. We even saw that 'loose cannon' from London Ink , you know the one I mean…him with the ‘anger control issues‘. He’s weedy and ginger and never actually smashes owt up, just talks about it a lot. (I took a very poor foto of him, but that disappeared alongside the rest of the 300 fotos on my digital camera that I hadn’t uploaded before it bit the DQ dust. Cue: silent scream). We buzzed off the in-house band loads, Prodigy cover baaaaand maaaan. I think they were singing over a cassette tape of the new album, but at £4.50 a pint it was the best thing going on in that bar.
We also learnt a few things that day;
you have to check before you get on a train (unless you wanna end up in Kent),
trains depart and do not ‘’take off’’, if I were to have a car- Id have a van, not everyone needs to know everything, and that if you haven’t talked to someone in over a year its not fair to throw things at them. It just isn’t ok?
So with tight lips ASBO marches on our busy way. We DJ-ed at Bungalows at the weekend, and it was a joy as usual, this time I managed not to play Dropkick Murphys twice (its becoming a regular theme, I need to label my Cds better..). We were joined by a slice of Harajuku for a while which was amazing, especially the guy with the long hair. He was partying so hard we gave him a badge- theyre coveted y’allz. If you want one - you gotta prove you’re worth it.
Breaking teeth on a daily basis (by teeth I mean teeth).
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