jamie king

last sat night ryan invited a few of us to an underground club in old street called hoxton lab. i've always wanted to get more involved in the underground music scene supporting unsigned bands (hobbo, dopey, and i spent nights dreaming of alternate clubs in camden), but for some reason i just never got around to it.

anyway so last sat we stumbled into this place not quite knowing what to expect. it was a small, dark place with excellent acoustics (errr... okay). we were there to see jamie king... but true to form we missed him. goddammit!!! but we caught the other two acts - one was a melancholic american lady, and the other was an english dude with black-and-white-stripey-shirt and an awesome sound. afterwards we jammed on the dancefloor to indie classics like blur and... errr... other indie bands.

so... anyway... although we missed him, jamie king, a dude from glenwood, durban, was apparently the bomb. he is unsigned at the mo but has a number of gigs lined up and with any luck, before long he'll have a line of groupies as long as peter crouch.

you can visit his website here.

you can listen to some of his music and read some of his history here.

do not drink and cycle

here is a tip for anyone who is ever going to be in holland ever: do not drink and cycle.

a certain mate of mine who shall remain unnamed (because he lives in holland and we all know who he is anyway) crashed and burned on the weekend after going on a booze binge related to post-minger depression.

however, no matter how minging the minger was, do not drink and cycle... it is not worth it!!! apparently the dutch police find around 50 bodies a year in canals... not homicides... but drunk guys cycling, crashing, falling in and drowning. scary statistic. and it could be you!!! (if you are ever in holland of course. and drunk. and on a bicycle. after scoring a minger. and you happened to ride into a canal. and you can't swim. a very real possibility then.)

even if you do not end up blue and bloated in a canal - you will wake up the next morning with blood soaked sheets, two black eyes, memories of a minger, and no bike (you will have locked it to a random lampost somewhere between the pub and home because the front wheel has taken on a triangular shape from the force of the impact with the curb / tree / parked car that suddenly appeared in the cycle path).

just say "no!".

ps. the author cannot be held accountable for any statistics quoted in this blog because they are not true.

north beach

for all you folks who grew up in durban you have to watch this. goddamit... i have no clue as to how to upload these youtube vids onto my blog.

this vid shows life on north beach, durban from 1995 - 1997. this is pretty much the generation i grew up (i was approx 1 or 2 years behind). the sun, surf, sand, and long hair all point to the north beach grommit culture that was huge in the late 90's (not sure if this is still going on).

we used to catch a train from pinetown or queensburgh down to durban station near the cricket stadium and then cruise down to the beach from there. most of us were bodyboarders. some of us were surfers. i was bad. some were really good. didn't realise the swells used to get that big!!! some of those waves are huge!!! i only used to go out in swells less than 4 foot. i sure do love the warm indian ocean though - it is a great remedy for the soul.

the images of the wimpy, the lifesaving club, north pier, steers, and the stairs below joe kools shown here are so strong i can almost taste the chip sandwiches, the polony sandwiches, the bottled coke (with 20c deposits), the chappies, the tropica, the R3 rave burgers... i can almost breathe the salty air and touch the recklessness of youth.

these dudes in this vid seem cool... i know one or two of them. it's almost a shame that they are chiltern boys and us escombe boys used to smack them about 7 - 0 every season!!! they sure were animals though - i have never taken so much abuse on a pitch ever.

the first track is by a saffer dude living in london - jamie king. he is a really nice guy and the song is very apt.

thank god i grew up under the blazing sun of south africa and spent my life on the sand, and in the waves, and playing cricket in the park, and riding bicycles in the road, and camping at the dam, and having braais on the beach, and not playing games on my x-box 360 in a cramped front room in london.

don't think about what you've left behind. everything is written in the soul of the world, and there it will stay forever.

question

if a dude is born without any senses (ie. sight, hearing, taste, smell, touch) and is fed intravenously, does he have a thought in his head when he reaches his 18th birthday?

danny dumps

this is terrible. real cringe-worthy!!! you will need sound.

worrying...

i have often stuck up for the government at home believing that they have an enormously difficult task and that "the place to improve the world is first in one's own heart and head and hands, and then work outward from there". however being the red dave that i am, i am totally against all types of fascist, totalitarian, and censorship activities - and therefore this article came as a little bit of a worry to me.

retox (03.02.07 – 04.02.07)

sooo... i didn’t really plan a retox this weekend... but guess it was inevitable after my super quiet detox jan. a bender had my name written all over it from the moment i stepped into the wimbledon walkie for a quiet beer to discuss future house plans.

i had planned to sort out the house lease, go home to a healthy lunch, head off to gym, then chill out in front of one our dodgy dvd’s (a certain housemate, who shall remain unnamed because he is portuguese and would kill me, can organise any of the latest dvd’s before they even hit the silver screen – we have recently therefore had viewings of babel, blood diamond, apocalypto, rocky balboa, jackass 2, employee of the month, and errr... meet joe black... five times), and eventually curl up into bed with my warm fuzzy dreams of tessa (things are going well between us... i recently met her parents in one of my dreams).

that was my plan. but the soul of the world had something else in mind for me. and as we all know, you can’t escape fate... or beer. one beer leads to another. and another. and another. we’ve all been there. fcked on the euphoria of being retoxicated. and the promise of women. i hadn’t planned on detoxing on ladies... but they kinda go hand in hand. no booze, no birds. one of the universal laws of nature. like the law of gravity: not immediately obvious, but very real... and one that can have very serious consequences should one fail to heed the warning signs (errr... what am i banging on about???).

anyway so i stepped into the walkie at 2pm. football games came and went. rugby breezed on by in a haze of alcohol. folks fleeted in and out of my consciousness: porto, grant, wiggy all rocked up / left at some stage. the afternoon came. and then went. and still the beer was flowing down my throat, each drop promising to quench an quenchable thirst.

it’s weird. i haven’t been nicely boozed in a while now. i used to get boozed and have sooo much fun. now it’s like i’m trying too hard to have a good time. and the less of a good time i’m having, the more i drink to kick-start me into the mood to have a good time. and the more i drink, the more i expect to have a good time. and the more i expect, the less of a good time i have. until my behaviour becomes really erratic and unpredictable and desperate. and i wake the next morning thinking: “oh my god... can’t believe i did that last night”. and that’s what happened on sun.

i awoke with images of me cruising around zulu’s like some desperado hobo, with a beer stained top, and reeking of kentucky, trying unsuccessfully to pull anything under the errr... zulu’s nightclub roof. and the most embarrassing part is that rejection after rejection didn’t deter me. i just ploughed on relentlessly. the school friends i bumped into must have been shaking heads thinking: “who would ever have thought... he was such a nice boy at school”. hmmm...

anyway... sooo... retox... not pleasant. and it’s def not all it’s cracked up to be. best avoid at all costs. and therefore the moral of this particular story is: don’t detox ever – that way you’ll never have to retox.

bushy moustache?

a couple of months back there was an article on the weekly ale dissing kirk and the growth of his "uncool" moustache. i was one of the few folks at the time speaking out against this supposed "uncoolness" - errr... in other words, i thought the moustache was cool. unfortunately kirk relented to the barrage of criticism and promptly had the moustache removed. goddamn pier-pressure. and goddamn biggotted, backward folk.

as if to personally prove these poor, misguided souls wrong, all the coolest people on the planet have suddenly started wearing "uncool" moustaches. moustaches are super cool at the mo. and i am really sad that my genetic make up is such that, although i can grow hair out of my ears, nothing grows under my nose (although it is doubtful that anything would grow under my nose - nothing grows in the shade).

ps. the lumberjack-style checked shirt is back in fashion as well. you can even wear it open over a white t-shirt like you used to when you were listening to vanilla ice at the age of 13. honestly!!!

so... the current top five super cool dudes sporting "uncool" moustaches are:

5. jack black

you must never underestimate the power of the eyebrow. - likewise, you should never underestimate the pulling power of a bushy, ginger moustache.

4. donovan frankenreiter

the moon comes up and the moon goes down. another sleepless night, another sleepless town. but i got you, yeah i got you. - df talking about of the homely comforts of his bushy friend.

3. jason lee (aka my name is earl)

ain't no use running, fool! i know where your mama parks your house. - errr... redneck talk for "your moustache can't possibly be that bushy"... errr... which in other words implies "has your mom sat on your top lip lately?"... errr... which somehow conjures images of a busy top lip... errr... hmmm... errr... yeah... well anyway...

2. eddie vedder

caught a bolt of lightning, cursed the day he let it go. - ev talking about the trauma his mate felt when he shaved his bushy top lip off.


1. brandon flowers (the killers)

but it's just the price i pay, destiny is calling me. - on the natural urge to grow a country-western-style bush.


1 (too). dave grohl

one by one, i've been searching for something. something never comes, never leads to nothing. nothing satisfies, but i'm getting close. closer to the prize at the end of the road. - on the quest for the perfect bushy moustache.


errr... okay then. hmmm... and of course the all time top five are:

5. jimi hendrix

excuse me while i kiss the sky. - acid talk for "i love my big bushy moustache".

i got a pet monkey called charlie chan. - acid talk for "one should take good care of one's big bushy moustache".

i used to live in a room full of mirrors; all I could see was me. i take my spirit and i crash my mirrors, now the whole world is here for me to see. - acid talk for "you can take my life, but you will never take my big bushy moustache".

4. ghandi

an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. - similarly a bush for a bush makes the whole world naked.

3. john lennon (and yoko ono)

all we are saying is give peace a chance. - in reference to the peace of bush on one's top lip.

possession isn't nine-tenths of the law. it's nine-tenths of the problem. - on possession of a bush razor.

there's nothing you can know that isn't known. - ie. that big bushy moustaches are the bomb!

reality leaves a lot to the imagination. - errr... not really applicable, but a cool quote anyway.

[ed - john and yoko sure did have a cool bush going on there.]

2. jesus

judge not, yest ye be judged. - as per previous sentiments... goddamn biggotted, backward folk!

1. che guevara

the people are never wrong. it is we (the government) who make mistakes, and need to be corrected by them. - che commenting on the decision of all cuban leaders to wear a bush. power to the big bushy moustache!