Friday, 10 June 2016

We went to go and see Steve Davis DJ prog

We went to go and see snooker legend turned aspiring disc jockey Steve Davis DJ last week and it was hilarious from start to finish. Although Steve's passion for prog has been much documented this year ever since his appearance at the Bloc Festival, the very notion of him being a DJ is a funny one. He's a six times snooker world champion. If his house was on fire what would he save? His cues? Or his sevens? It's hard to say but what was isn't, is just how on point the tunes were at his night Dark Matter. 

Co-run with fellow musical nutter, Kavus Torabi, the evening is small, stinky and full of musical wonder and delights. Matthew Wright from Channel 5's The Wright Stuff was on the dancefloor. Steve was subject to a lot of female attention. Kavus has some big hair going on. The beer was fucking strong and the whole place stank of it unsurprisingly. The music veered wildly from rave to flutes and it was all done by midnight. Best little club night in London? Yes. Quite possibly... 

We went and saw the Avalanches trainwreck

16 years is a long time to be absent from the musical world but it’s testament to the charisma uniqueness, nerve and talent of the Avalanches and their debut album Since I Left You that anyone still gives a toss.  

People care because the Australians created summat of a sunny masterpiece in that first release. As era-defining records go, it’s one of the best for folk of our ever advancing years, a dreamy kaleidoscope of samples and car boot beats that sounds as weird, futuristic and out there now as it did back then when we were all about sleeping in and getting stoned. Man. File it next to De La Soul’s Three Feet High and Rising or Donuts by J Dilla. It’s that good.

During their much protracted absence, there have been plenty of rumours, stop start stories and half truths about their return. Will they? Won’t they? Is it them? Or is it a dream? It meant that when the first wafts of stirring first hit our noses a month so ago, they were greeted with some serious snorts. Were they actually getting off their arses and doing something? 

Well, it’s turned out that the stories were truth and the Avalanches (or what’s left of them) are back with a new album WildFlower due to appear this summer. Hooray? Or hooro? It’s hard to say but from the first UK live show we saw at London’s Oval Space last night, it might have been more sensible (but possibly less fun) to let this sleeping giant lie. I guess everyone needs to pay the rent somehow. 

As evenings go, this one was a massive sweaty mess and a lesson on how to piss all over yourself - either the most gloriously punk of all acts or the worst thing ever depending on how generous you’re feeling towards whoever is doing the pissing. Rather than a full band, the Avalanches opted for a deck and effects vibe with Tony Di Blasi, the slightly chubbier of the pair, totally shitfaced and doing a lot of dad dancing. He tried and failed to mix, gave away his coat and necked champagne throughout while hugging his scrawnier colleague Robbie Chater who was gamely attempting to keep it together with a mixture of Avalanches moments, hip hop and Beach Boys. 

It was pretty funny and reminiscent of when we used to do the trainwreck parties as Rough Disko. We used to adopt the approach that it’d be better to get shit faced, mix badly and have a wicked time than retain any sense of ‘professionalism’. We were our own worst enemies but who cares ‘cos we only did the night to please ourselves and if anyone turned up it was a bonus (and meant we could do another). Unlike the Avalanches we weren’t charging 20 quid a ticket. Or hosting a party in a club where it’s five pounds for a small can of lager, effectively making it ten pounds for a pint. Not only is gentrification going on on the streets but it’s also alive, well and robbing you blind in da club too. Bastards.  

But the Avalanches weren’t to blame for Oval Space, the beer prices or even for losing their shit. If it’s only your second night out in 16 years, you’d bound to get a bit over excited. So it was a sweaty shambles for sure but fingers, knees, toes and knobbly bits all firmly crossed for the album. Dear Avalanches - although Frankie Sinatra is weak, please, please, please don’t fuck that up too (much)...

Giving thanks (without being sick)

Well well if you’ve been paying attention to the amount of spam I’ve been spouting you’ll know that a marathon went down in Liverpool recently and my hairy little legs were running it. It would be telling porkies to say it was enjoyable. 

Partly due to the intense heat and the obvious issues with it being about 23 miles too long, the whole thing was a massive mish, particularly the last stretch along Liverpool’s sea front and the final crawl over the line. It felt like doing a (bad) ecstasy droogs.

Here are some horrific photos of the event and nice one/props to anyone who sponsored me. Everyone is doing loads of runs, climbs, swims, hikes, shootings and wanks all in the aid of charidee and being bombarded with requests so the support is very gratefully received. Sorry - bit gushy. Yuck.



Bloody tits

Thursday, 2 June 2016

Bumping uglies

There have been some bare tunes going on bruv and you know what, they're hard to resist now that summer is rearing its ugly head once again. Oh shopkeepers of East London - Get out your blue plastic bags and your Red Stripes. We're coming for them...

See that woman over there with Putin - she's not Russian. She's just taking her time...

Well. Well. Well. Shit has been going on whether it's on the breakfast plate or in political spheres. In the latter the world's stupidest wig wearers (Johnson - Trump) are bashing it out for the accolade of 2016's biggest dick. Who will win? Only time will tell but hopefully neither. Elsewhere, we've been flogging belongings at the car boot, drinking in the Grace Jones biog, deciphering Europe, lookening sickening and keeping it FUCKING REAL BROSEPHS.


Even when you run out of bog roll, they come in handy

Shit is going on in SuperKebab
The Marquis is getting a refurb
At the car boot
Shut up and dance
Saving Grace 

Dalston wo(men) vs Istanbul kebabs

When we told some folk we were going to Istanbul the other month, they looked at us with worry and uncertainty. You're going there? Why are you going there? This was after the recent terror attacks in the Turkish capital so I guess their concerns were warranted. But when we landed the vibe was still extremely large and in charge despite the recent traumas. There certainly weren't many Brits on the flight over and the Air BNB dude Ali (nice, decent, thorough, peculiar of gait) said the city was quieter than usual but everyone we met was totally vibes and seemed unfazed by goings on.

As such, we didn't let the recent badness piss on our chips. Instead, our trip was spent catching ferries, mooching, avoiding the hustle and zorbing between tourist spots while attempting to imbibe as many kebabs as possible. This was perhaps one of the best bits. For living in Dalston it is truly a pleasure to be surrounded by so many Turkish joints (Superkebab - I'm looking at you here babs) but this jaunt was almost a pilgrimage to the homeland of this meaty, veggie, greasy, bready treat.

We spent much of the space in between the Blue Mosque, the Hagia Sophia and Taksim Square with our gobs open noshing. Here are the best things we ate and why yo.

Fish sandwich

Not technically a kebab sure (there's nothing technical about this - it wasn't a kebab - it's a fish butty) but you still need to get this stuffed inside you. You can get them by the Galata Bridge and they come served with a pickle juice. Sit by the bins and try to eat them while avoiding the seagulls attempting to peck you to death. Yummo?  
Kasap Osman

We were on our way to the Blue Mosque when we happened upon this beauty. Recommended by our man Joe Todd we hadn't even had breakfast before taking it on. And why not? If you're not averaging two kebabs a day, then you're behaving incorrectly. 

We had to go down a street full of men smoking and drinking to find this place but don't let that put you off or distract you. It's a truly wonderful place where they even gave our kebab a little hat made out of bread. Whoops... 


This was served up on the main tourist drag of Istikal Street and was a trick you should not fall for. You see these young men slicking up loads of delicious looking meat from the elephants legs on display. But when you go over and ask for one, they go round the back and serve you one of these things. It's about 50p sure but fam, where's the meat yo? 

Hamdi Kebab
This joint is towards the southern end of the Galata Bridge and is elevated. So, if heights are your bag, you can grab a great view of Istanbul. It was raining when we went in so you couldn't see fuck all but no matter, the meat was top class. There were a lot of old turks in here with trophy wives which suggests it's could be a classy establishment. Get yourself in there...

We used this as a guide - plus special props to Joe Todd for the encouragement.