Halcyon Issue 8

Issue 8. Free

IAN BROUDIE

ALLEY CAT RACING

LOST ART

ROSS BARKLEY

BERGHAUS BARBOUR SPRING COURT GLOVERALL PETER STORM CHAMPION LEVI’S WOOLRICH PENDLETON WRANGLER RALPH LAUREN LACOSTE ADIDAS

PREMIUM VINTAGE CLOTHING 60 PORT STREET NORTHERN QUARTER MANCHESTER M1 2EQ

www.bionicseven.com @bionicseven

THE HOMETOWN ISSUE ILLUSTRATION. CHRIS BOWER CHRISBOWER.NET

contents

10.

TEVA

36.

ROMANIA. SKIING. SKIING IN ROMANIA

48.

NICK WATERHOUSE

52.

ROSS BARKLEY

14.

BICYCLES, RISKS, FREEDOM

24.

COMING HOME: IAN BROUDIE

30.

FROM CELL TO SCRIPT

40.

LOST ART

58.

PASSPORT REQUIRED

SEARCH ‘HALCYONMAG’ TO DOWNLOAD THE APP

66.

Issue 8

SOUND CITY

Halcyon HQ 16 Connect Business Village Tate Suite 9 24 Derby Road Liverpool L5 9PR Telephone: +44 (0)151 207 7744 Email: contact@halcyonmag.com Website: www.halcyonmag.com Editor-in-Chief Daniel Sandison

editor@halcyonmag.com

Style Editor Matthew Staples

matt@halcyonmag.com

Assistant Style Editor Boyan Chowdury

boyan@halcyonmag.com

74.

Content Editors Jonathan Frederick Turton jonathan@halcyonmag.com

BEAT HERDER

Ste Turton

ste@halcyonmag.com

Robert Gavin

robert@halcyonmag.com

Art Director Roy McCarthy Business Development Director Alan McCarthy

78.

UNLIKELY STYLE ICON

80.

MOSCOT ORIGINALS

Business Development John Hay

johnhay@halcyonmag.com

Social Media Consultant Joe Connolly joe@halcyonmag.com

Distribution matt@halcyonmag.com

Facebook facebook.com/halcyonmag

Twitter @halcyonmag

To discuss advertising or editorial, contact

ste@halcyonmag.com

HALCYON

10

WORDS & STYLING. MATTHEW STAPLES IMAGES. PETER ATHERTON

Teva (Teh-vah): Teva’s Original Universal was created almost three decades ago, by a Grand Canyon river guide. Combining the best bits of a shoe and a sandal, through the magic of Velcro, our river guide invented the first sports sandal.

Unfortunately, the Halcyon piggy bank couldn’t cover a trip to Arizona, so a trek through a South Liverpool park would have to do…

11

HALCYON

12

TEVA

13

HALCYON

14

ALLEY CAT RACING

S T A C Y E L L A E H T H STREET RIDING WIT EDERICK TURTON WORDS. JONATHAN FR IMAGES. BEN HUGHES

15

HALCYON

16

ALLEY CAT RACING

17

HALCYON

18

ALLEY CAT RACING

T

o most it would seem like a fairly regular, somewhat dreary Friday evening in the nation’s capital.

On Chancery Lane, rain pelts a bus shelter whilst Londoners buzz about under streetlights, oblivious to the sense of occasion that’s building. For a small group of ardent cyclists however, tonight’s going to be a bit bonkers.

as street kudos, yet the social element appears the primary draw.

It’s difficult to pinpoint when and where Alley Cat Racing began. As far back as the seventies though, around the world, illegal cycling events have taken place that would have health and safety officers choking on their corned-beef sandwiches.

Dramatic accounts of street races are scattered across the web. Most document close encounters; grazed elbows and bruised hips. Alley Cat Races in other countries have claimed lives.

How dangerous are these get-togethers?

“I fell over and broke my knee a few years

An Alley Cat Race, in short, is a prohibited fixed gear bicycle dash, often contested without brakes, held typically on public roads in city centres. They are highly dangerous, fascinating affairs.

ago” explains a journeyman of the scene.

“It was a pretty shit situation. When you’re cycling you don’t need to trust anyone.

“An Alley Cat is a good way to finish your week”, explains a strapping German, competing in tonight’s event. “After a hard week you use up what’s left of your energy. You’re racing fast in between narrow gaps, cars flying by and you’re riding with friends. It’s pretty special.”

Nelson Vails was the first poster boy of the subculture, making the transition from NYC courier to Olympic silver medalist at the 1984 games, cycling for Team USA. He even appeared briefly in Quicksilver, the so-shit-it’s-alright riding movie from the eighties, starring Kevin Bacon.

It appears very little Olympic etiquette filtered back to the Alley Cat scene, however. Before the race, contestants huddle outside a bike shop drinking cans of Stella Artois, smoking joints whilst others- those who are semi-serious about winning- make final adjustments to their bikes.

There are a bunch of reasons why people take part. Prizes are at stake as well

“It’s kind of a family, the Alley Cat Scene”, says another international entrant. “Every courier, you know, ninety percent of the time, they have something in common.

Not only the bikes but the attitude, the injuries. Everything.”

It’s one thing watching videos of this stuff on the internet and thinking ‘wow, these guys are fucking mental’, but when you do it, you just feel the rush and it doesn’t seem that dangerous.”

As the race starts, competitors are ordered to place their bicycles against a shop front. Thirty or forty comply, then make their way to the opposite end of the street, waiting patiently for the start shout. It’s a surprisingly formal procedure, the scramble to find their rides; a much more feral, cumbersome affair.

Piss wet, the most unruly riders lurch between double-decker buses, taking sharp corners as comfortably as they put slippers on in the evening. It’s not for the easily blanched.

To understand why someone would take part in such a bat-shit event, it’s first necessary to understand the deportment of the bicycle courier, a job ninety percent of tonight’s participants do. Couriering in any city is a radical way to make a living; lengthy days spent weaving 19

HALCYON

20

ALLEY CAT RACING

21

HALCYON

through traffic- evading head-the-ball-taxi drivers- delivering parcels for the biggest companies in the world. Stacking tinned goods in Home Bargain it is not.

“Eight hours a day in the relentless rain, or heat. It’s a hard slog. If you choose to be a courier though, you have to accept you’ll be subsumed into a community that keeps you here”, says Jack from Subtle Couriering, who organised tonight’s race.

“On top of the adrenaline and the endorphins you get from cycling, there’s this togetherness too. The best feeling is at the end of the day, when you get home and you’ve had to test all the elements.

You feel close to holy, man.”

Couriering and Alley Cat Races offer a large dose of fraternity to enthusiasts, as well as other legitimate positives, such as exercise and adventure. Yet the cruel, unforgiving nature of the job is easily imagined, as wind and rain lashes competitors crossing the finish line.

The tiring and exhausting reality of a couriering gig begs the question: why do these people choose to cycle in their spare time? Wouldn’t a game of dominoes be a more attractive proposition?

“All my boys are out tonight. Do you know how happy that makes me feel”, states big personality and pre-race favourite Frank. “I got a puncture before.

I won the last one, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s all about the toil. The toil fucking changes you. You work like this all day, five or six days a week, alone, and you think ‘this is for me’. You’re battling with nature. You’re like a sailor or a climber. It’s extreme.”

Frank has a point. People rarely experience real physical battles these days, where something’s truly on the line. Street riding, as well as couriering, has a militaristic, gallant quality. A nearby pub hosts the post-race analysis, with numerous bottles of Buckfast passed around the beer garden. There’s a ceremony, where winners (and losers)

22

are presented with awards: first prize this time, a gargantuan ham. This is more than an opportunity to ride your bike.

Competing in an Alley Cat Race, participants- participants who are couriers, at least- take ownership of a sacred activity they now do for a job.

For a courier, an Alley Cat Race is like a radio DJ mixing his own records at night, or a pro-footballer having a kick-about with his kid. It’s for the love of it. It’s also an opportunity to get shit-faced with buddies.

There’s an air of emancipation amongst riders, striking at the core of the social and cultural disposition of the men and women involved. Why do you it? A Polish guy responds who’s on the fringes of the conversation, possibly the fringes of British society.

“Risks. Bicycles. Freedom. Simple words.

I think sometimes why am I doing this, too. It’s nothing for the future. I’m just cycling. I just deliver some passports or envelopes, sometimes race. But I’m a free person. I’m a free person and I’ve met a lot of nice people. We’re not caring about what’s going to be the next couple of years. We are now here and I’m proud to be a part of it.”

Detractors say Alley Cat Races put lives - not only of participants, but the general publics - at risk. Tonight’s competitors aren’t losing sleep over it.

Street races are about freedom and identity. Alley Cat Racing, Street Riding -whatever moniker it takes - is as much a freedom movement as it is a cycling one. It’s an international community of spirited individuals who like bikes, and they’re going to ride whenever they want, wherever they want, however they want.

Alley Cat Races are an opportunity for couriers and cycling die-hards to celebrate the otherness of their lives, whilst annihilating the mundanity of the modern world. What’s going on here stretches beyond bike rides and a few drinks: for the majority, it’s an allencompassing way of life.

HALCYON

COMING HOME IAN BROUDIE WORDS. JONATHAN FREDERICK TURTON IMAGES. MADDY SOUTH

I

t’s a World Cup summer, which means one thing. Ian Broudie’s on your telly in his tinted specs (and timeless Helly Hansen), marching arm-in-arm with Baddiel and Skinner, singing the football song that not even the most stubborn, terrace-hating goth can resist humming along to. Yet Three Lions is just one of many triumphs in an illustrious career that continues to sparkle.

In recent years, Broudie has produced records for The Coral, Miles Kane and The Zutons. During the seventies, eighties and nineties his own projects notably The Lightning Seeds - illuminated a variety of music scenes from Punk to Britpop.

The softly-spoken Scouser recently collaborated with the Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra in a unique, string-infused show; one of the last at 24

Liverpool’s famous Philharmonic Hall in its original guise, ahead of the venue’s £13.5 million pound refurbishment. We caught up with him to discuss musical beginnings, England’s chances and remaining à la mode for so long.

“I’m not sure I have been current that much. It’s not like I’ve been ‘right, I’ll try and be really clever and guess what’s happening next’.

With the first Lightning Seeds single, ‘Pure’, when that came out, The Haçienda was kicking off and it was early dance music. I remember DJ’s at The Haçienda saying ‘oh man, we always play Pure’. So you’d hear it in clubs but you’d hear it in the Indie charts, too.

I think I was just doing what I was doing and it kind of fitted in, in a funny way.”

IAN BROUDIE

25

HALCYON

The Lightning Seeds are rightly remembered as Broudie’s primary project, however before chart entries and football anthems his first group, Big In Japan, were an integral part of a more subterranean, arguably more important musical movement.

Ian Broudie and his band enjoyed a sound musical footing at the revered Eric’s Club; a bastion of punk rock in Liverpool, often overlooked in the annals of British music history.

“Eric’s was for everyone who didn’t fit in, but all liked Lou Reed. We would basically talk to each other at the bar and be like, ‘so… do you like Lou Reed?’

The Bunnymen were my mates and I ended up recording them at Eric’s. All of a sudden that came out on a major label and I was a producer.

It felt like rules were being rewritten.

That’s what shaped me really, that period.

It definitely affected my attitude and I don’t think I’ve ever really changed from that.”

Eric’s housed shows for The Clash, Joy Division and The Sex Pistols, whilst many associated with the Liverpool Punk scene would go on to enjoy successful careers; Ian Broudie’s the most interesting and impressive of the lot.

If the seventies and eighties represented a fight for Broudie and his peers, the nineties was a wave of their own design for riding. Was the transition from Punk to Cool Britannia a smooth one?

“I don’t know what Britpop was really, but I know there was a time when all the music I liked and was making, was the opposite of what people wanted.

Then in the Nineties, I was still doing the same things that I used to, on the outside, but now they were on the inside.”

Sense and Jollification were hit records, yet it was Three Lions that catapulted The Lightning Seeds into the mainstream.

Coming from the musical background he 26

had, was there an element of trepidation doing a football song?

“At first I said no. My publisher phoned me and said ‘the FA have been on, do you want to do a football song?’ and I just thought, almost instantly, you know, no. Not really.

Then I thought New Order did one in 1990 and it was okay. I then realised it was going to be here (England hosted Euro 96), Russia were playing at Anfield and it was going to be great, this!

Around that time, Fantasy Football was on TV and was pretty cool. I thought, I don’t want to sing a football song but if these two fellas fancied singing it… then maybe.”

The song’s unprecedented success needs no emphasis: it remains a firm favourite at football stadia around the globe. Besides drafting in two comedians to collaborate on the tune, were there any other stipulations Broudie put to the FA? “Football songs can be a bit nationalistic, a bit jingoistic. I didn’t want it to be that.

It had to be fun and to be honest; the two of them (Baddiel and Skinner) were geniuses with it.

They wrote the words to the melody I gave them, which I read and just thought ‘that is totally about being a fan’. It’s not about winning. It’s about being a bit shit, but we might win.

It didn’t feel like it was ENG-UR-LAND… you know, being from Liverpool. I wasn’t sure about that. It was exactly what I’d been thinking, but unable to say.”

Three Lions cast Broudie into the public consciousness. As a fairly shy, reserved guy much that accompanied the songs success was unwanted. Does he have any regrets about making such a high profile track?

“I love the fact that I made it. I don’t regret making it at all, but I was uncomfortable at the height of its success.

IAN BROUDIE

27

HALCYON

28

IAN BROUDIE

It took me from an Indie, left-of-centrething that people were into, to the mainstream, which was something I never really wanted. In a way you’ve shut a door, and the door that’s opened might not be one you want to walk through.”

Just after the highs, lows and real lows of Euro ’96 and France ’98 however, Broudie came across an unsigned band in Liverpool that he quite liked. The bambi-like upstarts became The Coral.

Whilst recording The Coral’s first record he met lead singer James Skelly’s friend, Dave McCabe of The Zutons, whose debut album he would eventually produce, too.

“For me that kind of put me back on the right path. I wanted to leave all that England stuff in that place where it was great.

Being in Liverpool and working with those bands, playing them records they’d never heard, it kind of got me back into it.”

Throughout the decades Broudie has interchanged between frontman, session musician and music producer; equally deft twisting knobs as when penning verses.

He’s wracked up producer credits like Hulk Hogan accumulates heart scares; but how does he perceive his role?

“I’ve never considered myself a producer. I consider myself a bit of a fake when people say that. Sounds a bit poncey but I’ve always felt more like a collaborator.

It was frustrating for me because I loved working with different people but I didn’t want to be a producer. That’s what the Lightning Seeds came out of.

Producers now are people who’ve been to Uni and are trying to fill their calendar with jobs. If you train in a studio, whoever

comes through the door, you work with. I can only do certain things I like. I have to really like it.”

Broudie went through a dark period after the untimely death of his brother a few years ago, which resulted in a hiatus from the music industry. Playing alongside The Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra in March was a rewarding and timely venture.

“It has felt like a bit of an achievement and it was a daunting challenge.

It was emotional because the show at the Philarmonic Hall was about playing with the orchestra, but also my lad Riley, Terry (Hall, The Specials), Ian (McCulloch, Echo And The Bunnymen), James and Bill (Skelly and Ryder-Jones of The Coral).

Old mates.

Bit by bit, it got more complex and took a lot of work to get it all connected up. But it’s been lovely, really. Good fun.”

Broudie appears visibly rejuvenated by the experience, and he’ll be playing with the collective once more, at Liverpool International Music Festival, in August.

After a sombre period, the Lightning Seed appears in a healthy space, both creatively and personally: nothing like a stern test to remind a man of his true character.

“At this point, it’s nice to step outside of my comfort zone and do something different, which this has been.

I really want to make an album now, which is the first time in a long time. The last six months I feel I’m back to where I want to be.”

Ian Broudie will be performing at Liverpool International Music Festival, Friday 22nd August, Sefton Park, Liverpool.

29

HALCYON

FROM CELL TO SCRIPT THE STORY BEHIND STARRED UP WORDS. JONATHAN FREDERICK TURTON IMAGES. AIDEN MONAGHAN

T

here’s a growing trend in television and film of works being produced not by writers, but by people formerly of interesting jobs. British drama Starred Up- a stark portrait of the British prison system released earlier this year- is a new example.

Starred Up was conceived and written by prison therapist Jonathan Asser, who wrote the script between intense therapy sessions he led at HMS Wandsworth.

The pastime blossomed into one of the best British films in years.

Asser’s personal story however, encompassing boarding school desolation, pioneering counseling techniques and a subsequent dismissal from Wandsworth prison is as, if not more, interesting a narrative than the one at the core of his screen debut. But we’ll get to that.

The movie presents young protagonist Eric Love who is ‘Starred Up’ (upgraded from a young offenders institute to an adult jail for being a bit Charlie Bronson)

30

and caught in an emotional triangle with his father (also incarcerated) and prison therapist. How did Asser breathe fresh life into a previously flagging genre of British film?

“It was simple, really. I wasn’t a guy setting out to write a prison drama. I wasn’t sitting and watching other prison films. I was living it in terms of my work.

Had I been a deck chair attendant in Hyde Park I’d have written about Hyde Park and deck chairs. I happened to be a therapist that developed a new way of working, regarding prisoners being violent in the system. Once I put pen to paper, it flowed.”

A former police reporter and homicide detective created The Wire, probably the greatest television drama of all time. The duo’s unique knowledge of Baltimore’s social problems permeated five seasons of gold. So too with Asser’s Starred Up, where nuggets of real, niche insight illuminate the saga.

Could Asser have written the script without the day job?

“No. God no. Not in a million years. It all comes from that authentic experience of understanding shame and violence.

It was very straightforward. If you do professional work that’s sort of on the edge, with a certain level of volatility and escalation, and danger, then to make stuff up on the page is sort of therapeutic because you’re so in control of it. It helps you wind down.”

Asser’s laissez-faire reflections upon his triumph will have struggling screenwriters throwing themselves off balconies. Yet there’s more to it than merely working in a ‘bighouse’ and transferring it to the page.

Asser’s undertakings in prison were anything but run-of-the-mill. He developed a pioneering therapy technique called SVI (Shame/Violence Intervention) that allowed him unique insight into both the mind of the violent

FROM CELL TO SCRIPT

31

HALCYON

32

FROM CELL TO SCRIPT

criminal and the prison system at large.

“What Shame/Violence intervention did, it targeted prisoners who were the most violent in the system. It took them out of segregation and instead of separating them, it actually brought them together, in one room, to talk about their issues.

There was very much a sense that if I didn’t tread carefully, I’d be their next victim. It was those guys I wanted to work with, though. Institutionalised, hardened, ‘unreachable’ men.”

Jonathan Asser’s techniques were a first, as recognised by the British Society of Counseling and Psychotherapy, who gave him the National Award for Innovation in 2008.

The success he experienced in his field makes his lunge towards the film industry all the more unlikely and incredible, whilst the maverick nature of his sessions directly impress upon the story in Starred Up. In some of the films best scenes we see SVI recreated, where inmates have a potentially violent situation dangled in front of them.

The technique procured by Asser wasn’t a fake, box-ticking exercise. It was the real thing. Prisoners were genuinely under pressure to become aggressive in the group, and they genuinely learned other ways - non-violent ways - of dealing with the situation.

“I shouldn’t think there’s another therapist in the system able to work that way.

What I was doing was a specific type of therapy for a specific type of dominant, violent prisoner. I worked with them to develop skills to handle conflict in a nonviolent way.

What happens in the SVI process is that people start to talk about shame. They start to look at it, discuss it, think about it and feel it, without having to instantly retaliate violently.”

The validity of the techniques featured in Starred Up add extra credibility to an

already carbon work. Asser has applied the same level of meticulous thought to his screenplay as he did his sessions. The experience of studying the human psyche clearly infuses his characters.

Yet a link in the Asser story is missing.

How did he make the transition from obsessively engaged, award-winning therapist to film writer extraordinaire?

“Shame/Violence Intervention was stopped in Wandsworth Prison in 2010. It was suspended overnight.

They said that the prison population was changing and that my methods were no longer appropriate. Wandsworth was no longer going to hold long-term prisoners, however I’d already adapted SVI for remand prisoners, who might only come to one session.

It was an innovative one-off that was special and different, and needed research to understand what it was that made it work. Because it did work.”

Although Starred Up is a piece of fiction, reading between the lines, it’s impossible not to conclude that his therapy project was unjustly sabotaged. After twelve years of continually improving, awardwinning work, it seems highly unusual the programme should meet such an abrupt end. Destructive envy? Professional rivalry?

Wandsworth’s loss is the gain of the British filmgoer. Asser now has a second work in production, a boxing drama, where he aims to rejuvenate another species of macho movie needing thekiss-of-life.

Starred Up is a remarkable triumph: a powerful insight into the realities of jail and violent tendencies, whilst SVI remains an intriguing case study in behavioural therapy. Whether filmmaking or in session, Jonathan Asser has a real talent for shaking things up.

Starred Up is available on DVD from August 11th.

33

HALCYON

34

HALCYON

ROMANIA. SKIING. SKIING IN ROMANIA. WORDS. JOE CONNOLLY

W

e’re sat in a restaurant at ten o’clock in the evening and a Romanian folk singer has just said “and now a song for our English friends” before jumping head-first into Timbaland’s ‘Too Late To Apologise.’

The sparsely populated restaurant looks on as we try so, so hard to contain our laughter. We’ve been skiing in Romania.

Because I’m void of logic, I follow Liverpool Football Club home, away and across Europe. I’ve found myself in all sorts of noteworthy predicaments but none quite as noteworthy as Romania. I loved it. I’m never going back…

Four of us flew into Cluj Napoca, in northern Romania, we had 8 hours before our overnight train to Romania’s capital - Bucharest. In those 8 hours we made our way to the home stadium of CFR Cluj, where we were promptly chased by men in questionable trainers queuing up for tickets for CFR Cluj vs Steaua Bucharest. We retreated to the deceptively named Roland Garros bar in central Cluj and played electronic darts for 6 hours. We’d paid for First Class on our overnight train, which got us bunk beds and a tap that didn’t work. The only way I could get through the night was to torment my loyal friend Phil. I wouldn’t let him go to sleep until he’d written me a pop song. Hours passed. Eventually, at 4:30 in the morning, he obliged and reluctantly sang “You’re my Tokyo lover, you’ve got an iPod Nano” I laughed 36

hysterically and let him sleep. The next two nights were spent avoiding packs of stray dogs, watching the football and singing Phil’s pop song at any given opportunity. We beat Unirea Urziceni 1-3.

There’s a certain type of person that goes skiing and it’s certainly not us. One friend thought Après-ski meant eating outdoors and another thought it was a cereal bar. If, like us, you’re not really a Ski person then the resort of Poiana Brasov might just be for you. According to the website it’s “The biggest and most luxurious winter resort in Romania”. That was enough for us to prolong our trip by three days and take the 4 hour train from Bucharest to Brasov.

It feels a bit like they’ve built loads of hotels, some ski lifts and forgotten to check the weather. The lack of any visible snow didn’t dampen our spirits too much however, because the hotel was much nicer than “The Funky Chicken” Hostel we’d stayed in in Bucharest. The Ski hire was comically cheap and lift passes were the same. I mastered skiing remarkably quickly. I could stand up, turn and go forward. All the good bits. Couldn’t stop, though and that quickly became an issue.

There is no feeling quite like gaining momentum with no way of slowing down and the only certainty in your life being that you *will* hurt yourself, it’s just a case of when, and how badly.

SKIING IN ROMANIA

37

HALCYON

The Après-ski was fantastic. Sort of. We found a traditional restaurant where we were serenaded in our native tongue, then moved on to the intimidatingly named Avalanche nightclub. It had plasma screens outside showing the CRAZY goings on inside. Girls stood on the bar, champagne getting passed over peoples heads, the lot. Turns out that was a pre-recording and it was just us and a few curious looking locals.

Nevertheless, due to it being £1.00 a pint, we had a fantastic time. Poiana Brasov is the type of place that you really want to do well. They’ve tried really, really hard and the locals are friendly, helpful and sing Timbaland songs at you. You should all go.

We left Poiana Brasov at 5am to catch a train to Bucharest. I’ve never, ever been so tired. I’d spent two entire days falling over, something an adult male should not be spending two entire days doing. We trudged into the station, like beaten men returning from battle. I was eating a stale bread roll to complete the look. We were suddenly approached by 20-odd frightening men chanting “BU-CHA-REST HOO-LI-GANS”. A quick glance around my friends confirmed what I feared, we 38

had absolutely no intention of putting up any form of fight. They were welcome to everything. Even my stale bread roll.

They were neo-Nazi Steaua Bucharest supporters on their way to Cluj for their game against CFR Cluj.

“Oh yeah? We were outisde their ground the other day mate, had to get off because it got a bit on top” “Kiss me for the brotherhood” “No thanks” - It went on like this for a few minutes and the more we refused to kiss them, the more aggressive they got.

As far as I was concerned, it was curtains for me and my stale bread roll. Then, a big massive wardrobe of a man appeared from behind some lockers and marched towards us purposefully. He got towards my friend Phil and bellowed, “YOU’RE MY TOKYO LOVER”. I dropped my stale bread roll. They’d been on the same tram as us three days earlier in Bucharest and had listened to us singing Phil’s pop song. A song they now claimed as their own, the aggression turned to laughter and we were safe.

I’ll probably never go back to Poiana Brasov. I’m glad I went.

SKIING IN ROMANIA

A quick glance around my friends confirmed what I feared, we had absolutely no intention of putting up any form of fight. They were welcome to everything.

Even my stale bread roll.

39

HALCYON

40

LOST ART

LOST ART FIFTEEN YEARS DEEP WORDS. DANIEL SANDISON IMAGES. PAUL MORTIMER THINGANDWHERE.COM

L

ost Art is a Liverpool institution.

For fifteen years it has been a subculture waiting to erupt.

Bubbling under and threatening to disrupt the status-quo of affable post-casual re-issue peddlers and faux-heritage nonsense that have become ubiquitous on Merseyside.

Whilst skateboarding remains a broadly alternative pursuit in the city, Dave Mackey’s store has began to reap the benefits of a decade-and-a-half of refusing to compromise.

“It’s probably the last five years that Scousers who don’t skate have started to take an interest and have come in to buy our shirts” explains Mackey, seemingly still impressed that his creation has crossed over in such a manner.

“They stand out, not in a bad way, but they’re not our typical customers. A few years back someone from the Everton first team came in to buy stuff and there was this big hoo-ha. I didn’t know who the fuck he was, but that was when we started to think that we were getting across to a completely different crowd.”

Playing second fiddle to football is a fact of life for any cultural endeavour within Liverpool’s confines, but a keen knowledge of what makes Scousers tick has ensured that Lost Art has sewn itself

neatly into the fabric of the city.

“We did a shirt that was a take on a very famous brand that was synonymous with Liverpool at the time. It was a joke, at first. It was our tongue-in-cheek way of saying ‘look, we’re from Liverpool’, but that seems to have moved us forward.

It’s crossed over and now it’s sought-after all over the world. It’s gone crazy” Whilst Liverpool and Skateboarding may seem at crossed purposes, uncomfortable bed-fellows in a society clamouring for limited edition footwear, Lost Art – to even the most casual of observers – has begun to make a dent in how Scousers are represented. Much like the mythical Peter Storms and Forest Hills of yore, that small green crocodile – that they so smartly reclaimed - has bestowed its wearers with a sense of belonging. Is Lost Art one big family?

Or are we doing that over-sentimental thing that Conservative politicians accuse Merseysiders of sometimes?

“It’s unusual, with Liverpool, that it doesn’t have a skate park within the city centre. Predominantly kids street skate here. It’s like that New York thing, you get kids skating round and interacting with everyday life. That’s missing from a lot of cities, but here it is very much part of it.

That way, you still get rough city kids who 41

HALCYON

skate. Kids from inside and outside of the city who are perhaps using skateboarding as an escape from a pretty shitty way of life. That’s hopefully still true today. We hope the store is an environment that invites those characters to come and be a part of it. It’s great that we can be part of that with them. We’ve grown up with them.”

Mackey speaks about his store’s impact on a rapidly changing Liverpool with a refreshing lack of arrogance or pretence.

It’s no exaggeration to claim that Lost Art, and those involved with the store, have genuinely transformed lives, given kids a purpose within Liverpool and provided much-needed rejuvenation to a youth culture that hadn’t truly changed since the early 1980s. So how does he go about balancing this role as unofficial skate youth worker with shifting shoes, looking after his own young family and, very now and again, doing some skateboarding?

“I’m skating barely once a month, if I get chance. Unless I’m filming for something.

If I could skate every day I would, for sure. It’s hard to find the time with family and the store, but I still ride for Nike and I ride for The National. I very much still partake. I hope that come across with the store, that I’m still very much active in that aspect. We’ve been trying to make a Lost Art film for fifteen years now, so hopefully I’ll put in some time for that and we’ll get it done. It’s exciting, still.”

After fifteen years Dave Mackey seems as comfortable with Lost Art, as his store sits comfortably within the city.

He speaks with the same enthusiastic fervour about plans for his own shop, as he does about visiting Supreme on a trip to New York in the 1990s. Skateboarding and skate culture may be on the upand-up worldwide, but in a corner of Liverpool he, and a tight-knit family of collaborators, are the same as they ever were. It’s still working.

Look out for more celebrations of 15 years of Lost Art over at lostartshop.co.uk

42

LOST ART

43

HALCYON

44

LOST ART

45

HALCYON

46

LOST ART

47

HALCYON

L.A. MAN NICK WATERHOUSE WORDS. STE TURTON IMAGES. CARRIE BUDGE

A

n elated Nick Waterhouse walks off stage at Hackney’s Oslo, leaving his band to finish-off a highoctane, old-school-bluesy set.

He’s a long way from the L.A dive bars where he made his name.

Entering the foyer of Hyde Park’s Columbia Hotel- roughly twelve hours later- the Californian’s looking a little ropey. Sporting some uncharacteristic stubble below a pair of classic Moscot shades and clutching a cranberry soft drink, it’s clear last night’s end of tour engagements went on a little later than the encore.

“Yeah, it was a blow out. We ended around 6am in a little underground jazz club in Soho. I’ve been on longer tours, but this round started in February covering both American coasts, then we came out here. Five shows in Spain, eight elsewhere in Europe.”

Surprisingly, just one of those European dates - booked to coincide with the release of Waterhouse’s second solo album Holly - took place on British soil.

Flipping from shades to regular frames whilst turning, now, to black coffee for hangover salvation, he explains why.

“To be honest, I’ve had a hard time breaking England. The UK in general.

48

It’s funny, I always felt like such an independent artist. When my debut came out over here, there was a weird misperception of it being this pop record, because of all the horns involved.

People were like ‘aw man, 2007 already happened… Amy Winehouse, Duffy’. I think there was this push in the UK to exploit the throw-back thing as a pop device, but yeah, it’s where I’m coming from genuinely.”

If the songs alone don’t register that his take on vintage RnB is done so in earnest, conversation quickly validates his musical existence as legit. He reels off a whole host of inspirations, from Mose Allison to relatively unknown 60’s soul singer Charles Sheffield; but where did it all kick off? Was there a specific record that acted as a catalyst for this particular young white kid’s exploration into rhythm and blues?

“For me, it’s more like small explosions.

A bunch of skirmishes make a battle, it doesn’t happen all at once, right? I was regularly exposed to John Lee Hooker, Aretha Franklin, etc. Europeans respect and revere that kind of music but it’s almost like background noise in America.

We take it for granted, like water or air.

I’d hear this stuff on everything, all of the time and would be like ‘ok, this is music’.”

L.A. MAN

49

HALCYON

It would take some time for an adolescent Waterhouse to appreciate fully, the importance of the sounds he’d previously been over-exposed to. British RnB bands and American garage rock acts helped to reframe the sound he’d grown up with; a model for reinterpreting music he’d eventually follow.

Waterhouse multi-tasks within his discipline, interchanging regularly between the role of solo artist, writer, producer and performer. Does he enjoy, or even feel more adept, in one specific area of his work?

“I think in these big abstract picture concepts, where every bit rewards differently but is all part of the same. It’s all interconnected in my mind. There are times when I get frustrated and need to go away from just playing guitar or singing. I know if I bounce between all these things, I can create my own perpetual motion machine.”

Although recently recording fifteen tracks back home for the follow-up to AllahLas’ self-titled debut, it’s Waterhouse’s own material that has him so far from The Golden State. With a more sedate 50

tone and the replacement, in parts, of his first album’s pacey brass hooks with Manzarek-esque keyboard riffs, Holly feels as though it’s reflecting on the chaotic action of its predecessor.

“Time’s All Gone was basically a giant breakup record. I was kinda going through this personal disaster, which helped propel my career, completely melting down but trying to work through.

The music really saved me. There’s a great essay by T.S. Elliot, talking about modernism in poetry and how even if it’s about ‘this thing’ it’s actually about ‘the thing’. You could be looking out the window of your study and see your child get hit by a car. For the next ten years everything you write about is the child getting hit by the car, even if you never write a word about a child getting hit by a car, you know what I mean? All the dark stuff from Holly was coming out of that place. I’ll be functioning from the experience of Time’s All Gone for the rest of my career.”

It hasn’t all been doom and gloom for the organ grinder of the California music scene, however. Hustling between LA, San Francisco and Oakland, creating

works with an assortment of characters, it’s been a highly enjoyable if somewhat frantic ride.

An avid movie fan that studied cinema at university in San Francisco, Waterhouse’s latest album is dedicated to Robert Towne, the director of cult classic films Chinatown and The Last Detail. Yet his creative style in his chosen field shares direct parallels with another big-screen Los Angeles success story, Quentin Tarantino.

The Reservoir Dogs director swatted-up on film behind the counter of various LA video stores, whilst a young Waterhouse got to grips with vinyl working at record shops in the same area. Both artists pay a heavy amount of homage to their predecessors and have a penchant for intertextualisation.

Is the twenty-seven year old developing into a musical auteur? Was having his songs and production techniques instantly recognised something he setout to achieve?

“Yeah, straight from the beginning I wanted a sound. It’s funny that you

L.A. MAN

mention him (Tarantino). When he talks about his thing he’s totally indebted to the French New Wave and that totally ties in.

Those guys were the first to say ‘right, we can take whatever we want from the stuff we like… Hitchcock films, Bergman, 40s film noir stuff.’ They got rid of all the other bits, were really anarchic about it, re-contextualised all these things to create something completely new and ended up formulating their own voice through it. That’s honestly why I got into production.”

There’s vigour in Waterhouse’s voice as he flies through his influences, overriding the remains of last night’s debauchery.

He’s clearly passionate about reviving elements he’s enjoyed from by-gone era’s yet is quick to praise the current artistic scene of his homeland, declaring Brooklyn “dead” and MT Washington “where it’s at” nowadays, for creatives Stateside.

Even as a figurehead of his resurgent city, he’s still heavily associated with the past and chuckles when recalling events at a recent party, where a young girl described him as ‘a creepy Phil Spector weirdo, in the background of the scene’.

Is there anything in Nick Waterhouse’s life that is jarringly twenty-first century?

“I’m somewhat of a Luddite in terms of the modern world. Social media for instance, I mean twitter is like cocaine, rewarding the brain in the short-term. I like to read books and walk dogs. It’s just what I enjoy. If I was to carry out other pursuits, it would be insincere.”

Disproving the prevailing stereotype of the town he hails from, there appears nothing superficial about Nick Waterhouse. His music and words come from an authentic place, far away from the trite shallowness of The Boulevard. Yet the composer embodies west coast sensibilitiesreflectively spiritual and generally positive, he’s pretty laid back about replicating the success he’s enjoyed in America, here.

With a host of UK summer dates and festival slots in the pipeline; it’s nothing but good vibrations.

Nick Waterouse will be playing End of The Road Festival, Salisbury, 29th-31st August For all things Nick Waterhouse, visit nickwaterhouse.com

51

HALCYON

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT ROSS BARKLEY ON ENGLAND’S CHANCES WORDS. MATHEW ROBINSON IIMAGES. NIKE

52

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

53

HALCYON

54

THE KIDS ARE ALRIGHT

R

oy Hodgson looks set to turn to his young stars in Brazil this summer.

Ross Barkley is probably the pick of the bunch.

The Liverpool native has thrived under Roberto Martinez at Everton this season; a raw talent who’s been on the verge of a breakthrough to the first team since Tim Cahill described him as “the most talented footballer he had worked with” at the beginning of 2011-12 season. At twenty years old, he is now a key part of the Everton side as well as a fledging member of the England squad. We caught up with the midfielder just weeks before he headed out to Rio.

What are your feelings now the season has concluded?

“I’ve done well and enjoyed the season.

I’m not thinking about that now though, that’s in the past. I’m just thinking about doing well in the rest of the games.”

A player, who last season played reserve team football, as well as spending time on loan in the Championship with Sheffield Wednesday and Leeds United respectively, is now playing regularly for Everton in the Premier League. Has Roberto Martinez played a part in this step up?

“Yeah, he’s played a major role in that.

He’s helped me tactically, he’s helped me believe in myself on the pitch, and he’s given me the confidence to go out there and do what I know I’m capable of.

He’s been a good role model for me this season.

I’ve learnt a lot over the past twelve/ eighteen months from going out on loan, and playing reserve team football. Now I’m playing in the Premier League with Everton and for the England Senior side.

I have learnt to express myself more on the pitch, to not be afraid of taking risks and also tactically I have improved my game under the manager.”

Barkley’s youthful exuberance and powerhouse midfield displays have already had the Premier League purring, and with the World Cup fast approaching

he is dreaming of rubbing shoulders with the world’s elite this summer in Brazil; something that clearly wouldn’t faze him.

Do you ever stand on the same pitch as the likes of Van Persie and Aguero and pinch yourself?

“No, because they’ve been in my position years ago and they know what it’s like.

It’s obviously good to be on the pitch with big name players, but I see myself hopefully being like them in the future.”

“I haven’t changed. I just see it as doing well in football.

England will surely benefit from Barkley’s confidence and the scene is set this summer. This boy is ready to announce himself on the world’s biggest stage. After already representing England at every possible youth level, Barkley captained England under 16’s to the Montaigu Tournament in 2009, and clearly is very happy to be a part of Roy Hodgson’s twenty-three-man squad. How does it feel making the plane?

“It’s a sign I’m doing well for the club.

I’ve always dreamed about doing well for Everton, so I’m over the moon. It’s every kids dream.”

Barkley made an assured debut for the England senior squad against Moldova earlier this season and looking forward to the World Cup, he is clearly confident that the future is bright for the Three Lions. There is a balance of experienced heads and exciting young players within the squad. How good do you think this side could be?

“We’ve got great talent and spirit in the squad, if we play to our potential then I believe we can go far in the competition – it’s a case of showing the kind of form we have week in, week out for our club teams.”

As we chat Barkley is relaxed and

enthusiastic about his love for football.

He recognises the importance of pulling on an England Shirt and is eager about Nike’s latest effort for the World Cup.

“We’ve tried it on. It’s a nice fit, a good design and I’m looking forward to wearing it. It’s got a real classic look to it and I know it’s been made with the Brazilian conditions in mind, so it has gone down really well with the squad.”

Everton have a growing contingent in the England ranks. Phil Jagielka and Leighton Baines are favoured by England manager Roy Hodgson, both widely recognised as part of England’s strongest back four. How have you adapted to being in previous national sides? Have the Everton lads kept an eye out for you?

“Yeah, they have looked after me.

Whenever I have needed to know anything important they have always text me or called me, or I have gone down to their room. It’s helped me a lot having them in the squad.”

England Captain Steven Gerrard this season has already likened Barkley to French legend Zinedine Zidane and his club manager, Brendan Rogers, described the player as “the best British talent I have had the pleasure of watching.” Not bad accolades for a player who suffered a double leg break playing for England Under 19’s a couple of years ago. Did you ever worry you’d never play again?

“Well, the doctor in Belgium told me it could be difficult to recover fully when I broke my leg, but when I came back to England I was told it’s going to be alright and I’ve been able to get back to one hundred percent.”

Interviewing Ross Barkley, one thing is for sure; this isn’t a man lacking in confidence. How have you dealt with the rise from Liverpool lad to household name in such a short space of time?

“I haven’t changed. I just see it as doing well in football. Football is the biggest sport in the world. I knew it could happen one day.”

55

HALCYON

56

BUDAPEST

57

HALCYON

PASSPORT REQUIRED WORDS: DANIEL SANDISON IMAGES. MICHAEL KIRKHAM STYLING. MATTHEW STAPLES & SINEAD RUSSELL BACKGROUND ILLUSTRATION. ROY MCCARTHY AT KÜLA WWW.KULASTUDIO.COM MODELS. JOHN TOWNER, BOYAN CHOWDHURY, MANACHAIN, JARED, JAMES CHRISTOPHER LAUDERDALE FAULKNER SPECIAL THANKS TO STEVE, MIKE & TOM AT OI POLLOI AS FEATURED IN MUNDIAL MAGAZINE

58

PASSPORT REQUIRED

ENGLAND Gary loves beer, gear and throwing garden furniture. He wears Stone Island Zip Sweatshirt, Norse Projects Aros Shorts, Reebok Exofit Lo Clean R12 and a pair of Ray-Ban Wayfarer 59

HALCYON

GERMANY Ottmar doesn’t mind how far Germany progress, as long as he gets to see all the train stations on his list. He wears a Nanamica Gore-Tex Field Jacket, Levi’s Sta Prest Tapered Trouser and Birkenstock Arizonas with a pair of Wigwam Cypress.

60

PASSPORT REQUIRED

61

HALCYON

62

PASSPORT REQUIRED

ITALY Vincenzo refused to answer our questions. He merely thumped his chest and murmured ‘Forza Azzuri’ before blowing smoke into our faces. He wears Valstar A1 Jacket, Levi’s 501 Original Fit, Clarks Originals Oi Polloi Wallabbe Ridge and a pair of Han Kjobenhavn Timeless.

63

HALCYON

FRANCE Claude doesn’t even know any of the players’ names, but thinks that Les Bleus will triumph, as in 1998. He has travelled to Brazil with his wife and long-term girlfriend. He wears Battenwear Local Shorts, Ray-Ban Aviator and Shoes Like Pottery 01 Low. He carries a Battenwear Commuter 3 Way Bag.

64

PASSPORT REQUIRED

BRAZIL Guilherme runs a Boteco in Sao Paolo, he is against the World Cup for political reasons. He nevertheless hopes that Brazil win, and will get teary-eyed at the mere mention of Garrincha. He wears Our Legacy Trunks and Spalwart Special Low.

65

HALCYON

SOUND

66

SOUND CITY

D CITY WORDS. JONATHAN FREDERICK TURTON IMAGES. LIVERPOOL SOUND CITY

67

HALCYON

A

decade ago, Sound City might have been the name of a surprisingly good hi-fi shop in Swindon. Today it’s the signature of the largest, most attended metropolitan music festival in the UK. The Liverpool get-together has eclipsed the likes of Dot to Dot and The Great Escape to become Britain’s number one urban gala. Much of its success is owed to the infrastructure of the host city, where you can watch a band in a cathedral, grab a falafel, leisurely trot across the central district and within five minutes watch another in an underground car park. Bloody great.

In the seven years since inception it has grown from a small gathering, taking place in a handful of venues, to an internationally recognised, multifaceted showcase of music, film, art and technology. Headliners this year included Albert Hammond Jr and John Cale- who addressed the annual conference- whilst new music aficionados enjoyed the likes of Courtney Barnett and The Fat White Family, who were both fucking brilliant.

Three hundred and fifty acts played across a variety of venues, whilst plans for coming years are even loftier.

Next summer, swerve the wellies and shitehawk bus driver telling you to down your can or get off at Bridgewater Services, and get onto the premier music event taking place in the comfortable surrounds of the city.

68

SOUND CITY

69

HALCYON

70

SOUND CITY

71

HALCYON

72

SOUND CITY

73

HALCYON

COMPETITION:

BEAT-HERDER 74

BEAT-HERDER

E

veryone knows the stories about the dawn of the festival age – how a bunch of New Age Travelers turned up in a field without a potto-piss-in and The Crazy World of Arthur Brown, how anything went, how it was for music loving kindred spirits whose only intention was to have a good time.

No advertising banners, promo staff or Gary Barlow; a more innocent, joyous, genuine festival experience.

It’s impossible to turn the clock back, but in rural Lancashire- in the beautiful Ribble Valley- a festival takes place that might be considered somewhat of a throwback.

Happening July 18-20th, Beat Herder is a fiercely independent festival that knows how to party.

“Without wanting to use an obvious cliché, Beat-Herder just grew organically”, explains co founder Nick Chambers.

“We started out in the 90s organising free parties, basically because there was nowhere for us to go and have a good time with good music, and it grew from there. We found an amazing spot and met a like-minded farmer and there you have it. Nine years later and we’re still organising the best party you’ve ever been too.”

Owned by a group of friends, the Beat-Herder fraternity work throughout the year in trades – joinery, plumbing, building, plastering, landscaping, painting/decorating and an electrician – and plough festival profits back into

the event, bringing their skills to bear in the creation of ever more outlandish and incredible installations, stages and follies. Highlights include an operational Church that has three services a day, a psychedelic Victorian Pub and a Working Men’s Club that sells pies.

With Happy Mondays as headliners this year, alongside Halcyon favourites Jagwar Ma and Greg Wilson, BeatHerder promises to be a sound bet this summer. We’ve got five pairs of tickets to give away- for a chance of winning follow the link below and retweet: Halcyon Beat-Herder Comp www.beatherder.co.uk 75

HALCYON

76

BEAT-HERDER

77

HALCYON

UNLIKELY STYLE ICON

PATSY PARISI WORDS. STE TURTON ILLUSTRATION. ROY MCCARTHY AT KÜLA EYEWEAR. MOSCOT.COM

T

here’s some serious clobber knocking about David Chase’s fictional New Jersey. From Ralph Cifaretto’s exquisite neckerchiefs to Tony’s short-sleeve summer barbequing collection, HBO’s flagship show is filled with iconic garments. Yet it’s the wardrobe and accessories of the Soprano Crew’s bespectacled soldier, Pasquale ‘Patsy’ Parisi, which really catches the eye.

Although officially the accountant of the organisation, Parisi’s links to the fashion industry run almost as deep as his ties to the Sicilian under-world. If a new rail of Italian suits arrive at the back door of Satriale’s, or one of the guys are looking for a fetching fur coat for a Goomah, it’s almost always procured by Patsy.

With a versatile personal apparel, Pasquale is as comfortable number crunching at the Bing in a colourful silk shirt and classic chinos as he is draped in a velour tracksuit, whilst on extortion duty for The North Ward Emergency Merchants Protective Cooperation.

78

Whether climbing poles in the name of Christopher Columbus or taking a protest-piss at the shallow end of the Soprano family pool, the slightly elder Parisi twin has a knack for dressing appropriately.

He’s an admirer of materials, demonstrated loud and clear during that intense test-drive with car saleswoman Glorio Trillo. On a mission of intimidation - sporting a majestic, tan suede bomber - he finds time to compliment the ‘fine leather seats’ inside the latest Mercedes; the very seats they’ll be ‘scraping her nipples off’, should she continue to harass the head of the family.

A serious man, with serious style, the element of Patsy’s look that undoubtedly sets him apart from his associates are his frames.

With that in mind, we got together with luxury New York eyewear company Moscot and picked out a pair that the Bloomfield resident would happily cross the George Washington Bridge for.

UNLIKELY STYLE ICON: PATSY PARISI

79

HALCYON

UNLIKELY STYLE ICON

MOSCOT ORIGINALS

M

OSCOT is a New York City institution renowned worldwide for its iconic eyewear – The MOSCOT Originals, MOSCOT Spirit, and MOSCOT Sun Collections. The family business infuses its unmistakably refined, downtown aesthetic with nearly 100 years of expertise and unparalleled craftsmanship to create its timeless eyewear. While now recognised as a global fashion brand beloved by fans worldwide, MOSCOT remains, at heart, a neighbourhood optical shop.

A perfect match for our Unlikely Style Icon, whose run ins with franchised business’ have him fearing that it’s ‘over, for the little man’…

80

The MOSCOT Originals Collection, based on styles from the MOSCOT archives from 1930-1970, celebrates the classic good looks and timeless design born in decades past. The eyewear retains the authenticity of the original frame styles including real glass lenses in the sunglasses, traditional hardware, and lens colours that precisely duplicate the true old school colours first fabricated by the Company in the 1940s. The faithfully reproduced Collection is available as ophthalmic eyewear or sunglasses, with or without a prescription, in a variety of frame and lens colour combinations and sizes. If you’re after a frame that drips with Pat Parisi elegance, look no further than the DOV, in gold.

Face type: Pear, Oval, Heart, Square, Round Boldness scale: 2 Sunglasses: Yes Frame material: Metal Features: Made from metal with metal eyewire, stainless steel temples, detailed filigree, and Silicon nose pads.

For more styles and further reading on the MOSCOT story, head over to their website www.MOSCOT.com