TOSMAG 007

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Thursday 03rd May 07


Letter from the Editor.

Contents

It’s time for another bank holiday weekend and worryingly I’ve had a DIY dream. To rip up my bedroom carpet and have beautiful wooden flooring under my metal framed Ikea bed.

Don’t I Know You?!

This is in NO way a good idea, in fact it is by far the worst idea I have ever had. Can you imagine the torment I would have to go through just to get everything out of the room, let alone

Spying in Hyde Park

ripping up the carpet, hoovering, sweeping and mopping the floor, then sanding it and then varnishing it. That’s 393 cups of tea. So I have decided to get out of London, as far away from

All Smiles on the Red Route

my house as possible and even further away from Homebase! I’m off to Cheddar Gorge in Somerset to see Cheddar Man, Britain’s oldest complete skeleton! Fun!? I suggest you do something along the same lines. Although if you can resist

7 Stops

the temptation to ‘Do It Yourself’ then I suggest spending the weekend in our parks, museums and art galleries. They are bloody marvellous and much of the time free.

Today’s Special

Once inside the aforementioned places I suggest taking a leaf out of Miss Impeccable’s little book and trying a bit of celeb spotting, it can be fun and rewarding too. I’m not talking real celebrities, you know the ones we respect (Dimitar, Thom

Cultural Comment

Yorke etc) I’m talking; WAGS, I’m talking Sugarbabes, I’m talking David Cameron. Heat’ll pay you 250 smackers for a photo of Coleen chomping down a Mars ice cream! If we were

Listen Up

going to stoop to the lowest of lows we’d probably go for the following: Sienna dancing, Jordan fishing or Michael Jackson curling. Fortunately unless you are Vince Noir or Dimitar Berbatov we don’t care! Peace out Coleen!

Northern on the Northern Line

ed. Nico NB: Date for the diary.....Friday, 11th of May Fiction Plane’s last gig before their world tour will be a double header. That’s 8pm at the Kings Head in Putney and then Scrambling across London to the Bull and Gate in Kentish Town at 10pm! Book your tickets to avoid disappointment!! www.myspace.com/fictionplane

Put together by Sam Lassman Watts & Rebecca Hall Handed out by Pretty Boys


Don’t I Know You?! Last week I was in the city for a work event which took place at the Merchant Taylor’s Hall, surely one of London’s most wonderful hidden gems. Behind the unassuming façade hides a magnificent Great Hall, Harry Potter-esque cloisters, and best of all a truly magnificent courtyard which was originally a vineyard and orchard during the 14th century. For anyone losing faith in this fair city of ours The Merchant Taylor’s Hall is a must see. Needless to say as I sat on a stone bench, sun blazing, oversized glasses on and cuppa in hand I was in heaven; if only every day could be this blissfully quaint. Three hours later I was less than amused when I was volunteered to stand outside the inconspicuous venue (apparently due to my spectacular electric blue satin shoes – they know my weak spots) and draw in our bewildered guests. As I stood on the step

during city rush hour hopelessly trying to seduce one of these infamous city boys (well a girl gotta live) two impeccably dressed elder men strolled passed. It only took me a second to realise I was looking at the backs of the Britain’s hottest artists! With the Tate currently hosting their retrospective and appearances on Jonathan Ross, Gilbert and George are hot property. So, as I stood there in my spectacular shoes and elegant black tulip dress in the middle of the city, in rush hour, and oh yes, working, I decided the best thing to do would be for me to disturb art in motion (they are living sculptures after all) and make chase. So, now I am running down the street screaming “Gilbert and George, Gilbert and George” much to my own horror, let alone that of the zombielike city workers I was swiping out of my path, and the sculptures themselves!

Ever so slowly they turned to face me. Hhhhmm. So I have just chased them down the street like a total nut, dignity and sanity thrown to the wind, but now they’re standing here in front of me in the flesh and suddenly I have no idea what to say, or what I ever intended to say. So I did what any self respecting stalker would do, “Oh Gilbert and George I just love you, I love your work, I’m just so happy to have met you, this has made my day (quick mental calculation – we’re only in April) No, my year!”. This is just a small extract of my total ramblings, all said with a sense of embarrassed desperation as these two icons of modern art stood in front of me; bewilderment and dare I say irritation written across their faces. Eventually I stopped, and after more than a moment of awkward silence George thanked me and they turned and strolled off.

As I meandered back to my step smiling like a Cheshire cat I tried to make sense of what had just happened. It’s not that I haven’t seen or even met a famous person before, I’m a Londoner after all, but never before have I reacted in such a way. It was like an out of body experience. Whilst I do like their work and believe they are living icons I thought I had slightly more class than to cajole them in the street! A week on though and I’m not ashamed to say that I’m happy I did it. It may not have been my most dignified of moments (or least for that matter), but I can now say I have ‘met’ Gilbert and George, living sculptures! So, next time you see someone famous, a living icon even, I implore you to discard your inhibitions and ask them, “Don’t I know you?!”

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


S

o there I was, minding the

Then I had a Eureka moment.

have made it a requirement. We

kids, walking the Park, full

KABLAMM! Maybe they’re all at

can but live in hope of a day when

of the joys of the sprung

Spyskool, inculcating new strata of

we will unilaterally decommission

Spring and celebrating The Rising,

fear and loathing, drip-feeding doses

our weapons of mass dissipation

as you do, when a flyer flew up at

of paranoia, perchance spreading

and learn to look each other in the

me! Jumped me from the pathway.

cynicism from on high onto naïve and

eye. Until that heady day we’re

Screamed to be grasped. Arrested

unsuspecting kids.

gonna haveta live with the cctv

my eyeballs, held them to the task

Seriously though, and I know

and the phone-tap, the loyalty card

of reading its advertising filth. An

the Skool’s meant to be a laugh

and the memory banks in our lives.

open invitation for children to attend

but, is this what we want our kids

But are we gonna sacrifice our

a “Spy School” at a Museum not a

to be spending their time doing?

children’s future at the altar of this

million strides away. In the beat of

Mistrusting classmates at this early

behemoth? Conscript them into an

SPYING IN HYDE PARK a toddler’s heart I noticed an eerie

age? Running to Top Buzzard with

existence that we can’t be bothered

absence of both Squirrels

reports of covert kissing and the like?

to investigate? Deny them their own

and Buzzards.

Celebrating the punishment of others

voyages of discovery, heartbreaks

I scanned the lush grass in a

and living in fear of getting caught

and elations to live in a Civilisation

slow, deliberate pan but the Grey’s

themselves? Wearing Buzzard

that is rapidly decreasing their

camouflage was too fine, his agility

Badges on their uniforms? Ending

avenues of choice? And for what?

too highly tuned, he’d found the

up Head Squirrel at the age of 11?

Automobiles will drive themselves

shadows. I scoured the bright,

These impressionable sponges we

with their slidey doors and foldaway

open skies but the Birds of Prey

propagate soak up our hopes and

mirrors? Widescreen TeeVees that

were flying high, all eager beaks

fears, our joys and sorrows, walk into

show us every nook and cranny

and beady eyes. In desperation I

adulthood perpetuating the same and

of our globe, sate our every sense

resorted to Plan D; I lobbed spent

if we fill them with notions of paranoia

with vistas of unimaginable beauty

gum from mouth to right foot,

and deceit, the need for mistrust

or horror, but leave taste, smell and

volleyed it to a grassless patch

and a joyless, suspicious mind what

understanding withering unused? If

of earth, passing it off as a nut (it

kinda green, pinched adults are

we are choosing to slide effortlessly

sometimes works!). No bushy-tailed

they gonna turn into? Doesn’t bear

into trepidation, obesity and

treebunny arrived, no wide-spanned

thinking about.

loneliness then so be it. BUT, and

boyd glid down from invisible heights

I am not sooooooo naïve as to

here that terrible word Duty rears its

to snatch, what I assumed he’d think

think that we can live today in a

big head…

was, a sparrow’s foetus. Aha! I

world without espionage and covert

Can we really believe that it

thought, they’re getting clevererer.

actions. Our greeds and needs

will end with us? Do we have an


inalienable right to carry this on

trousseaus of ‘stuff’ that they must

very eyes, the sparrows fearlessly

beyond our own brief existence?

trundle to the grave?

chirruping away and bladers blading

Have we forgotten our duty to future

Yeah, it’s all a bit heavy in the

away gracefully. What would you

generations? The responsibility to

morning on a train to a desk, but

really rather do; write a poem;

encourage; to understand more than

let us stop a second and imagine…

sketch a flower; make a dog-calling

we’ve even contemplated; to travel

place yourself a moment in a park

whistle out of a blade of grass; smell

further, both inwardly and outwardly,

without cctv, no roving binoculars

the newness and the nowness,

than we have ever been; to see more

from the local Spy Shoppe, nor

or encode a secret memo for the

than we’ve beheld? Or perhaps the

eavesdroppers all plugged into the

Buzzards, to be picked up by The

sum-total of our Parental Duties are

Grid. It is spring and the daffs are

Squirrelmeister from a prearranged

the emburdening of infants with the

out, the few clouds transmogrifying

Dogpoo Bin? More importantly what

shadows of our own neuroses and

from whale to spaniel before your

would you rather that your kid did? And then think, even if you are being watched/listened to, what would you have them see/hear? From these little choices we make our lives. From incremental changes of direction we arrive at unimaginably magnificent destinations or blank walls of fear. If we spend our brief hours and days sneaking glances at other travellers we do but miss the road we are on. Spy Skool might be a frivolous diversion and the road you’re on a little wearisome at present, but a trip into mistrust and envy will not better equip you for the avenue that lies ahead. And not your kid either. If today, on your way to The Desk, you discover something of note, carry it with joy, for you have noted it; explain it as best you can, for then you will find it; share it with others, for then you will connect. Most of all cherish it. And if you receive but sneers and sarcasm, know this: You have added to the day and not subtracted, given and not snatched, ridden and not hidden. This is what we have found. This they do not teach you at Spy School.

BY CARDROWSKI editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


ALL SMILES ON THE RED ROUTE The trains they are a changing. “Ladies and Gentleman, the next station is closed….St Paul’s station is closed…. it certainly could do with a revamp too,” yelped the Central Line driver. Yes I had strayed slightly, gone the long way round from Seven Sisters, overground to Liverpool St and then across to Oxford Circus. Why is a story for another time, but I was enlightened into a new style of train driver, one who transformed the carriage from eyes down to eyes up and smiles. Perhaps it was the latest step by TFL to get a greater sense of unity amongst commuters. It was also the second time it had happened that week. Once, on the Northern Line, the driver explained to us how to make our journey quicker – next they’ll be giving us advice on where to go for London’s finest Curry, or the best hidden boutique off Hampstead High Street. So in lieu of these pioneering train drivers we at The Other Side have come up with five things to make the tube journey a tiny little bit better…..

1) Every station should have a slide as well as an escalator.

If you have been down a slide you will know that you always come away smiling.

2) Each platform needs a creperie!

Then the 7 minutes wait for the High Barnet Branch would be nonexistent.

3) T hemed carriages containing a petting zoo, old skool computer games, breakdancing, readers wives, wine tasting etc….. imagine that!

4) Clowns – this goes

without saying, but really funny clowns who squirt water in the face of those who pretend to take no interest!

5) Glass bottomed carriages – With a full scale

view of how London Underground is making our train lines better (oh and you’d see all the rats being electrocuted!)

T his list could go on, but for now just imagine those little changes and maybe come up with your own ideas for future London!


Do You Know!

A new game for the underground. This really makes your journeys quicker. You will need - A friend - A sense of humour The idea behind this game is very simple. It starts with a question….Do you know why [BLANK] is named that way? Fill in [BLANK] with the station you are approaching. You then have as long as it takes to go from one station to the next to give your companion a valid reason to why the station is named so. It is also imperative that you talk loud enough for the rest of the carriage to hear, watch for smirks.

Here is an example……

Do you know why Warren Street is called Warren Street? Well, in 1789 just after the French revolution 400 Parisian rabbits were smuggled into London by the Earl of Street. He swiftly transported the rabbits about a mile South of Mornington Crescent into a Large Georgian terraced house. It was here that he let the rabbits loose. However before long the rabbits had started to tunnel into the soft mollusc eaten wood and began to create passages under ground. They covered a whole square mile and built their pad in what is now the entrance to Warren Street Station. Hence the name. Our condolences are offered to the Earl of Street’s family on the anniversary of his death. ed.

ILLUSTRATION BY TOBY WHYTE

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


7 Stops

Hooten

Sondre Lerche

Norwegian singer/songwriter plays a one off London date before heading off to this summers festivals. Lerche is truly captivating and his band the faces down provide excellent backing. Support comes from Wireless bound Alberta Cross. This is due to be a brilliant evening of music £10 The Scala - www.ticketweb.co.uk you’ll need tickets! That’s why it’s in this edition - Thursday 17th May

Kitty, Daisy & Lewis

It’s off the scale. West Finchley is the nearest tube to the Arts Depot...But if you can bare to spend a Friday night in the sticks then the Arts Depot is the place. You will be blown away by a 13, 15 and 18 year old (+mum & Dad). It’s kind of Swingy, bluesy, rocky with a few bizarre covers for good measure. Friday 4th May @ The Arts Depot £14/16

East Finchley

Archway

Highgate Brent Cross

Tufnell Park

Belsize Park

Sketch

Camden Town

Euston

Mornington Crescent

Don’t tell anybody but Sketch is offering a rather special offer for the bank holiday weekend. If you book through Toptable.co.uk you can get 3 courses and a glass of champers for 30squids. Bargain. You must go. Even if it is just to see the toilets. They are great! Conduit Street

Big Chill Ho 2pm -11.30

Old Street

Kings Cross

Kentish Town

Chalk Hampstead Farm

Golders Green

We love fre it is going t Music, com and indoor Whose line the....frontd

Angel Warren Street

Moorgat Tottenham Court Road

Leice

Goodge Street

Boeing

Check out Ca tip this week he says thou the cast chan comedy thea Tickets from Comedy Thea

The best things going on in and around the Northern line both sides of the River


nanny!

ee stuff in London and this sounds like to be an absolute barrel of laughs. medy, spoken word dogtrackjukebox bowling provide the backdrop and e is it anyway Star Steve Frost provides drop?

The Green Light District

We’ve all seen the adverts so the Other Side decided to investigate. A short trip to the Grolsch website inclined me to believe that the Green Light District is in fact...wait for it...Bars that serve Grolsch in a relaxed atmosphere. No Aliens, private dancers, not even any bogies, just Grolsch. Sounds ok to me, so check out Hoxton and Shoreditch and find yourself being served a bottle of the green stuff!

ouse, Pentonville Road 0pm FREEEEEEE

Borough

Bank

te

Elephant

London Bridge

Charing Cross

ester Square

g - Boeing

ardorowski’s hot k. Listen to what ugh - get in before nges to see genius atre. £15 atre, Panton St

Waterloo

Kennington

Clapham Common

Stockwell Oval

Clapham North

Embankment

The Lives of Others

Try out the Clapham Picturehouse for this must see movie. It really makes you think exclaimed my friend. Maybe think was not a harsh enough word. It’s bloody worrying. I bet none of the critics said; If you liked Enemy of the State, you’ll love this. It really is captivating stuff from beginning to end.

If you would like to advertise something in 7 stops then please contact us at editor@theothersidemag.co.uk

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


Today’s Special

chaz royal’ s international

london burlesque festival Over the past decade the art of Burlesque has grown to near mainstream popularity across the world. The first ever London Burlesque Festival plays host to over 75 of the world’s best ecdysiasts performing a variety of acts ranging from the nostalgic traditional style of Burlesque’s early years to 50’s ‘Bump and Grind’ as well as more modern avant-garde interpretations.

May 9-12, 2007 There will be 5 showcases of sultry song, sizzling strip tease and Burlesque pageantry!


Glitterati Opening Gala: Wednesday May 9, 2007 @ Madame Jo Jo’s 8pm £10/ £15 The opening party that allows the opportunity to mingle and be snapped with the stars of today’s Burlesque Revival in an intimate setting. Hosted by Cecilia Bravo. Burlesque performances and music from The Fabulous Penetrators, DJ, Healer Selecta

UK ‘Locals Only’ Revue: Thursday May 10, 2007 @ Soho Revue Bar 8pm £12.50/ £20 A whimsical evening filled with the best of British Burlesque. Hosted by Miss Ivy Paige. There will be over 20 sassy strip teasing lasses from the UK. Erotic Poetry by Anne Pigalle and some of London’s best troupes, The Teasemaids, The Boushy Pearls & more.

‘Battle Royale’ Newcomers Contest: Friday May 11, 2007 @ Neighbourhood 9pm Doors £8.50 Advance/£10 One of Neo-Burlesque’s rising stars will have a chance to shine brightly in this Burlesque ‘Battle Royale’. A competition featuring Burlesque’s newest starlets, these neophytes will be competing for the coveted title of ‘Best Newcomer’ and £500 in cash prizes, as judged by the audience.

The International Gala: Saturday May 12, 2007 @ Bush Hall 6pm £29.50/£40

The Jetsetters Ball: Saturday May 12, 2007 @ Bush Hall 9:30pm £24.50/£40 Two shows in one night. The VIP Reception will be a fully seated soiree for advance ticket holders only. The Jetsetters Ball will feature the same show but cater to the late night crowd that will want to ‘Shake a Tail Feather’ on the dance floor after the main attraction. Both events will showcase la crème de la crème of the International Burlesque jet set, Featuring Angela Ryan, Miss Beeby, Cecilia Bravo, Kisses Cause Trouble, Fleshoticas, Angela Eve, Vavavavoom from Brighton, & from London, Roxy Velvet & The Teasemaids. Hosted by The Indra and Vincent Drambuie.

For more details and tickets for the event visit http://www.londonburlesquefest.com

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


Cultural Comment

BLOOD, TEARS, AND SALADS Stories from the local Muswell Hill Supermarket

Walking into my local Sainsbury’s is like walking into a live theatre show. The characters are the funniest you’ll ever see. If you live in Muswell Hill you know the faces, you know the routines and you certainly know that nothing is gonna get done in a hurry. Today is a prime example….. All I needed was a bag of salad….This is where I encounter problem number A. Which one do you choose? I am a seasoned chef, I’ve cooked for family, girlfriends, friends and foes for years but I was well and truly stumped today. Should I choose the Baby leaf salad, or the herb salad, the one with slices of beetroot in??? Add to that whether to get Organic, Florette or basics (generally I rule this one out immediately). Anyway salad chosen (don’t ask me which one) I march over to the checkout. One couple buying tins of beans, surely a quick two quid out and on your way…. no? No! She’s paying by card, they total it up and Brenda behind the checkout requests a NECTAR CARD! What? Are we in the unmentionable supermarket. Fortunately man from said couple pulls out a REWARD card, all purple and bent. In goes the credit card and down swipes the Reward card. Not working, try again….nope; keep going…. It’s ok say’s the couple….Oooh no Brenda replies. I laugh, I had to! Then with a mighty thwack Brenda breaks the card, blood everywhere. Said man bursts into tears. By now I am eagerly awaiting the next fiasco but to no avail. Order is soon restored and I glide through the checkout with a wink, a penny change and an ‘enjoy your salad’!

ANOTHER LITTLE cardorowski

THEATRICAL TIP

More stories soon from the fabulous world of Saino’s xxx T he e er Sid O th fo r g in k is loo o ing t f un d e W nd. expa print ly t n e curr s p er copie 500 and night fo r t t he r r u a f to email want . We t 0 u 0 b 5 0 200 ing. print f un d e m o s e d k e ne uld li u wo T he If yo r e ad p s lp e ss h o to e ac r t in er sid e g e O th as n ple o d o n Y u! Lo hank h. T c u o t ed. FOR A CHANCE TO WIN MY AUTOGRAPHED SAINO’S REWARD CARD PLEASE SEND YOUR NAME TO : EDITOR@THEOTHERSIDEMAG.CO.UK

Michelle Gomez of Green Wing and much, much more, Mark Rylance, one time boss at the Globe and RSC stalwart and Frances de la Tour, Rising Damp among sooo much else. If you don’t laugh yer arse off you ain’t got one, you can’t swing and you got no hope! It don’t mean a thing, don’t pretend to, it’s just a carefree and abandoned laugh, and we could all do with a bit of that now and again. But… be careful, this cast is about

“BOEING BOEING” at the Comedy Theatre is an evening

to change so see it quick and you will catch a delight.

of unparalleled joy. Mad, Door Slamming, French farce

Comedy Theatre, Panton (or Pants On as we call it) St,

from the swinging sixties with élan and no little wit. Chief

twixt Picc Circ and Leics Sq., short walk from the Old Ink

among those supplying the mirth are the indefinable

Line at LS (Charing X Branch).


We like this shop. We think it’s great! You can get dresses, hats, shoes, radios, pictures, mannequin heads, furniture, and more all from our parent’s and grandparent’s eras. Here’s their business card:

IF THERE IS ANY PLACE YOU THINK WE SHOULD BE PLEASE EMAIL US AT editor@theothersidemag.co.uk NEXT TIME Behind the scenes of Fiction

qwj

Plane’s final gig before they tour the world with The Police keep writing us your views,

* Junction Road, Archway *

they make our day!

Do you come here often? Tuesday already and I think that 75% of the week has been spent discussing my colleagues speed dating this evening. At time of press she is currently stood, searching for her mobile phone in her bag, drawers, even the toilet; finally turning up under her keyboard. So speed dating, huh? Some of the 75% of this chatter has been on what questions to ask and top priority is……Do you tan? What sort of question is that to ask a Londoner! Tanning! I’m convinced

she’ll come in tomorrow with no telephone numbers, partly due to question 2….Do you like fish? Is it any wonder she’s having to go speed dating? Anyway more on her conquests next time.

I also tried the little trick I told you about last week. Just chatting to somebody to see the reaction. Ok, so it wasn’t a café but Highgate station with a 12 minute wait seemed as good a place as any to start a conversation.

“Hello, do you come her often.” It got a little laugh; I thought I was being quite funny. Anyway I started talking and she seemed less than interested, in fact every time I spoke her face went further into her bag. After 2 minutes, she was off down the other end of the platform, bag on head! I thought about it for a while, if she had initiated a conversation with me then it would have encompassed 12 minutes on the platform and then at least a further 6 because nobody gets on

the tube at Highgate to go to Archway! So almost 20 minutes of conversation! 20 minutes….It’s too much I thought, people are too scared. It is from here that I propose that if you see somebody reading The Other Side this week, have a chat and share your views. Say…”I like your shoes” or what do you think of those boys that hand out the mag? And so on. Let’s get London chatting and lets get them chatting about funny stuff!

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


LISTEN UP New Music Thursday

better than i-tunes Right, well, I have never

not dismiss her as just

homosexuality comment).

Timing’ but am also fond of

done this before. Recently

part of this sudden influx

Yes, I have been following

‘Stories we Told.’

I have only written things

of Anti-Folk type singer-

the Social for quite a while

when prompted by looming

songwriters, many of

now although I always

My dear editor asked

university deadlines; even

whom are female, many of

manage to forget about

me for 500 words, but

now I am being prompted

whom feature a beautiful

their shows. They sound

all I can manage is 436.

by my dear editor.

voice/mockney accent and

like Interpol/Bloc Party

Here are some more for

Nevermind, eh?

a piano/guitar. Listen in

hybrid with Ian Curtis

your pleasure; Crumpet,

particular to ‘Canopies and

resurrected to sing. In fact

moustache, screeched,

by Friday, he says. I says,

Grapes’, ‘Absentee’ and

I like them so much Last

dreamt, dolphin,

it is already Friday, where

‘Edward is Dedward.’

FM tells me they are my

colosseum (which word is

was my warning? He is

39th most listened to band.

telling me is spelt worng).

yet to reply, but you can

mentioned this Anti-

Debut single ‘London is

Enough!

bet I wouldn’t have stuck to

Folkness I suppose

Divided’ is released on

Enjoy the music

this deadline anyway.

I should stick with it.

April 23rd, but also listen

500 words on my desk

Since I’ve already

That is all for now.

Another recent favourite is

to ‘To the Bone’ and ‘The

Reece James

NOTE FROM EDITOR:

Laura Marling who wounds

Good Fight.’ They are also

www.myspace.com/

we have scoured the city

a little like a grown up

attractive and dapperly

theothersidemag for a list

to find somebody with

version of Kate Nash. She

dressed. Probably

of all bands featured in this

enough knowledge of

is as yet unsigned, but is

irrelevant, I know.

article plus our favourite

new bands so that you

practically raped by A &

track x

can experience them for

R scouts at every one of

like Les Incompetants?

yourself. Please sit back

her shows. Standout track

Sadly now defunct, but the

and find yourself engaged

is ‘New Romantic’. See

guitarist, bassist and one

with London’s newest

her while it costs you £5

of the vocalists have gone

music discoverer……

instead of £15.

on to form Ox.Eagle.Lion.

Man. I really like them but

I am almost certain that

You may have

Finally, did you ever

concluded that I have a

I’m not completely sure

many people know about

particular fondness for

why. It might be Fred

this adorable songstress

attractive, human female

MacPherson’s distinctive

by now (having recently

musicians (camouflage

vocals, or the refreshing

played the annual Camden

for latent homosexuality?

variation between songs,

Crawl) but you must not

You bet!) but now onto

but go and judge for

give Emmy the Great a

the males (which is

yourself. I like to start

miss. I insist that you do

completely unrelated to the

my day with ‘Matter of

Emmy the Great


Northern on the Northern Line

Northern at Scrap Club (Elektrowerkz, 27th April)

It’s strange when you go to

entered with a palette

to slightly browning my

a club and have to sign a

of scrap. I felt like I was

leatherette thong when

disclaimer, absolving said

at a bull fight as people

the bangs and smashes

club of any responsibility

screamed out, claiming

and ka-pows boiled up

should your death occur. I

bits of scrap to have their

in this bizarre torture

had wondered if a club for

name on them. I spoke to

chamber. Debris was

a guy who had brought his

flung everywhere. The

own scrap. An evil VHS/

sounds of the carnage

DVD player he told me had

were complemented by

chewed up his favourite

the orgasmic crowd’s wails

tapes. He’d come from

of delight. Then, just as

Newcastle…Why?!

suddenly, it was over, and

everyone was civilised

people who like to break stuff was just a ruse by the feds to round up a mob of killers and mentalists, possibly for recruitment purposes, but no, this was supposedly a Destructivist Happening.

As a fully trained artist,

with pips and stripes etc, I know to be wary of wanky artists trying to repeat the past. Luckily, the chap in charge of the night’s proceedings didn’t seem to be bent this way. The history was there if you wanted to know about it, but he wasn’t going to ram it up your poop-shoot.

Imagine 120 people in a club, with sledgehammers, and alcohol, and a seemingly endless supply of scrap. You do the math(s) Phew! At least that’s one thing that would remain intact!

An old ‘Not-Fire’ bell

was rung, and the crowd of men and women of all ages and shapes spasmed in appreciation. Some showmanship and a brief don’t-hit-anything-with-apulse over with, and the mayhem began.

The room was fairly

small - too small really for the forklift truck that

Ten names were

selected from a hat (only

and polite again. What?!

ten killers allowed at

any one time….for ten

Club. As no one got

minutes!), and each was

too maimed – there will

awarded a sledgehammer,

be another! If you like

a brick hammer, a

something a bit different,

crowbar, or a piece of

if you hate appliances and

scaffolding and sent out

furniture – check out www.

to war. Take no prisoners!

scrapclub.co.uk

Raaa!

I was on the front row,

sadly not a soldier this time, and must admit

This was the first Scrap

Send/Invite the Northerner somewhere by emailing n o r t h e r n @ theothersidemag.co.uk

editor@theothersidemag.co.uk


TH N E E WHAT'S NICO B

INKING

? K E E T HI S W


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