Your Heart Out 17 - Foundland

Page 1

... your heart out

...foundland


SAINT JACK

“CONRAD CREATED THE SEXIEST FEMALE CHARACTERS OF ANYONE OTHER THAN JAMES M. CAIN, BUT THEY WEREN’T FOR EVERYONE, USUALLY NOT EVEN FOR HIS MALE CHARACTERS WHO FELL IN LOVE WITH THEM. OBSESSION PORTENDS DESTRUCTION. IF HELL IS FOR HEROES, PARADISE IS FOR THE LONELY AND THE LOST. – BARRY GIFFORD, VICTORY BY JOSEPH CONRAD, FROM READ ‘EM AND WEEP: MY FAVOURITE NOVELS. “PEOPLE MAKE LOVE FOR SO MANY CRAZY REASONS – WHY SHOULDN’T MONEY BE ONE OF THEM?” – SAINT JACK

Davy Henderson may never have sounded more sure than he did on Saint Jack. It was another of those pivotal moments in pop history. Tearing towards the end of the century, the world could have taken Saint Jack to its heart, and things could have turned out so differently.

Saint Jack was the Nectarine No. 9 at its most swaggeringly assured best, fully focused and firing. After the post-nightmare return, the legendary A Sea With Three Stars, Davy and the gang found their sound, had gotten into their groove, and were out on top. The world had enough clues about what was happening, and the fact that Saint Jack was issued by the revivified Postcard Records, the last of the punk independents, should have been enough to ensure success. But it wasn’t to be. The world shrugged its shoulders, ignored the new blueprint, and carried on partying. Alan Horne and Postcard disappeared into the night with a parting punky sneer, and the thrice-denied Davy with the NN9 headed off into the wilderness from where they would conduct a covert guerrilla campaign of magnificent pop subversion. Saint Jack, woefully abandoned, would nevertheless have its revenge when the world began to realise what it’d been missing.

CURDLED FRAGMENTS

“HURTLING AWAY FROM THE CENTRE BECAUSE: THE WORST WERE FILLED WITH A PASSIONATE INTENSITY IN THE YEARS THAT FOLLOWED ROCK ‘N’ ROLL ... PLEASE STAY TOO HARD FOR THE GENERAL PUBLIC. OH NO KIND SIR WE SHALL SNAP OUR HEADS OFF. GET YOUR FINGER OFF MY RING.” - SLEEVENOTES TO GUITAR THIEVES, POSTCARD RECORDS. “FOR THOSE OF US THAT ARE VIC’S CHILDREN, POSTCARD’S PROGENY, FOR US POOR MISGUIDED SOULS DAVY HENDERSON WAS, IS NOW, AND ALWAYS SHALL BE A SACRED FIGURE, SYMBOLIC OF A DESTRUCTIVE URGE THAT WOULD HAVE HAD LEONARDO LEAVE THE MONA LISA WITH A STYE ON HER EYE. THUS THE RETURN OF DAVY HENDERSON WITH THE NECTARINE NO. 9 AS PART OF POSTCARD’S RESURGENCE WAS ENOUGH TO GET THE JUICES FLOWING. IF WE NEEDED THE NN9 AT ALL WE NEEDED THE NN9 TO BE A LITTLE BIT NASTY AND SLY BUT WITH A PURE POP HEART THAT COULD IF NECESSARY BRING SONG FESTIVALS TO A STANDSTILL DOUBTLESS WITH A NUMBER THAT WOULD MOCK THE AUTHORITIES IF ANYONE BOTHERED TO LISTEN TO THE WORDS.” FOLKLORE, YHO 10 “WE STILL BELIEVED AT THIS POINT THAT ALL POP MUSIC WOULD COME TO SOUND AS CRABBY AND ODD AND INSTINCTIVE AND TRASHED AND CUDDLY AND WIRED AND IRRESPONSIBLE AND NEW AS THE FIRE ENGINES. WE WERE WRONG ... TO A SELECT FEW OF US HE IS A MEGA-FAMOUS POP STAR.” - GARRY MULHOLLAND: THIS IS UNCOOL: THE 500 GREATEST SINGLES SINCE PUNK AND DISCO.


FADING MEMORY BABE

“EARLY MORNING IN THE UNIVERSE ...” “HIS PROLIFIC MEMORY FUNCTIONED SPORADICALLY ...” GERALD NICOSIA, FROM: MEMORY BABE, A CRITICAL BIOGRAPHY OF JACK KEROUAC “PULL MY DAISY: I'D WRITTEN A LITTLE POEM, LATER PUBLISHED IN NEUROTICA MAGAZINE: “PULL MY DAISY, TIP MY CUP, CUT MY THOUGHTS FOR COCONUTS.” KEROUAC THOUGHT THAT WAS FUNNY, TOOK THE MANUSCRIPT HOME, AND CAME BACK A WEEK LATER WITH THIS DITTY IN HIS NOTEBOOK: “PULL MY DAISY, TIP MY CUP, ALL MY DOORS ARE OPEN.” HE'D ADDED A NURSERY RHYME TAIL TO THE FIRST TWO LINES, SO THAT SET THE FORM. WE PLAYED WITH ALL SORTS OF ARCHAIC IMAGERY, INCLUDING PUNS LIKE "HOP MY HEART ON." ONE NIGHT VISITING NEAL CASSADY IN HIS PARKING LOT AT 34TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY, I SALUTED HIM, SAYING, "STOP THE HOAX!" JACK SAID, "WHAT'S THE HEX, WHERE'S THE WAKE?" SO NEAL REPLIED, "HOW'S THE HICKS?" THE POEM SERVED AS THE TITLE FOR ROBERT FRANK'S 1959 MOVIE, IN WHICH IT WAS TUNED BY DAVID AMRAM, SUNG BY ANITA ELLIS.” - NOTES ON SELECTED POETRY VOCALIZED BY ALLEN GINSBERG

“TOMMY AND FRAN WERE NOW WRITING TOGETHER AT WHAT WAS TO BECOME FRAN'S MODUS OPERANDI...A FURIOUS PACE. IN 1956 TOMMY WENT TO CHICAGO TO RECORD AN ALBUM OF THEIR SONGS 'A WOLF AT YOUR DOOR' AND SOON AFTER A

MUSICAL BEGAN TO EMERGE. THE NERVOUS SET BEGAN LIFE AT THE NOW FLOURISHING CRYSTAL PALACE CABARET THEATRE. FRAN LANDESMAN WROTE THE LYRICS, TOMMY WOLF WROTE THE MUSIC AND JAY LANDESMAN WROTE THE BOOK BASED ON HIS EXPERIENCES AS PUBLISHER OF NEUROTICA MAGAZINE. A WICKED SATIRE ON THE BEAT GENERATION, THE SHOW INCLUDED AN EMBARRASSMENT OF RICHES IN THE SONG DEPARTMENT: "SPRING CAN REALLY HANG YOU UP THE MOST", "THE BALLAD OF THE SAD YOUNG MEN", "NIGHT PEOPLE", "HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR LOVE" AND MANY MORE. THE SHOW'S SUCCESS WITH ST LOUIS AUDIENCES SOON ATTRACTED THE ATTENTION OF NEW YORK PRODUCERS AND THE 'THE NERVOUS SET' OPENED ON BROADWAY IN 1959.” – FROM: A BIOGRAPHY OF FRAN LANDESMAN “IS BASEBALL HOLY?” – JACK KEROUAC, PULL MY DAISY

CAN’T SCRATCH OUT

“I STEAL ALL MY WORDS YOU KNOW. I STEAL BETTER THAN MOST.” “NOW AT TWILIGHT IN THE QUARTIERE PRATI/WATCHING RICH WOMEN WALK BIG DOGS/PAST PALM TREES UNDER PLUMCOLORED SKY/SUDDENLY THERE’S CORSO TEN YEARS AGO OR MORE/AT A BASEBALL GAME IN SAN FRANCISCO/SHOUTING AT A PLAYER/PULL UP YOUR PANTS! IT’S A DISGRACE TO THE UNIFORM!” – BARRY GIFFORD, FROM SMALL ELEGY FOR CORSO “LIKE FOUR LITTLE URCHINS FROM DOWN BY THE ELBE OR THE DNEPR WITH ENOUGH TECHNIQUE FOR THE BLANK GENERATION OR TRASH STOPPING SHORT OF ABBA’S ARRIVAL. SOME OF THE NOISES WE MADE’D MAKE OTHER PUNKS SOUND LIKE EMERSON LAKE AND ... BUT WE’D CREATE THESE GREAT THINGS ACCIDENTALLY – BREAK STRINGS AND EUREKA REVILED! AND IT WAS DRIVIN’ ME MAD TRYING TO BE SANE LIKE DES ESSEINTES ...” – VIC GODARD, GO AGAINST THE GRAIN


“DID YOU EVER READ HUYSMANS, THE FRENCH NINETEENTH CENTURY GUY?” “AGAINST THE GRAIN AND LA BAS, DOWN THERE. HE WAS ONE OF THE FIRST ‘SURREALIST’ WRITERS OF INTEREST TO ME. I RECALL A GREAT SCENE IN ONE OF HIS BOOKS WHERE HE’S MAKING IT WITH THIS LADY VENTRILOQUIST WHO’S REQUIRED TO PROJECT HER VOICE OUTSIDE THE DOOR OF THE ROOM, PRETENDING TO BE HER ANGRY HUSBAND ...” – TERRY SOUTHERN

THIS ARSEHOLE’S BEEN BURNED TOO MANY TIMES BEFORE

“NO, NO HIPPIES WORE FLOWERS. I HAD THE ALLIE KANS JACKET, A £300 JACKET. THAT WAS WHEN I BROUGHT CAPTAIN BEEFHEART TO GREAT BRITAIN ...” -- PETE MEADEN

The Nectarine No 9’s Saint Jack contains some of the sweetest melodies you’ll ever hear, but it’s not been celebrated enough for that. Too often the Nectarine No 9 are considered to be plain awkward. Perhaps. The beauty of music like Captain Beefheart’s, or Sun Ra’s, or Albert Ayler’s, is the moment when irresistible melodies emerge from what some seem to consider chaos. Sweet tunes which linger in the memory. These artists are not given enough appreciation for these moments. Few people working in music can come up moments as beautiful.

Captain Beefheart’s works for all the words written about them are rarely celebrated enough for the infectious hooks they contain. The abstract surrealism is celebrated, the meanings searched for, but the tunes are so often ones you can whistle. Ze Records, for example, understood when they had Coati Mundi cover Tropical Hot Dog Night. Even the idea of that is perfect.

Coming up with the perfect pop hook is an art form in itself. The great pop writers are not always acknowledged for what they have achieved. The credits for two of the ubiquitously catchy compositions of recent times, Groovejet by Spiller and Kylie’s Can’t Get You Out Of My Head have included contributions from Rob Davis, once of ‘70s glam rockers Mud. The glam rock era gave unlikely opportunities to a whole host of characters who might have thought their moment passed. It was the revenge of the outcast, and the era gave us some of the most spectacularly preposterous pop stars yet. The tunes live on. IT’S NOT MY BABY PUTTING ME DOWN

“DON’T TRY TO BE SMART WITH ME, SON” SMART, V.I. & N. 1. (OF PERSON OR PART OF HIM, OR OF WOUND LIT. OR FIG. OR THE MISSILE OR INSULT ETC. THAT HAS INFLICTED IT) FEEL OR GIVE ACUTE PAIN, RANKLE. 2. N. BODILY OR MENTAL SHARP PAIN, STINGING SENSATION. 3. – MONEY, PAID OR EXACTED AS PENALTY OR COMPENSATION. SMART, A. 1. SEVERE, SHARP, VIGOROUS, LIVELY, BRISK. 2. CLEVER, INGENIOUS, SHOWING QUICK WIT OR INGENUITY, KEEN IN BARGAINING, QUICK TO TAKE ADVANTAGE. 3. BRIGHT & FRESH IN APPEARANCE, SPRUCE, IN PERFECT ORDER OR REPAIR, IN GAY OR FASHIONABLE CLOTHES, WELL GROOMED, SHOWING BRIGHT COLOURS OR NEW PAINT. 4. CONSPICUOUS IN SOCIETY, LEADING THE FASHION, STYLISH. “TOO CLEVER FOR YOUR OWN GOOD IS SOMETHING THAT I NEVER UNDERSTOOD”


MY TRAPPED LIGHTNING

“THE COMPASS IS A FAKE, YOU’VE LOST YOUR WAY. YOU KICK THE DUST, FIVE, FIVE TIMES A DAY. YOUR HOLY GHOST’S LOST IN THE POST. PLEASE PA, DON’T TURN MY P.A. OFF. DON’T TURN IT OFF. DON’T TURN IT OFF ...”

god-given talents. They would play to the gallery and the barflies and the feckless. They’d go out of the way to dodge the temptress success. They were nevertheless smart alecks who made the potentially treacherous seem like a stroll in the park.

Davy Henderson has something of a reputation for taking words seemingly at random and throwing them together with other perhaps strangely selected words to create something that fits perfectly. Draw up a list of his song titles from the past 30 years and you have a work of art in itself.

And yet the Jack-The-Lad joyous juxtapositions can mask the occasional glimpses into the soul we are given. The doubts displayed. The despair aired. The hurt shared. The exasperation put into words. The blood spilt. The revulsion exposed. The confusion confessed. JUST ANOTHER FUCKED-UP LITTLE DRUGGY ON THE SCENE

What’s happened to poetry? What’s happened to people scribbling furiously in notebooks? When did it stop being acceptable to jump up on tables in cafes and bars and recite the latest lines? When did being a published poet cease to be something to aspire to? When did being a struggling poet stop being a religious calling? When did poetry cease to be a mark of civilisation?

There is a fine tradition of music mixing with the spoken word. And the Nectarine No 9 and Jock Scot are now a part of that. They made a start here. They’d get together again on My Personal Culloden. They’d make a bit of a racket and try their best to disguise their

COULDN’T PHONE POTATOES

“WE LOVED THE SLITS, BUZZCOCKS, SUBWAY SECT, THE FALL, RICHARD HELL AND THE VOIDOIDS, CONTORTIONS, JAMES WHITE AND THE BLACKS, THE VELVET UNDERGROUND, TELEVISION, THE POP GROUP, PUBLIC IMAGE, JOHNNY THUNDERS … WE LOVED SNATCH … GIRL SINGERS AND PRIMITIVE DRUMS TURNED US ON – AND BOYS WHO WANTED TO BE GIRL SINGERS WITH PRIMITIVE DRUMS … TO ME MARK E SMITH IS A SOUL SINGER …”. – STATE OF PLAY “YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE MARTHA & THE VANDELLAS ...” “THE NECTARINE NO 9 IS A GROUP”

One of the most absurd aspects of popular culture in the late 20th century was the use of the term ‘dance music’ for something specific. There were magazines devoted to ‘dance music’. People asked each other: “Do you like dance music?”


Groups said: “We’re influenced by dance music”. If you can’t dance to the Nectarine No. 9 you can’t dance.

The Nectarine No. 9 made dance music. It was dance music for people that liked to dance to Captain Beefheart, Thirteenth Floor Elevators, Bo Diddley, Bohannon, Gary Glitter, Betty Everett, The Sonics, The Upsetters, Mars, Mickey and Sylvia, Johnny Burnette, Chris Montez, Parliament and The Pioneers. And other things that start with s ... The Nectarine No. 9 did not get written about in ‘dance music’ publications. The big dancefloor filler on Saint Jack was Couldn’t Phone Potatoes. It’s the only song co-credited to Simon Smeeton. It’s got a real groove going on. A re-edit would make it go on for 15 minutes. It still wouldn’t be long enough. Simon Smeeton’s stayed with Davy for a long time. Pretty stable and consistent thing the Nectarine No. 9 all things considered.

radios, cassette players, TVs. The Cabs’ driving force, Richard H. Kirk, would go on to become the hardest working man in ‘dance music’, performing under more than 30 separate identities. In 1987 Norman Cook would have a hand in remixing Eric B And Rakim’s I Know You Got Soul, adding offensively obvious samples with so much to choose from. The remix became a massive hit. Cabaret Voltaire never had a hit record. FIRECRACKERS “I SLEPT WITH THE SUBWAY SECT. THE SUBWAY SECT SLEPT WITH ME. IN THE BACK OF A FENDER JAGUAR. UNDER A DECAYING TREE,” “THE WHOLE GROUP, NOT JUST GODARD. THE WHOLE FEEL OF THEM, THEIR HAIRCUTS AND THAT, T-SHIRTS, SLOPPY JOES ...” “MY SLOPPY JOE IS DAMP ...” “I LOVE ROBERT RYMAN SLOPPY JOES – AN’ THE DARKDARKHEAVYGOTHICFUNKYGROOVEOF REVOLUTION ...”

DEAD HORSE ARUM

Cabaret Voltaire once made fantastic futuristic pop records for Rough Trade that featured snatches of seemingly abstract dialogue stolen from goodness knows where. It conjured up images of the Cabs’ pad completely chock-a-block with piles of reelto-reel tapes, C60 and C90 cassettes, BASF, Memorex. TDK. 8-Tracks, Betamax and VHS video tapes. Not to mention the piles of old

It’s all very well being a bit of a cult or a living legend. But sometimes it gets to the stage where the myth obscures the gift. With the well- intentioned rewrites and enthusiastic retellings of key facts and spicy stories comes a risk. And the danger is in forgetting what makes a talent so special.

Vic Godard, for example, no matter how much people love the idea of the enigma, has an exceptional way with words and melodies. No matter how he chooses to use his talents he will come up with something special.


Similarly for the past 30 years Davy Henderson, who has quite a reputation for being a maverick, in his various guises (Fire Engines, Heartbeat, Win, The Nectarine No. 9, Sexual Objects) has consistently created music that is unique and exhilarating, but he is not really celebrated often enough as a national treasure. It is always tempting to refer back to the Fire Engines, simply because they changed the pop world, but almost by stealth the Nectarine No. 9 amassed a body of work that is antagonistic, bittersweet and charming (that’s just the ABC of it).

Every Nectarine No. 9 record sounds like the Nectarine No. 9. Everyone who has heard the Nectarine No. 9 has an idea on what the Nectarine No. 9 sound like. Some stick to the script. Some show a bit more wit. There’s never been a sense the Nectarine No. 9 need not have bothered. The latest Davy Henderson record is always the best. The next Vic Godard one is always going to be his best.

DO FIGARO. I WANNA DO AVE MARIA. THE LORD’S PRAYER. I WANNA DO REAL SINGING. I’M SICK OF BEING A MONSTER.” – SCREAMIN’ JAY HAWKINS, IN UNSUNG HEROES OF ROCK ‘N’ ROLL BY NICK TOSCHES.

UN-LOADED FOR YOU

“THESE SMALL INDEPENDENT LABELS – MONGREL LABELS, THEY WERE CALLED WITHIN THE INDUSTRY – WERE THE BREEDING GROUNDS OF ROCK ‘N’ ROLL. NONE OF THEM HAD ANY REAL ETHNIC OR AESTHETIC IDENTITY. THEY ALL RELEASED WHAT THEY THOUGHT MIGHT SELL.” – NICK TOSCHES, UNSUNG HEROES OF ROCK ‘N’ ROLL. “WELL, THAT’S THAT. NO MORE OLDIES OR UNRELEASED STUFF. FIN! NOW I AM FREE. FREE TO GO FORWARD, A BRIGHT NEW FUTURE IN AN OFF-WORLD COLONY, A CHANCE TO BEGIN AGAIN. I WILL DANCE, I WILL LAUGH, EVERYDAY WILL BE THE FIRST DAY OF SPRING” – POSTCARD RECORDS CATALOGH “I LIE IN MY ROOM STARING UP AT THE CEILING. SPRING CAN REALLY HANG YOU UP THE MOST ...” – FRAN LANDESMAN

“I MEAN, I’VE GOT A VOICE. WHY CAN’T PEOPLE JUST TAKE ME AS A REGULAR SINGER WITHOUT MAKIN’ A BOGEYMAN OUT OF ME? MY MUSICAL BACKGROUND IS PEOPLE LIKE ROY MILTON, WYNONIE HARRIS, ROY BROWN, CLEANHEAD VINSON, JAY MCSHANN, LOUIS JORDAN, VARETTA DILLARD, BIG MAYBELLE, ROY HAMILTON, PEOPLE LIKE THAT. I COME ALONG, GET A LITTLE WEIRD, AND ALL OF A SUDDEN I’M A MONSTER OR SOMETHING. PEOPLE WON’T LISTEN TO ME AS A SINGER. I’M SOME KIND OF A MONSTER. I DON’T WANNA BE A BLACK VINCENT PRICE. I’M SICK OF IT, I HATE IT. I WANNA DO GODDAMN OPERA! I WANNA SING! I WANNA

There must be a phrase to describe it. Cultural shorthand, or something. It’s where or how a particular tag gets added to something, and is repeated endlessly. It’s like if someone mentions Postcard Records of Scotland. You sort of know what is going to be said. And yet, there is a very strong case to be made for the second coming of Postcard being the one you really need to know about. The rising from the ashes is rarely mentioned, but Postcard Records’ finest moments just might be the Nectarine No. 9’s Saint Jack, Vic Godard’s End Of The Surrey People, and Paul Quinn’s Will I Ever Be Inside Of You? None of these artists released records on the original Postcard imprint, but they certainly shaped it one way or another.


The finest Postcard moment just might be The Only Fun In Town. There’s nothing like it.

A good example of cultural shorthand is the often repeated story about how Joy Division were asked to record Nolan Porter’s Keep On Keepin’ On. What you very rarely see added is that many really, really do wish Joy Division had recorded the song. It’s never quite made clear who had the fantastic idea in the first place. These things matter. Why do people keep on keeping on? What is it about the impulse to carry on? Why do creators of art continue to feel the need to express themselves and share their works? What drives people on? Why do entertainers pile into the back of a transit van 30 years on to play another show? Why do people spend their scanty savings on issuing a record that is never going to be a chart success? Or a book hardly anyone’s going to read?

Alan Horne and Postcard liked to irritate. The independent record sector is dominated by labels eager to please, keen to play the game. Alan Horne resolutely stayed contrary and spiteful, to the end. He even had the courage to disappear properly. Postcard’s not yet been bettered.

How do the gifted keep bouncing back? How come they are so blessed they can still find a way to say/play something different in a different way? How come they have the vision to rearrange the elements in a novel fashion time and time again? How come they retain such disdain for playing the game? “THE IRRITANT FACTOR”

CLIPPED WINGS AND FLOWER STINGS

“YOU GOT FAILURE WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR SHIRT/ YOU’VE NEVER HAD IT SO BAD/ YOU’VE NEVER HAD IT ...” “HE NEVER HAD THE CHANCE TO HAVE A MAJOR CHART SUCCESS. BUT HE’S A LIVING LEGEND. WELL, IT SAYS SO ON HIS CHEST. NOW HE’S ON HIS UPPERS AND THERE AIN’T MUCH LEFT TO SELL. BUT STILL HE TAKES A DIFFERENT ROUTE EVERY TIME WHEN HE GOES DOWN TO THE WELL.” – VIC GODARD, THE WRITERS SLUMPED.

TAPE YOUR HEAD ON

“I READ THE MIND OF JESUS. I GOT IT SECOND-HAND. DOWN THE SAINT JOHN’S ROAD. AT SOME CHARITY STAND ...”


“THE PHOTO COLLAGE IS A WAY TO TRAVEL THAT MUST BE USED WITH SKILL AND PRECISION IF WE ARE TO ARRIVE [...] THE COLLAGE AS A FLEXIBLE HIEROGLYPH LANGUAGE OF JUXTAPOSTION: A COLLAGE MAKES A STATEMENT." - WSB (1962)

FOUND THINGS, FOUND OBJECTS, FOUND ART, FOUND SOUND, FOUND A REASON, FOUND MY GROOVE, FOUND THE RIGHT WORDS.

If the sleeves, the songs, the references to Joseph Beuys, Robert Ryman, Francis Bacon and William Burroughs, show the Nectarine No. 9 knew their art and anti-art, collage and assemblage, abstractions and calculations, then that’s nothing to the way Davy’s gang made ‘materials’ work for them in the absurd arena of consumerism.

Out of choice, out of necessity, out of view, a culture has evolved where shoppers are dependent on other people’s cast-offs. In charity shops, at boot sales, on the web, down the market, in the junk shop, what others reject becomes another’s objects of desire, as long as the price is right. And where ever increasingly the high street stores are the same wherever you go, looking the same, selling the same all over, the sheer randomness of recycled rubbish retailing is ever frustrating and fascinating. But you never know what might turn up.

THE MISSING LINK BETWEEN FROWNLAND AND POUNDLAND. OR SOMETHING ...

“I’VE LOST ALL MY MONEY ON THESE FILMS. THEY ARE NOT COMMERCIAL. BUT I’M GLAD TO LOSE IT THIS WAY. TO HAVE FOR A SOUVENIR OF MY LIFE PICTURES LIKE UMBERTO D AND THE BICYCLE THIEF.” – VITTORIA DE SICA, IN TALKING TO MYSELF BY STUDS TERKEL “THAT CLAN HAS GOTTEN AWAY WITH 100 YEARS ... OF SHEER BRILLIANCE ... UP TILL NOW”. – PROLE ART THREAT, THE FALL


Foundland: A celebration of Saint Jack by The Nectarine No. 9 Originally released in 1995 by Postcard of Scotland. After many years out of circulation, in 2010, it is now available on We Can Still Picnic, the digital imprint of the Creeping Bent Organisation. The Nectarine No. 9 are David Henderson, Simon Smeeton, Iain Holford, John Thompson, John ‘Todd’ Thompson & questing poet Jock Scot. A Sea With Three Stars by The Nectarine No. 9 is also available through We Can Still Picnic …

Find out more about the activities that are part of Your Heart Out at: www.yrheartout.blogspot.com

Contact: yr.heartout@gmail.com


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