Nature – the most wonderful thing that we are part of. It is as if we are busy trying to commit suicide.
Quotes About The Environment
Once again Hull was blasted with the psychedelic power of the top band in town – Loudhailer Electric Company!
So much more than your average Psychedelic Band – true song-writers! Syd Barrett move over! There’s dragons on the loose!
With their new EP out – the wonderful Morpheus! they hit the stage with electric full power!!
LECO Rock!! Jeff’s guitar histrionics are becoming legendary!! What with Lou’s songwriting they are hitting a purple patch. A joy to watch!
What a band!!
Well Jackson D performed at O’Riley’s last night. It’s the third time I’ve seen him and he’s great!
Hard to describe his style – quite original – bit of 50s ballads but quirky. A singer songwriter with style, songs about death and a coolness! Thrown in the banter and humour and you get a great act.
Ably supported by Sarah on bass and Zak on percussion!
Aaah – the future beckons. We will all be consumer units in the concrete and glass enclave, our every need catered for, our every thought directed – something for every whim and every whim induced.
We shall be happy and satisfied as we sip our medicine and go where directed to sample what is provided for our delectation.
Our world will be fully sanitised and safe. All will be provided. We won’t even have to think.
New Eden
While sandcastle civilisations wait for the rushing tide
Welcome to New Eden where we’ll keep you satisfied
We can shape your imperfect body and soothe your troubled mind
Sanitise your lifestyle and make your stress unwind
You are the chosen one
Welcome to New Eden
The fun has begun
You’re a chosen stakeholder in our glittering merchandise
Buy your way to freedom where ‘don’t think’ will suffice
Never ask the questions except to scheme for more
Satisfy your hungers in New Eden’s superstore
You are the chosen one
Welcome to New Eden
Never count the costs when your credit is on tap
Earn and spend forever with a knick-knack in every gap
If you want to see a tree we’ve plenty in the museum
The entrance fee is very small and you don’t queue long to see them
You are the chosen one
Welcome to New Eden
The fun has begun
Last season’s fashion? Just throw it in the bin
Make space for the new styles screaming to get in
Nothings built to last in this throwaway society
Don’t glance sideways through the windscreen while you’re so hale and hearty
You are the chosen one
Welcome to New Eden
The fun has begun
I hope that you like concrete, tarmac and glass
We can get you anywhere, comfortable, safe and fast
Get it down you, bring it up, you know it does you good
You never have to question who directs the neighbourhood
You are the chosen one
Welcome to New Eden
The fun has begun
The fun has just begun!!!!
Opher 19.2.01
The Nazca lines on the plains of Peru are a mystery. Climate change threatened the lives of the people. Their response was to produce elaborate markings in the deserts to placate the gods.
Like all superstition it didn’t work. The plains are a desert. There were no gods to placate. Perhaps they should have constructed reservoirs?
Nazca Nine were a psychedelic poetry band. It started up when Astral Andy met up with Rich Duffy to put his great poems to music.
This was written after one night peering through the dense smoke from the smoke machines at the four figures mistily looming on stage as the hypnotic music weaved around the words. The band sometimes expanded to five and then broke up. While it was going it produced some scintillating sounds.
Great stuff.
Nazca Nine
Silhouetted in the fog
By the spinning rays
Poetry and magic
Within a stone-age masquerade
A lone candle lights
The way to the trees
Driven by the ebb and flow
Of a million crashing seas
Nazca nine is four
But sometimes it is five
Beating out the rhythms
Of the swirling cosmic jive
Opher 31.12.98
Sometimes we seem to be going at life with our heads down, trying to keep up and never getting anywhere. We lose sight of the most important things and get caught up in the trivia.
The little things clog up our minds and take up all our time and energy. We can only glimpse the things that are important to us. Love, friendship, creativity and our passions go out the window – there’s no time left.
The modern life is so destructive. The pace of life and pressure becomes insane. We need to take time-out and reconnect with nature. But the life we lead often prevents us doing that.
TREADMILL
We are living in this treadmill
That keeps ever going faster
Spinning our silk cocoons
Spiralling towards disaster
It’s hard to see through the webs we weave
To glimpse what it is we’re doing
It’s so hard to see where the energy goes
As we spin this web of ruin
So what is this whirlwind we’re harnessing?
The trap we make of life?
Dieting on light slipping through the walls
As the spinning produces strife
Surrounded with the baubles
Attached to the threads around us
Blind to the horizon
Where love can never find us
Our home can be a prison
And the planet much too small
The mental tendrils we weave
Produce a steely wall
OPHER 29.1.97
The sixties was an age of liberation. There was talk of a revolution. The students and workers took to the streets in Paris and set up barricades. Never had there been such a generation gap; such a difference in philosophy between the young who wanted peace, love, equality and a global perspective and the older generation with its paranoia and belligerence.
The Vietnam war had brought it all to a head. The cold war raged and the assured mutual destruction of the nuclear arsenals meant we all lived a few minutes away from annihilation.
We thought there was a better way – global brotherhood.
The trouble is that it is always the psychopathic and sociopathic people who rise to the top. They seem so plausible. They are so coherent; so strong. Once in power they are just the same as the old lot.
The Who summed it up in one of the most powerful songs of its day.
Won’t Get Fooled Again
We’ll be fighting in the streets with our children at our feet
And the morals that they worship will be gone
And the men who spurred us on sit in judgment of all wrong
They decide and the shotgun sings the song
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
The change, it had to come, we knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that’s all
And the world looks just the same and history ain’t changed
‘Cause the banners, they are flown in the last war
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again, no no
I’ll move myself and my family aside
If we happen to be left half alive
I’ll get all my papers and smile at the sky
Though I know that the hypnotized never lie
Do ya?
There’s nothing in the streets, looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left is now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight
I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play, just like yesterday
Then I’ll get on my knees and pray
We don’t get fooled again
Don’t get fooled again, no no
Yeah
Meet the new boss
Same as the old boss
The best live performance ever!!!!
The blues started off in the Deep South of America, in the rural regions of Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas and Alabama. The first recorded mention was by W.C. Handy, a bandleader who was waiting for a train in Tutwiler Mississippi. He recalled seeing a man playing a guitar using a knife on the frets and singing.
I visited that station and sat on the bench. It was hot, humid and sultry. I could imagine.
The blues developed out of African rhythms on European instruments. In those early days there were no drums. Drums were banned. It was widely believed that the African Slaves could talk and organise through their drumming.
The deep South and particularly the fertile Mississippi delta , was the place for big plantations growing cotton, soy bean and corn. They used black slaves brought over from Africa.
The blues probably developed as a music form around 1900. It went on to become the basis of Jazz and Rock ‘n’ Roll and is still developing today.
People think of the blues as being sad. The romantic view is that it expresses the melancholy of the oppressed black slaves. That is far from the full picture. The blues covers a wide spectrum of styles and uses. It was used in the fields to entertain and create rhythm for manual work. A lot of the blues shouts come out of this. It was used as dance music at the jukes and was lively and bright. It was used as entertainment in the brothels and bawdy houses where boogie-woogie piano developed. It was used for busking on street corners or performances in inns. It was also used to express emotion and feeling. It was even used to express sexuality, full of earthy expressions and double entendres. Rarely was there any overt political or social comment, at least not in the recorded versions. Given the oppressive circumstances, lynchings and activities of white supremacist groups such as the Klu Klux Klan this was hardly surprising.
A number of the early exponents were disabled in some way. If you were blind, legless or handicapped you had no way of earning a living. Music gave you an opportunity.
The early exponents were people like Texas Alexander, Blind Lemon Jefferson, Charlie Patton, Kokomo Arnold, Peg Leg Howell, Tommy Johnson and Bo Carter.
Bo Carter specialised in the use of double entendre. White society was very puritanical and a lot of his stuff would have been quite shocking. Charlie Patton was an early Hendrix. He’d play the guitar behind his back, through his legs and back to front. Tommy Johnson had a trick of doing handstands on the guitar while playing. The object of the showmanship was to attract a big audience. They’d vie with each other on street corners.
By the 1930s the style had reached its peak. The great Son House (A leading exponent of the national steel guitar using bottle-neck), who I saw perform in 1968, taught Robert Johnson how to play. Robert, who was poisoned in 1937 at the age of 23, had perfected a style that was intricate, melodic and poetic. His songs went on to form the backbone of everything that followed.
I visited all three of Robert’s graves and paid homage.
I had the privilege of talking to Dave ‘Honeyboy’ Edwards who was with Robert on the night he got poisoned. He told me which of the three was the real one. It is the one at the back of the church.
It makes you wonder what might have been – if Robert had gone on to live and produce music of such quality the world would have been all the richer. It wasn’t to be and all we have left is thirty seven tracks recorded in hotel rooms on portable equipment over three sessions. They are scintillating.
Look what came out of them!