No, it’s not called that, but it features both in spades. Brain searing riffs that melt your brain? Check. Powerful playing that at once lifts the speakers from the floor then takes you to a quieter place? Check. Songs, like, er, proper songs with er, words, punktuation and things? Check. It can only be the brand, spanking new album from Easter Street : Fire Together / Wire Together. This isn’t an album review. One isn’t needed. Just buy it / steal it / rip it. Preferably buy it though. It’s all local to The Scottish Borders but could easily cross the Atlantic and be at home at a record store outside Madison Square Gardens, followed naturally, by the headlining gig at the very same venue.
Speaking of which : May 4th / Duns / Launch night!
Oh and the album artwork is rather nice 🙂
Excited? Rather : A city full of cool dudes humping amps and guitars in and out of transit vans, fabulous venues and a rather unique vibe. SoundCity Liverpool two weeks time. Cannot wait! Here’s one from last year.
Yeah I know, but kinda nice. One up from a cute cat shot?
Recently protected & refurbished, this is Fatlips Tower in The Scottish Borders. We were here a few years ago when the gaff was in a state of disrepair and we saw : fireplaces 30 ft in the air, tattered remains of ornate wallpaper fluttering in the open-roofed breeze, the outlines of picture frames etched with dirt and the smoke of coal, shroud-like, upon the walls. Then, with pith helmet and machete we hacked out way through 3 metre high nettles; now we ambled up a sensible path. It’s right for things to be protected for future generations, however, even buildings must be allowed to die – the clay and lime of their structure, returning to the earth.
Death is what gives life it’s incredible & vital meaning. Imagine this place crumbling, it’s stones festooned with ivy and little white flowers. Is that any less glorious? To quote Peter Hammill and to keep up the vague thread of rock ‘n’ roll : “Take away the threat of death, and all you’re left with is a round of make-believe”
A few days ago we heard two vague rumours : 1) The temperature was going to rise in to double figures 2) The existence of a gorgeous waterfall hidden within the glades and hollows of Northumbria. Sunday dawned, wet and windy, yet with a subtle hint of heat. As the afternoon approached, the sun came out, the central heating (which has been on full blast for the last six months) was turned down and we ventured out wearing only light clothing and a light smattering of Goretex.
Here’s what we found. The light was strong, so I was unable to do any super-long exposure stuff (not having brought any ND’s with me) and the flora ‘n’ fauna were still still struggling out of winter. But. OMG. Here be hobbits, druids and the worship of all things natural. In fact I took my clothes off and danced naked in the stream with but a circlet of ivy about my waist, believing I was the living incarnation of Pan. Hence I write this blog, from the local, er, institution. No, not really. But the wind through the tree’s, the sound of water over rock and a burgeoning lushness coming from nature about to leap into life, was, after a dark, cold winter, very life affirming. Others have thought this also as just up the road are some prehistoric carvings. More about those another time.
Roughting Linn Waterfall : You are beautiful & we’ll be back.