BILLY CHILDISH TO BURN PENGUINS

Last weekend I watched Julie Christie in Fahrenheit 451, the 1966 film of Ray Bradbury’s novel where books are banned and burned by the authorities.

It’s not a stance you’d expect from a book publisher but that’s the one being taken by Penguin over Billy Childish’s Selected Poems. The ungrateful suits have been none too amused by Billy’s contribution to L-13’s Infiltrations series. Copies of his book were produced in the style of an old Penguin paperback, given DH Lawrence’s ISBN number, and were to be snuck onto bookshop shelves. How did Penguin react to this generous act of homage and free advertising? By ordering their destruction, that’s how.

This Thursday you can witness Billy giving a send-off reading before the burning ceremony at the L-13 Gallery in Clerkenwell (click on flyer above). A limited, hand bound, Tangerine Press edition of Uncorrected Poems will rise from the flames.

L-13 Light Industrial Workshop and Private Ladies and Gentlemen's Club for Art, Leisure and the Disruptive Betterment of Culture

Tangerine Press

WILLIAM BURROUGHS'S STUFF

Oh, I thought you said William Burroughs had no soul.

Burroughs famously lived at 222 Bowery on New York City’s Lower East Side from roughly 1974 to 1981 in what he called “The Bunker”, a windowless, partially converted YMCA gym. When I went to have a look in 2004 I was quite surprised it was still a gym (or looked like one) and although much of New York is probably unrecognizable from when Bill shuffled his feet along the sidewalks, that little part, with CPGBs across the street and a general air of unpleasantness, was strangely familiar and comforting. What I didn’t realise was that beneath my feet, Burroughs’s lair stood largely untouched and preserved by his friend, the poet, John Giorno.

Photographer Peter Ross has now taken some shots of items that remain and caught his interest (like Bill’s shoes above) and is interviewed in today’s edition of The Morning News (click here) by Nicole Pasulka, along with a link to see more pictures.

JR. WALKER & THE ALL STARS live at the RAM JAM CLUB, BRIXTON, 1967

Feast your lucky peepers on this.

BEATLES TO BOWIE: THE 60s EXPOSED at the NATIONAL PORTRAIT GALLERY

With only two weeks left of the Beatles To Bowie: The 60s Exposed at the National Portrait Gallery, if you’re thinking of going, you’d better get your ice-skates on. But is it any good? Is it worth it? Yes and no. Or rather, sort of and maybe not.

What’s on offer are photographic portraits (and they are all portraits) of British hit makers, shown a year at a time, from scrubbed pop starlets of 1960 through to dishevelled rock stars of 1969. This gives an opportunity to check the swift changes in fashion and photography through the decade. Not that you and I, dear MonkeyPicker, need this, and the exhibition is clearly not aimed at those who’d prefer to see the Action outside the Buttery or the Smoke on The Beat Club. So, by and large, it is the portraits you’d expect in a major gallery, accompanied by a bargain bucket of cheapo memorabilia tacked to each year. If you’re going to pick one “iconic” (hate that word) shot of the Who, which would it be? Probably the Observer Union Jack jacket shot by Colin Jones. Marianne Faithfull? Draped over the seats in the Salisbury pub by Gered Mankowitz. Jagger? Fur hood by David Bailey. They’re all here. Which begs the question what is being “exposed” that’s not already frequently on the surface? Not much, but I’m happy enough to gaze at Dusty, Sandie, Julie, and admire the shoes of Steampacket, the Manfreds, Animals, Yardbirds (above by Mankowitz) etc; like I’d be happy enough to hear “Tin Soldier” on the pub jukebox. If I wanted something deeper I wouldn’t go the NPG or the pub.

Whether you consider it “worth it” depends on the value you put on eleven pounds. To pay eleven quid to see stuff for the umpteenth time is steep. For the less initiated it is reasonable(ish) value for the size of it (for them there London prices like). I was heartened by a girl of around seven correctly identifying The Kinks being played in the background, and a young mum and daughter getting excited by the sheet music to “Pictures of Lily”. Sod the National History Museum; this is the way to bring up kids.

What did get my goat was being asked to donate to the purchase of two Robert Whitaker photographs of the Beatles used in the exhibition. Hang on, you just lightened my pocket by over a tenner. Don’t the National Portrait Gallery have enough Beatles crap already? What about Mr Whitaker donating his precious fucking pictures to a public gallery, the tight shit?

Beatles To Bowie: The 60s Exposed is at the National Portrait Gallery until 24 January 2010, admission £11. Should you want the book, it’ll set you back another £30.

IN HONOUR OF WILLIE MITCHELL: BREAKING UP SOMEBODY'S HOME by ANN PEEBLES

Willie Mitchell died on Tuesday. He was 81 and many thought he already dead, so let’s shed no tears. He’s most fondly remembered for those stomping Northern Soul instrumentals like “The Champion” and “That Driving Beat”, and for his production work at Hi Records for the likes of Al Green. Personally, I’m a big fan of the records he made with Ann Peebles: lean, mean, tight production with that snappy Memphis funk. Here’s a good example from 1972, “Breaking Up Somebody’s Home”.

GIMME SHELTER (1970)

Gimme Shelter follows the 1969 Rolling Stones tour from New York to California and the shocking events that would lead to Altamont and the killing of at least two giant rattlesnakes to make Keith Richard’s boots. Those boots wiggle to a studio playback of “Wild Horses”, scuff against a stool as Mick and Keef perform “Prodigal Son”, and out of shot they look on in bemusement as a dog wanders across the makeshift stage in a dusty hellhole as drug crazed dingbrains beat the living daylights out of each other. They are the most magnificent boots in rock ‘n’ roll history, and their story is now available on a must-have DVD.

Of course, in glorious hindsight the whole Altamont fiasco is jaw dropping in its naive lunacy, but following Hyde Park and Woodstock it seemed like a good idea at the time. If that was today the poor bugger from Health and Safety would have kittens and be in desperate need of a new clipboard and pencil. It does though provide us with some important lessons. Like, if you give acid to a field of 300,000 of the great unwashed it’ll be the fat ugly hippies striping off and lumbering around rather than the beautiful flower children; although it’s some job trying to spot anyone vaguely beautiful in this rotting pile of filth.

The Hells Angels copped a load of grief for their antics, not least for the killing of Meredith Hunter but he was flashing a gun around just feet from the boots, so he had to go. And the Angels were mighty pissed off by then. They’d turned up to a free concert with their pool cues, made their way to the front, only to discover no pool tables had been laid on for them. I mean, with no eight-ball to hit, what’s a guy supposed to do?

The DVD has a clutch of extras to entice an upgrade from your worn video tape: twenty minutes of outtakes including “Prodigal Son” (mentioned above) and performances of “Little Queenie” and “Carol”, Mick hanging out backstage with Ike and Tina Turner (would you have the balls to take Ike’s guitar and play it in front of him?); an audio commentary from three of the film makers focusing on the practicalities and technicalities of making the film; and frustratingly brief excerpts from a radio broadcast the day after Altamont with eye witnesses phoning in with their experiences (“bad acid and bad vibrations from the start”).

I’m off to Dolcis.

NEW YEAR'S EVE PLAYLIST

Here’s what I played last night/this morning at the New Untouchables do at the 229 Club, once I’d removed Milton from my record box. New Year’s Eve isn’t the time to be too clever or take too many risks, was just a case of whacking on crowd favourites to keep the floor packed. And besides, it was so bloody dark in there I was struggling to see what was in the box anyway. Hope those that went enjoyed it.

2215-2240
King Curtis – Do The Monkey (Capitol)
King Coleman – Black Bottom Blues (Philips)
Pop Corn and The Mohawks – Shimmy Gully (Motown)
The Drifters – If You Don’t Come Back (Atlantic)
Harold Atkins – Big Ben (Vinyl Carver)
Watts 103rd Street Rhythm Band – Brown Sugar (Warner Bros)
The Gospel Pearls – Two Little Fishes (Liberty)
The Impressions – Can’t Satisfy (ABC) (for Curtis Turnham’s 1st birthday)
Sugar and Sweet – You Don’t Have To Cry (Pep)
Pearl Woods – Don’t Tell It All (Crackerjack)

0210-0250
Leo Price and Band – Hey Now Baby (Up Down)
Grover Pruitt – Little Girl (Salem)
Sugar “Boy” Williams – Little Girl (Herald)
Freddy King – Now I’ve Got A Woman (Federal)
Eddie Bo – Dinky Doo (Ric)
Connie Christmas – Big Chief (Checker)
Big Daddy Rogers – I’m A Big Man (Midas)
BB King – Heartbreaker (Bluesway)
The Righteous Brothers – Little Latin Lupe Lu (Moonglow)
Marv Johnson – Come On And Stop (United Artists)
Kim Weston – Helpless (Gordy)
Barbara Randolph – I Got A Feeling (Soul)
The Isley Brothers – This Old Heart Of Mine (Tamla Motown)
Charles Sheffield – It’s Your Voodoo Working (Excello)
BB King – Think It Over (HMV)
Banny Price – You Love Me Pretty Baby (Jewel)