Rubble n Shit #3 (part one)

It's early 2001. I've just turned 18. While everyone else is gearing up to finish sixth form and making plans for uni, I'm locked away in my bedroom frantically cutting n pasting about the bands I love, the gigs I've been to and the music I'm hooked on. I work full-time in a factory packing toys for minimum wage - £3.50 for 18 - 21 year-olds at that time - which gives me enough money to stalk the bands I love and put a zine together.

It's strange re-reading this as a (mostly) sensible 30-something. I miss the days when I could just drop everything to head off to a gig in Bath, Manchester, London or wherever else I fancied. I still do go to gigs in other cities from time to time, but these have to be strategically planned due to work commitments and limited finances.

Also, I can't believe how many gigs I've forgotten about. I've been to so many over the years that I have no recollection of some of them. Last year I was convinced I'd never seen Jimmy Eat World live, so I was pretty chuffed when I saw they'd been added to the Download festival line-up at Donington Park. Halfway through their first song it dawned on me that I'd seen them before, supporting Weezer at the Shepherd's Bush Empire in 2001. Later, when I was going through my ticket stubs, I discovered I'd seen them again at Rock City, Nottingham, around 2002. Idiot.

While I can remember going to the Dog Toffee, Feeder and Manic Street Preachers gigs that feature in this issue, I couldn't actually remember anything about them. It's been good fun looking back at what I'd forgotten, I just wish I had a zine review of all the gigs I've been to over the years.

Until I read this gig review of the Manics at the Apollo the only memory I had of that trip was the appalling b&b we stayed in across the road from the venue. It was freezing, we had a broken window in our room and there was a shared bathroom. On the plus side, it was full of Manics fans, who left a trail of multi-coloured feathers on the stairs and along the corridors as their feather boas malted everywhere. I think my feather boa of choice was black for that gig.

Rubble n Shit #2

I've been toying with the idea of blogging my old fanzines for a while, but was a little concerned about having to confront my teenage self and how much I would cringe over stuff I wrote almost 15 years ago. I never kept a diary as a kid, but in many ways opening the pages of these old zines is like opening a teenage diary, with thoughts, hopes and dreams all laid bare. They're the only document of what my best friend and I were getting up to as 17-year-olds and the bands we were obsessed with at the time.  

It was largely through reading Amanda's zine Paranoy over at Cite Something - go have a read, it's awesome - that gave me the courage to finally say 'ahh fuck it, let's all have a giggle at the teenage me'. So, here in most of its glory - I've only censored a couple of bits - is issue two of Rubble n Shit, written and compiled around 2000.

Apologies for the terrible spelling and grammar. Jeez, you wouldn't think I'd go on to study journalism...

Dog Toffee drummer Mem (second left) went on to drum for Ghost of a Thousand.

Bobby H's answer to what he'd do if he ruled the world made me howl with laughter.

This was during our King Adora stalking days, 

which went on for about two years.

Ahh, the Midgey Fest...

I was actually a teenage genius.

'Rocks like a bastard'

Obviously our favourite phrase in 2000

'why you need that special limited edition 

clear vinyl when you already have it on CD anyway...'

Some things never change.

This is my bedroom wall. 

Sometimes I can't believe the things my parents let me get away with.

Adventures in Manchester

Sometimes I'm quite good at blogging and sometimes I'm really not. My adventure in Manchester was way back in November, but a combination of Christmas, a hectic social calendar and oldness meant I never got round to writing it up. But I did some cool stuff, so I still think it's worth sharing.

My love affair with Manchester began in the summer of '99. My best friend and I found ourselves bored one Saturday and set about persuading her parents to drive us all the way to Manchester for some free all day music festival. In an unlikely turn of events, they said yes and it was largely down to this impromptu day out that we a) started a fanzine and b) regularly headed to Manchester for gigs - two hobbies that consumed most of our teenage years.

It was 2009 when I last visited the city, so when I was unable to get London standing tickets for the Pixies it was something of a silver lining when I bagged them for the Manc show. I was glad to see that not much has changed, but a little dismayed to discover that the MEN Arena has become the Phones 4 U Arena. That's got to be the shittest venue name ever.


Pixies at O2 Apollo

The Pixies were so bloody good they made it onto my top five gigs of 2013 list. I wrote about it in My Year in Music post, so I won't bang on about it too much again. It was a very special show though and even before the band came on you could tell it would be, the atmosphere was just electric. I thought it was awesome there was such a broad age range too, teenagers right up to 60-somethings from what I saw, all dancing and jumping around together.

It's expensive going to gigs in other cities, but the fact they played 39 songs in two hours meant I really got my money's worth. And they made me feel like a teenager again, which is a feeling you really can't buy.

Oh and a little music fact for you, Morrissey and Johnny Marr of The Smiths first met in the foyer of the Manchester Apollo.

The Pixies doing their thing

After seeing Kerbdog at The Garage in late 2012,

Danny Lad and I started a new post-gig game we
like to call the selfie gig review.

The aim of the game is to sum up the gig in one photo.
Luckily it doesn't show up how sweaty we are.

Salford Zine Library

I got into reading music zines during my early teens and went on to start my own when I was about 16, so they hold a very special place in my heart and I have a huge amount of respect for anyone who makes one. I love reading about other people's adventures in music, why they love a band, what they're listening to, the gigs they've been to. I even modelled the style of both of my blogs on my old zine, well as best I could with my limited capabilities. Apart from the purple bits of course. You can't do that with a photocopier.

I'd always wanted to visit the Salford Zine Library, so I'd set aside a good few hours for browsing. The library itself is a quiet little room tucked away at the back of the Nexus Art Cafe and since it's free to visit there really is no excuse for not popping in and having a read.

So many zines, so little time!

I was amazed by the volume and variety of zines lining the shelves and for a few minutes I just stared at them wondering where to start, but once I started reading I just couldn't put them down.

Yes, that is a zine titled 'Sheep Breeders and Fanciers' you spy there.

There were two zines that really stood out for me. The first was Drink in the Sunshine, which was a special issue subtitled '8 Gigs I Never Went To' and goes onto to explain how the writer got into the bands and the reasons why he couldn't make it to the gigs. There were some really great stories in there and judging by the bands and years mentioned - plus the Symposium inspired name - I'm guessing he's a similar age to me. It also got me thinking about the gigs I missed out on for various reasons: At The Drive-In, Feeder, King Adora. The second one I couldn't put down was Sticky Sounds, which features mixtapes, urbexing and the writer's experiences of mental health issues.

Making notes, well more of a zine shopping list really.

After about three hours in the library I could no longer feel my feet - it was very cold in that little room - so it was time to call it a day and head home. I was sad to leave, as there were so many zines I didn't get a chance to look through and I could easily have filled a couple of tote bags with the ones I liked.

I left the library feeling inspired and wanting to race home to get the scissors and Pritt Stick out. I want to get back into writing a zine, but I think I have too much going on at the mo to give it the love and attention it deserves. These things are a real labour of love; you have to come up with the content, write it, print the stories out, cut them up, stick them down, get it printed, fold it, post it. I can't help wondering how many hours of my teens I spent painstakingly cutting up strips of paper and sticking them onto the page. In some ways blogging feels too easy sometimes, you just write it and press 'publish'. So why has it taken me nearly three months to get this post written?!

Anyway, once I got home I looked up Sticky Sounds and discovered that the writer was planning to put together a one-off Manics zine and was looking for contributions. I thought it was a great idea and filled in a questionnaire for her on Manics fandom and what the band means to me. The zine should be out soon and I can't wait to read other fans' thoughts on the band and how they've been influenced by them.


Record shops

With it being so close to Christmas and having just bought tickets for another London gig (Rocket From the Crypt at the KOKO, expensive trip but worth every penny) I was mainly window shopping, but there's still fun to be had from flicking through the racks.

Vinyl Exchange is definitely a must-visit, with its two floors of second-hand records, CDs and DVDs you never know what you might find. They've got a good range of stuff and their selection of punk 7 inches is definitely worth a nose through, but I was busy getting all doe-eyed over a 'Death to the Pixies' 10" box set. Sadly I had to leave it behind - it was £50 - but it's now on my ever-growing list of wants.

It was then on to Piccadilly Records, which is great for new stuff. They stock a lot of records, although I didn't find a designated punk/hardcore section, and CDs, plus some books and zines too, and their staff are really friendly.

I only had one album on my shopping list: 'Punk 45: Kill the Hippies! Kill Yourself! The American Nation Destroys its Young. Underground Punk in the United States of America. Vol 1. 1973 - 1980'. It's not an album title that rolls off the tongue easily, but I knew from the name that it was something very special indeed. It's a 21 track compilation which aims to celebrate largely unknown American punk bands who were overshadowed by their New York counterparts. The Randoms capture that sense of injustice perfectly on the track 'Let's Get Rid of New York', while The Normals sound like New Orleans' answer to The Ramones. If you like your punk and want some new (old) bands to get excited about, this album is definitely one to pick up.

The next album in the series also sounds like a gem: 'Punk 45: There is No Such Thing as Society. Get a Job, Get a Car, Get a Bed, Get Drunk! Underground Punk and Post-Punk in the UK 1977 - 81. Vol 2'. It's already got my vote for Best Album Title of 2014.

Clampdown Records and Vinyl Revival are worthy of a nose if you're on a second-hand vinyl hunt and a poke around Afflecks Palace is highly recommended if you have a few hours to spare. An emporium for misfits, Afflecks is the place to go for band t-shirts, vintage clothing, jewellery, records, retro games, retro toys and cool baking stuff.

Descendents Cupcakes

Makes 18 (muffin size paper cases)

Ingredients
8oz caster sugar
8oz margarine
6oz self-raising flour
2oz cocoa powder
4 eggs
Splash of milk
200g white chocolate
100g dark chocolate

Apologies for mixing metric and imperial measurements here, it's my mum's old school cake recipe.

Optional extras
A big cup of coffee
'Everything Sucks' on repeat

Method

Pre-heat oven on Gas Mark 6/190C

Mix caster sugar and margarine together.

Sieve the flour and cocoa powder into the mix and add all of the eggs. It's easier to mix if you add a bit of each a time.

Once everything's added get a big dollop of mixture on your spoon and let it drop into the bowl. If it drops off in three seconds it's perfect. If it's too thick add a splash of milk, if it's too sloppy add a bit of flour.

Spoon mixture into paper cases.

Bake for 15 - 20 mins.

Once the cakes have cooled, melt your white chocolate and spoon onto your cupcakes.

When that's dried it's time to get creative! Melt your dark chocolate, add it to your piping bag and get drawing...

Once the chocolate's dried it's time for a taste test, ideally while you chug-a-lug-o your coffee mug. Now who wouldn't want one of these? Get yours and some Descendents coffee beans here.

Descendents bake-along playlist

The record I treasure most: 'A Hard Day's Night' by The Beatles

It started with The Beatles. There was other music, with three older siblings there must have been, but I remember only The Beatles. And those '60s compilation tapes my dad would play in the car. But it's The Beatles I remember as the soundtrack to my childhood and one album in particular.

While some daughters dream of inheriting their mum's jewellery, handbags or shoe collection, my mum's 'A Hard Day's Night' record is the only thing I've ever pined for, I even used to joke that I wanted her to leave me it in her will. I'm not like most daughters though and I can safely say my mum has never been like other mothers.

As a young woman my mum loved football and music. She had a season ticket for Leicester City and would buy the latest records. She lived in a small village and would bike the three and a half miles into town. As a mother she's always been a self-sufficient superwoman: making, baking and mending. She wasn't interested in clothes or make-up and she didn't need to be, there was always so much more to my mum.

So when mum gave me this record last year, I almost burst with pride. Proud that she would entrust me with the care of this precious family relic. Because this is not just a record. It's not any old record.

It's not that it's The Beatles. It's not that it's an original: "It's mono" mum would say, "we didn't even have stereo in those days." It's not even that this record has survived 50 years intact. The reason this record is so important to me is because it's one of the few artefacts my mum has from her youth.

My mum was 15 when she got this record for Christmas in 1964. She had bought herself a battery powered record player earlier that year, with money from her first job, because they had no electricity on the farm where she grew up. I love the fact that when I play this record I'm hearing exactly what my mum heard in 1964 when she first played it, crackles and all.

My mum's copy of 'A Hard Day's Night' spent much of its life propped up by the record player in the dining room at my parents' house - until they got rid of the record player, that is. From time to time I would carefully slide it out of its battered and yellowing sleeve and delicately place it on the turntable, terrified of adding to the criss-cross of scratches it had gained during its long life (despite its many war wounds it still always plays perfectly). I loved seeing my mum light up when she heard those old familiar songs and I can't help but smile remembering how she would sing along, not necessarily in tune.

A few months after gifting this record to me, mum had a nervous breakdown. We've been here before and we know there's a way back, but the road to recovery is a long one and it often feels like she is in a faraway place I just can't reach. Her illness robs her of who she really is and sometimes it feels like we are strangers.

So now I cling to this record, desperate to remember my old mum and determined not to let the illness define her. I listen to it when I want to smile and remember happier times, but occasionally reality cuts through and fresh tear stains add to the map of creases, dust and dirt that this dog-eared old sleeve has gathered over the last 50 years.

I played mum this record just the other day and she smiled and sang along like old times. For 30 precious minutes it was like the last six months had never happened and it was a relief to know that mum's still there, behind the fog of illness and medication, she's still there somewhere. It's amazing the power music has to transport us to another time and place. Now on the bad days, when I miss her the most, I'll play her this record. Just so I can have my mum back for half an hour.

I once read that John Peel kept an emergency box of his favourite records handy, so he would be able to save them in the event of a fire. I can relate to that. I think I would be crushed if I lost this record and am trying to work out the best place to keep it for easy access in case of emergency. Because I cherish all of the memories and emotions wrapped up in this vinyl and cardboard - I can't imagine anyone ever saying the same about an MP3.