Alan Freeman - distinctive sounding and iconic DJ has died after a long battle with arthritis. He was 79. His voice and jingles not only defined my childhood but my adolescenthood too. Without fail I would always tune into his show. The best bit was his countdown - he made it sound so exciting. He was a proper DJ.
Freeman commonly known as 'Fluff' because of his penchant for woolly jumpers was apparently John Peel's favourite DJ. I can see why John Peel liked Freeman. For a start - they were quite similar in character - obssessive about music and underneath it all quite shy. Neither of them realised how popular and liked they were and both would have been surprised by the vast amount of tributes in their death.
We are currently living the high life (I am being dictated to as I have been kidnapped by a very tall man who made me eat scallops in a very posh restaurant in poshland London town),
Folk in a eastern European stylee againsnt the faux zebra skin banquettes
Very hard to write as rather inebriated very enticing
Humming in my ear drums as I stagger drunkenly past the badly plastered wall contemplating my rather broken reflection
Frreee love down to dance says the neon sign yet I know should try
Well, no of course not
He is wittering and I am making it all up as I am going along
He wants to get cab but we must persuade him that he is the chosen one and must obey all orders and end up undernetath every single whore at SUNSET STRIP
Pumping ridiculous beat and lots of chattering prossies
Open until three Not quite giro playboy but we’ll have it
Send it out as it is without spell checker man to check all our silly spelling silliness
Wah wah wah
Here’s my tall friend Simon – this is a joint blog venture between me and Café Del Nightmare
Take it away Simon….
Here I am at the corner of two distinct streets in soho doing everything I shouldn’t. Which is quite reassuring. I am enjoying every moment. Amongst the shouldn’ts and the wouldn’ts and the couldn’ts there is a strange familiarity in the overbearing naiivety (oh bollocks cant spell naivaty) of them all. It all seems like some far away dream yet so familiar so welcoming so much like home yet so far away. Like having holidayed in the Maldives. Something so mystical and beautiful yet remote and needing. Hmmm no scrub that maybe Ibiza. No never been there but I guess it’s the same. Hmmm yes lovin it lovin it large im lovin it like thisssss its all so close yet far away. Hmmmm. I think I may be drunk for the first time in four and a half months. Its like breast feeding when youre an adolescent.
Uuughhhhh it’s romo - yuck uugh what has he written?
And it will be the will-dos and the would-dos and the could-dos. It’s all so familiar in the cyclical nature of all things soho - bless them and caress them it’ll all make nonsense in the morning but will be so sparkly and splendid in the twilight times after midnight while we all slowly one by one turn into the pumpkins of our dreams. Heres to you and heres to me, friends forever we shall be. If at times we disagree; fuck you and here’s to me……
Romo: We are too drunk to carry on = I don’t know what to say anymore – he has said it – blah blah blah
It’s quite awful here in a bar that closes at 3am. Especially when my glass has been empty for some time and ive not been offered another…..
Aha romo in slomo gets purse-o out of bago and shine-os with vodkoooo
Oh blimeoooo 20 quid for a glass of vodka tonic. I might expire and yet the experience of being fleeced somehow makes it worthwhile.
Suddenly alcohol can make you feel more awake than the days of relentless resistance creatively and conceptually. Those that have told you all is wrong yet will revel in the rewards from all that is right. Blinding is the light of white lightning. Aaaaaarrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhhhhhh please don’t ever let me sleeeeep.
Also im really fed up of this programme spellchecking my spellings. I like to spell things wromg INRTENTIONALLY becauklse its much funnier that way. Eventually will all humour be spellchecked? I leave you breezy and cheesy happy and slappy eunencumbered by anything other than the whiff of a sandwich condiment. Yours entirely unencumbered by the finger buffet of the Café del Nightmare xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Yes thank you and goodnight from the Romo that can hardly see because I am quite so inebriated it’s a pure feat of marvel that I can type in time and with good spelling like this
Romo: oh dear I’ll regret this in approx 2 hrs time
This is perfect rock behaviour at it's finest - especially for all you die-hard Keith addicts out there and for Dick Headley.
I'm still working like a drone on a massive music project - can't tell you what it is as I've signed a confidentiality agreement. Sorry! Will be able to spill the beans once I've delivered it - hopefully at the end of this week. And no, contrary to Mr Headley's evil net rumours I will be delivering a job not a baby just in case you were all getting confused. Got a podcast brewing by the way - I'm hoping to get to it this weekend which will be the first I will have not been working on for oh.........5 weeks? If you are new to this blog and thinking of getting a job in television or film - think twice - it's not glamorous and very hard work. It is worse (probably marginally) than student doctors hours.
I inadvertently inhaled crack last night in an NCP lift as well. I walked into a carpark lift and got a scare when confronted with a lurching crackhead sucking on his pipe. It all happened really quickly. I was really friendly and said : "oh, you gave me a fright" thinking he would just go on his way but no, he shouted back "yeah I gave YOU a fright what do YOU think YOU are DOING? (very aggressively whilst staring at me).
Luckily, I was with my very tall friend Simon who had offered to walk me to my car. Thank God he did as I was previously quite insistent that it wasn't neccesary. Thank you Simon.
Meanwhile, wheezing crackman is still ranging around and I sort of have an out of body experience seeing him punch me in the face any minute now. I could see him thinking about it and could also see his thoughts were scrambled. He was so aggressive and his eyes were blackly dead. It was horrible - his angry eyes were boring into me and he wouldn't let it go. Luckily, he didn't go there and finally staggered off still being menacing. Then, we got into the lift and as the doors shut were overcome with seering crack fumes - as if someone had tipped a bucket of bleach over us. Then I got palpitations probably from panic rather than inhaling! I've had flashbacks of it all day - it was really scary. London, where the streets are paved with crap! It's so depressing.
I’m blogging from a mini-cab. When I initially wrote that I wrote - I’m bluffing from a can. In reality I am I suppose quite doing that - I’m blogging from a can hurtling at 50 mph ( that s more over the speed limit t thann is commonly allowed. This is what happens when you try and write something from a cab hut;iing along the A40 at the wrong (fast) speed. I have been wondering lately aboput my weird state of spelling and general being=ness. Mainly because my 5 year old son has neeb (been) hating school with a vengenance. Needless to say – a vengeance that I truly recognise .
He hates school. Can I just reiterate that I am typing this while being driven in a vehicle in the dark - goodness it’s chiming midnight on radio 4 and I can't touch type and we have gone the most ridiculous way home. The childminder sits in waiting like a black widow. Whjat I can’t believe is that the head of the BNP has been acquitted. Goodness – this country is in one hell of a mess. It is very diffocult for me to type as I am doing it in the dark oin a minicab – I am – but – I do feel rather strongly that the leader of the BNP has a lot to answer for .
I’m really worried I have learning difficulties at 40 – today I wrote cello’s and wrote celleos instead.
It phased me.
I’ m a little bit tipsy and now I am home but even so – what a day!
New podcast coming soon - I love you all xxx I really do xx
PS: I have finshed this off whilst having a wee on the loo.
PPS: I have no boundaries
PPPS: Bag Of Yoghurt (why would you ever want a bag of yoghurt anyway?) - I'd like a drip or a handful of goat's myself - this is to prove that no matter what happens you can blog anywhere anytime, any place of mind, thought, being, stance, feeling, beingness - on the loo having a wee which is precisely what I am doing right now. Do I care.
Does Britney have a fat thigh of roundness? Yes. So? That doesn't make her a bad person.
Donald Rumsfield has resigned - well thank effing god for that! Not before bloody time - the man should never have been allowed to open his mouth in public then, now or in the future as far as I am concerned. Oh diddums........look at those matching bottom lips. Don't get me started!
And Britney - Queen of Trailer Park Chic complete with babies with horribly common names that she has put on her ample lap whilst driving a big car and nearly dropped on their little precious heads has finally filed for divorce. Not before time Britters! I think we could all see that coming.
Good effing god! Contrary to popular opinion I haven't been pretending to be ill - I did have horrid flu and then unspeakably painful twisted pelvis back trouble which meant I haven't been able to move or hardly breathe properly for most of this week but after much pummeling and acupuncture - I am back (pardon the pun pop-pickers). Anyway - enough of that drivel - after an excruciating journey home which took as much time as it takes to fly to most countries in Europe - I've got home and succumbed to a bit of channel surfing. Was rather happy to see James Brown Live at the Electric Proms on the old favourite BBC4. Having a bit of a wallow - I went to see James Brown after he got out of jail for the umpteenth time for assault and battery and waving a firearm around whilst pissed in the mid-80's and the band and indeed his corset are just as tight as they ever were. But blow me - who should he choose to do a duet with but the bloody Sugababes. Why? They are shit and genuinely look like they don't know who he is. And bless him, poor old JB does look a little pre-senile and stiff of limb when he's doing his fancy shuffle. He doesn't look like he is much long for this world but is resplendent in a vibrant blue satin and lurex trim suit. He's got a trio of fantastic backing singers which look a little like live home webcam porn mothers 50+ variety in straining silver pvc suits. They have great rhythm and knock Slugababes (yes - I meant to spell it like that) into a cocked hat. Oh and they have got two drummers which is just brilliant. Last time I went to a gig with two drummers was at the Astoria when I went to see Bentley Rhythm Aces in 1998 - which was a mighty fine racket.
I was going to witter on some more but think I might not. Back soon.
But for those (Molly and Holyhoses then!) who are interested - the wedding was ok - one of those where it is rather evident that it will either be a resounding match made in heaven or there will be a particularly unpleasant divorce within 18 months. All a bit strained and middle/upper class. The groom I overheard was in trouble just a fortnight ago when my friend (bride) came home to discover that her husband to be and trust fund coke binger had just lost ten grand - yes - TEN GRAND playing on-line poker. Added to which - in normal circumstances it would have been fine but he had just been cut-off from his inheritance by his viper of a mother for marrying someone (my lovely friend!) she didn't think was good enough. She created a big scene at the reception and turned up late but I couldn't really get to the bottom of it all - lots of hushed, rapid whispering and secret mobile phone calls before she finally arrived - VERY late and quite obviously on purpose.
Needless to say - it was a lovely wedding and great reception. Fine wine was had by all - and in fact I must have drunk quite alot as I realised I was sat next to the bride's stepfather (early 60's I think) and have a vague recollection of thinking 'gosh this table is cramped' and then realising it wasn't - it was just that we were sitting thigh to thigh - his pressing rather hard against mine. I must have been quite pissed as I clearly remember thinking that I couldn't be bothered to move my leg and quite enjoyed it. Tut! Weddings eh?! And I drove back to the B&B pissed with two ex SAS captains - a mile and a half through remote countryside on tiny roads - not good I know. And YES - we all slept in separate rooms just in case you were wondering - sorry - I'm much more boring than girl with one fat behind.
Had one of those hangovers where you wake up feeling absolutely great but then feel like poo once you've sunk the Full English....