‘The Wandering Jew and You’ David Berman Interview. June 16th, 2011.

image001  I once had this dream in which I was the Broomfield/Theroux figure in a Documentary of the aforementioned title, accompanying David Berman as he walked into intimidating wilderness, a terrain which while barren, still – as he made pains to point out to me,“…has the odd barn casting a shadow the color of dried-up blood”.

A squashed can of compressed veal. A soggy copy of Playboy, singed around the centerfold’s midriff.

Why would anyone want to set fire to the image of a naked cowgirl?” I asked rhetorically.

Chasing him through parking lots,

Into parallels,

The Joup Friday Album: ‘Day of the Dead OST’ John Harrison/Modern Man 1985

81xCIYnQsNL._SY355_Despite a rich tradition of horror writers and film, until recently we never really did Hallowe’en in this country. In the 80s and 90s you’d be hard pressed to find a Horror film showing on TV for the night itself (though for some reason we have long upheld a tradition of Ghost Stories at Christmas) and Trick Or Treaters were highly unlikely to darken your door, so we certainly never got carried away to the extent that there was a season-long British equivalent to your Knott’s Berry bollocks, in fact practically everything we know about the festivities of Hallowe’en in this country are informed by your films and TV shows. But we had distinct enough of a handle on the overarching concept to be nonplussed when we watched E.T., or a Spider-Man cartoon where people were flouncing round on the big night dressed as belly dancers and cowboys in search of sweeties.

The Joup Friday Album: Sonic Youth ‘Washing Machine’

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The Joup Friday Album: Outkast – The Love Below

Outkast - The Love Below

Outkast – The Love Below

I honestly don’t even know how to start to talk about this album…or half an album, since I haven’t been able to bring myself to give Big Boi’s disc a fair shake; because I know that whatever it’s like, it can’t possibly occupy the same blinged-out Madonna Inn of amour that André Benjamin dreamed into being here. Having said that, I recently discovered that one of Big Boi’s favourite artists is Kate Bush, so I should really get round to that.

The Joup Friday Album: Broken Social Scene – ‘You Forgot it in People’

Broken Social Scene's You Forgot it in People

Broken Social Scene’s You Forgot it in People

Nature is reclaiming my elderly neighbour’s house. Really rubbing his nose in it. Recently I’ve been walking around all my former haunts, and this album has been accompanying me. Of course, there’s nothing like the olfactory and auditory to fast-track you to your memory banks, but this is nostalgia illegitimately invoked since this is an album as new to me as the year. Ordinarily I try to unearth an album to share with you that I’ve lived with for a long time, but strangely, this is an album that takes me to the era it was made without me having heard it before.

The Joup Friday Album: ‘Dirty Fan Male’ Trunk Records

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I’ll never forgot about DRE.

He was a young and eager GP, visibly perplexed by my ‘presentation’ but stubbornly reluctant to tessellate my gastroenterological symptoms toward the neighbourhood of research I’d done on the internet to save him time. I’d been suffering from a white hot smoulder below my navel that would occur two hours after eating and knock me onto my back for extended stretches, leaving me feeling pinned to the spot like a display case insect.

“I think we’d better do a DRE…” he said.

The Joup Friday Album: Pavement ‘Terror Twilight’

terrortwilight I gather y’all had a total eclipse of the sun this the past week? We rarely have anything as interesting or extreme in this perpetual gloaming we Brits call a climate. Last time we did was August 1999, and the next isn’t due until September 2090, which I can confidently RSVP in the negatory. I at least experienced the last we had. I was losing my shit job-virginity in a Cash & Carry. Customer footfall into the warehouse disappeared the closer it drew, and we stepped into an Omega Man-outside, pedestrian and vehicular traffic along the busy corridor into the city eerily absent. The celestial sequence began and Co-workers drew out little rectangles of amber perspex to view it through and the weekday world began to take on an incongruous gloom on this hot and clear August morning. I looked at the random assortment of specimens I was contractually obliged to spend 37.5 hours of my waking week-with all craning their heads sunward and decided for some reason I might be better off looking behind me…

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