Made by my head
Music, Ireland. Grey, name. My name. A step ladder. This house was built in a bog. Music is the window. I fell off a step ladder.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


Hello again

This blog has been left untended for a long time now. There are a few good Irish bands around, but not enough of them are better than being poked in the eye by a robot. Maybe I'll start posting on this blog again one day, but in the meantime you can have a look at my latest blog, Words are my favourite noises.

Saturday, November 04, 2006


Music. Saso.

My brain is grey. There are things in my brain. It's easy to define them as 'things' because that could be anything, but then that isn't really defining them at all. Defining is pinning them down. When I think of pinning things down I think of those things running around the noticeboard in my head, and using coloured pins to pin them to a certain point and say, "You belong at that point. Stop going over to that point and kicking that thing in the shins." But that sounds painful, especially if I'm doing it in my brain. Thinking hurts enough. There are drawers in my head, and some of the things sleep in drawers. Some of the drawers have labels. At night when they're all asleep I can read the labels and say, "That's what you are. You belong there." But they could be anywhere by day. The weather affects my head. Autumn makes me stand still and stare at things. The falling leaves provide all the movement I need. Things enter my brain when I see them. Objects in the world around me release their spirits, who possess a small space in my head, possibly moving into a drawer and displacing something else, and they think they own the place until I can stick a pin into them. Sometimes these ghosts get married in my head and have kids, and I can release the kids into the wild through words. The words 'a cow?' are the off-spring of two ideas I acquired when I was looking at an ice cream. Windows have a certain appeal and so do Martians, and knowing these things could prove useful if you're thinking about shooting a Martian. These thoughts are the children of something I saw in a box.

Band: Saso

Album: The Middle Ages

Saso are a publicity-shy band from Dublin who are loved by the critics. 'The Middle Ages' is their third album. They're better than wearing a coat. Most other bands are worse than realising that your coat isn't dead yet.


Thursday, October 12, 2006


News. Hard Working Class Heroes.

You've got a head and shoulders and knees and toes and you've got your own ants as well and they don't know what they've got. Some people want to sign their names on my arms and all I can say is 'Attack! Attack!' and that's no good until I learn how to control the bees.

Event: Hard Working Class Heroes

Hard Working Class Heroes is a showcase for unsigned and independent bands. It takes place in Dublin this weekend. On the website you can download a track from each artist. My personal favourites are Bronagh Gallagher, Pugwash, Simple Kid and The Last Post.


Lots of things are like this and that and they're like other things too, and if they weren't they'd be like snow. There has to be little boundaries that mark out things and say, "That's what you are and that's what you are and you're digging a hole in my garden, stop doing that."

Monday, September 25, 2006


Music. Duke Special.

I've seen clowns do things with worms and you just have to go home to your study and think about that.

When things are good and everything is flash photography, and Little Red Riding Hood shoots things to keep you entertained, they're not going to be good for long. Locksmiths are good, and some of them have curly hair and when you see them on hills and the breeze blows through their hair you can hear what they're thinking, and which comes first, the horse or the cart? Actually, that's just what I was thinking.

Man: Duke Special

He's a singer-songwriter from Belfast. He's better than knowing who you are, or not knowing who you are if you have a habit of stealing chairs.


Saturday, September 09, 2006


Band. Neosupervital

This is the wind, and this is all worry and woe, and this weekend is when I'll close my eyes and say or whistle and you know how to whistle. I always say that when people ask me to say something.

We sing to live in song and blank out what's wrong and fill in what's blank. We eat at dinner time with bells and buzzers and you have to buzz in to say moo and bang bang you're a cow, or you were a cow, I'm not hungry. I always sing that.

Band: Neosupervital

'One man, a synth guitar, and some sharp pop tunes.' He's from Dublin. He's better than knowing how many spiders it takes to screw in a lightbulb and having more than enough spiders. Most other bands are worse than having more than enough spiders and not knowing where they are.


New name, new style. You have to change. You have to ask yourself certain questions because if you don't you'll just be someone who digs holes, and you could be someone who digs holes and asks questions, even if they're just questions about the holes.

Saturday, August 26, 2006


Music. The Guggenheim Grotto.

Sing, little pieces of angels. They'll sing as soon as they assemble all of their pieces. In the meantime I'm going to look at the kitchen sink, pressing buttons on a tape recorder, play and record, I'm solving a detective, or the plans, and everything is a street and everything else is a hair pin, and this is the hair pin that everything else is. I'm going to erase that from the tape.

Band: The Guggenheim Grotto

Album: ...Waltzing Alone

They might sound like a lot of other bands if you only half-listen to them, but closer inspection reveals a very distinctive band. They're better than having walls and doors in your head that keep out all the things you want to keep out and let in all the things that bring head-warming presents and say they love what you've done to your head. Most other bands are worse than walls and doors that let in most other bands.


The alphabet can be used for two things and one of them is the same as the other. I'm going to erase that too.

Saturday, August 19, 2006


Music. Revere.

I got some witches to make me some feet for when I'm in space. I spy with my little eye, they made me a little eye instead.

I spend these days wearing a rain coat on the beach, catching all these little pieces of the alphabet, and some of them are words as sharp as shards of glass. You can talk to your shins or Batman's shins or your own shoulders and you can say, "I wish I was talking to Batman's shoulders." Batman's response contains too many sharp words, but it would provide a perfect link to the following line: A timeless fusion of time and something I wrote on my head and forgot about, and the sentences I write on my brain lose their 'if's and 'but's so when I say 'I can fly' I wouldn't be absolutely confident of that.

Band: Revere

They're another Cork band. They released their debut album, Modern Science, on their own label. They're better than Snow White and seven dwarves and three bears. Most other young bands are worse than one of the dwarves fighting with the small bear.

You can find them on Myspace at:

He shoots, he scores, he glues himself to a lilac tree. Let's kick him.

A walk in the rain - Poetry. Ireland. Reading the news with no trousers.
Very Slight Stories - Very short stories.
Henry Seaward-Shannon - Slightly longer short-stories.

More blogs about music.


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