So a few weeks ago I tantalised you all with shots of the music video I shot in East Oakland, California for the legendary and prolific Cornershop. Now you can see the video in all it's digi-colour glory.  I was going to write technicolor but I always feel that should be reserved to describe proper 35mm film and not digital format. 

Anyway....here is the vid.  It got a world premiere exclusive on Spin Magazine which is very exciting. Odd these days that you have virtually virtual world exclusives. Without risk of sounding like old befuddled old fogey, it is all about hits and downloads these days which is kind of odd and kind of different. I miss the excitement and anticipation of LP's and 12" and 7" singles. I used to love popping the shrinkwrap, pulling out the sleeve - it was always tight with static the first time you pulled the record from the inner sleeve wasn't it?

I hope you like it. I was so committed to making it - it was fuelled with a combination of fate, karma, brute focus and a clutch of lucky airmiles that finally got me there. It was hard work and different. I made a photojournal documenting the precarious way I came to make it.  And here is tantalising post take two! The photojournal has another exclusive release this coming Monday so you are all going to have to keep your eyes peeled for it  - either on here or via other social media platforms. Goodness - the world, the machines, the links! All I can say is that it will take you from the roots of hip hop to a corner of the 4th most dangerous city in the US where hand on heart I never felt more safe in my life. People looked out for me and the sense of community was immense. I miss it and want to go back to make a bigger film. It will be a film about hope, dreams and real people.

 

 

 

 

I have been very blogremiss of late but to kick start the return to my blog we need to have a bit of a party. Hold your hands in the air and party like you just don't care. Say whoooo!

Ok now you have had your fun you can read all about my new UK feature film Greengrass here:

http://greengrassukfilm.blogspot.co.uk/

It's a drama with some dark comedy set in Deal on the Kent coast. It's about Maggie McDuff - a young girl who goes to extraordinary lengths to make her life better - with some consequences.

We are currently at the funding stage. It is tremedously exciting and a lot of hard work - which is why I have had my head down un-blogging.

In addition to that I've also directed a documentary-based music video for Cornershop. It was quite a journey - it took me from London to East Oakland, Ca. and back. All will be revealed on Thursday 22 March when you can see the world premiere exclusive online on a well-known music site - watch this space! Here are some stills from the vid:

Thanks for watching and toodlepip dearies..

6.82 squared years ago today my Mum had me, got dressed, did her hair and my Dad took a photo.

I can't believe how high my Mum's hair was!

And the best thing about this morning was opening this envelope.

I love the care and concentration in the letters.

The happiness of being young.

And when I am grown up and 64 I hope to be dancing around my kitchen like this:

Marvellous

Right. Nothing like a bit of selfish, shameless self promotion to revive my ailing blog blight.

This is an interview I shot back in May in East Oakland, California. I drove by a tenant eviction protest and stopped to talk to the protesters - of which Gordon was one. It is a one take, spontaneous interview. Gordon is a homeless diabetic. He was on his way to hospital having recently lost his right leg he was now worried that he was about to lose the other to infection. The interview has heightened poignancy as on several occasions we were interrupted by 7 yr old Kavere who wanted to tell us all about dinosaurs. The connection between man and boy is galling in parts - the harsh reality of Gordon's situation versus the magic of Kavere's world.  As I left I felt compelled to give Gordon a hug. I knew when he said "I'll be around somewhere" he had unspoken concern that he may not make it. Me too. I appreciated his warmth and honesty and will never forget him.   I was actually there to shoot something else at the time - a music video for Cornershop featuring Turf Feinz. You can't see that film yet as it won't be released until 2012 but you can see this:

 

I am breaking a bit of a terribly remiss and lacklustre blogsilence to self promote. Shock! Horror! Gasp! Yawn!

Do you like punk music? Do you like silliness? Do you remember seeing this and liking it?

Fancy donating to help get a documentary series made?
Then click here:

We need more money to continue and expand the taster film in order to pitch to US broadcasters.

Thank you - and if you really love it that much you can also become a fan here:

Ta ra for now and thank you for coming by.

And if you are really really bored you can go here: Listen With Rockmother podcasts

Oh yes!

I do bad things on the tube.

I take pictures of people when they aren't looking and sometimes write about them - bullet notes in the back of my notebook like this:

Sitting next to a boy desperately coating himself in Allure Pour Homme as if his life depended on it. Mad US tourists with bottoms like wobbly half-filled water bags cramming in and shouting "one stop" to their party. Walk you fools!

Exasperated camp man in a bright green polo shirt has flumped next to me in a huff. I can see his tummy. His shirt doesn't fit which mirrors his manner in a funny but awkward way. He is reading the list of ingredients on a jar of marmalade.

Today is an odd day on the tube.

Anyway this is all by way of saying that my dedicated Tube Tales site now has a new home HERE.

Enjoy.

Never before has food been quite so contentious and disgusting.

Ladies and Gentlemen - I give you - The Lasagnwich! The Lasagnwhat? You heard!

Suddenly there is temptation to start speaking like Peter Kay and walking around shouting and pointing in mock disbelief:

"Lasagnnnnwich"?

"Lasagne! In a sandwich?"

"A sandwich ? With lasagne in it"?

Yes - with a mighty dollop of mayonnaise slathered in between both sides presumably to help the starch slip down with yet more fatty imbued starch I guess. It could be worse - it could be deep-fried? Or god forbid in a tin like this poor unfortunate and rather flaccid looking whole albino chicken covered in what looks like obstetric scan gel?

I dread to think what else comes from Sweet Sue's Kitchen - but perhaps I'll save that for another post. In my forays I did come across a whole tinned cheddar which when grated looked like maggots on a platter. Apparently it goes down a storm in Australia due to the lack of fridges. Again, mind boggles.

Anyway, back to sandwich's. Imagine if you could get a sandwich in a can? Pardon the pun but you can! Well you were going to before the inventor took the $153 million investment money and spent it all on real estate, fast cars and horses for himself.

Actually I think he has done the world a favour - these won't be seeing the light of day now until the fraud case has been decided. Candwichman will be eating a different sort of sandwich from now on and in a different and rather ironically named new home - the can!

Can you dig it?

Sayonara toodlepip children.

Goodness - it has been a long time. Seems that I have had a bit of a blogblock but am slowly overcoming it. Below is a bloody brilliant bit of complaining that my Dad has submitted to Jacky at the rather Kafa-esquely named Olympic Delivery Authority - Planning Decisions Team (what?):

In our time we have seen some vacuous bombast from Mr. Kapoor but this is literally astonishing in it's incoherence. The metallic surface/colour is that seen on pound shop flasks. It displays an utter lack of any indication of form/function/dynamic [see adjacent stadium & Thames basin light] and 'connecting' with the senses. The 'movement' of the whole - it's energy, is that of a coat-whirling lout drunk on cider at an Iron Maiden gig - circa 1980., or a Hammer Throw gone very, very, wrong.

Within the context of the site it looks as if a rogue scrap merchant has dumped this overnight, to despoil a site as would the worst of graffiti on a clean building. What is required is a clean simplicity that does reach for the stars - as does the 'Shard' . The very sight of the 'orbit' brings a shudder engendered by the worst of totalitarian monsters, the ethos of threat, oppression and thuggish dogma. Even the base entrance/platform is a dull hostile box - think 1950's army barracks. An accident that looks as if has already happened, or is delayed in time. It is vulgar to the point of insult.

It has no remarkable post-Olympic function such as a concert arena in the sky. Even though sheathed in it's lurid metallic lustre, being steel it will eat up maintainence funds when the east winds prevail October through April. I'm sorry, but we object and in the strongest terms possible. Thank you - JE.

Oooh Papa! Nay, nay and thrice nay!

I am off to see Iggy & The Stooges perform the whole of Raw Power as per the original 1973 line-up tonight. It will be strange not seeing Ron Asheton up there in his army jacket with his trademark stance of standing virtually still, dancing his elegant hands over the guitar strings and making an amazing sound like a cheesegrater being rubbed over the frets.

Even better the gig is at smelly old Hammersmith Apollo (nee Odeon) which has a bar that looks like it should be inhabited by extra's from Star Wars. I am so looking forward to this gig. But I am also trying very hard to resist the urge to dress like this:

or this:

I will probably end up going in something like this:

No not really!

Nice jacket.

I took pictures of people while they weren't looking on the tube home last night.

Specimen 1: Aussie girls going home after working restaurant shift:

Specimen 2: Italian couple talking Italian. She had trout lips and very expensive leather gloves and they were fascinated with a passenger who had a doughnut in a clear carrier bag:

Specimen 3: A very glam long-legged woman reading a catalogue trying not to laugh:

Specimen 4: A man reading the koran. He was with mates who weren't into what he was doing. He was also with his much younger brother who should have been in bed!

There is a picture I didn't take out of respect (but wanted to) on the way into town. A painfully thin and obviously dying man sitting next to an also painfully thin man off his face on very strong drugs. The contrast was startling. Both men dying but at very different rates and brought together in a totally random formation in a city of millions. Who would have thought that they would have ended up sitting next to each other - both I am sure on very separate personal journeys. On the one hand a terminally ill man having probably one of his last night's out with his partner. He looked so thin and weak. His new thin shoulders swamped and awkward under his old, healthily-shouldered overcoat. I looked down and his shoes were very new and hardly worn. Brown and plain but filled with the most magnificently pink socks. A hint to a vibrance of the soul that still lurked as the remainder was being cruelly sucked away. I wanted to congratulate him on his choice of socks but he looked like he didn't want anyone to see him. I wanted to ask if I could take a picture of his shoes and socks as I knew this said so much about him but didn't out of respect. When he got up I could see why the shoes didn't look worn. Each step was very light and the foot placed with the least pressure possible. I could see the effort for him to walk was extraordinary and as he left the carriage I wondered how much it must of been for him to dress himself that evening. I could see his live determination as if it were fizzing. I imagine he won't be able to do that very soon. The man in the pink socks. I wish him well.

Hands up who had a gonk? Am I showing my age? What on earth possessed people to

(a) make these ?
(b) buy them ?
(c) collect them ?

I had a few - a turquoise fun fur one, a really ugly brown one that got bullied by the other gonks and my favourite one which was made of pale sugared-almond-pink rabbit fur. Actually it may have been baby kitten fur for all I know as it was handmade by my evil Nana. I had a nice 'Gran' and an evil 'Nana'. It was evil Nana that made me the gonks. I ended up getting quite bored of them and donated them to a really square girl who lived across the road from me called Rosemary. Rosemary had much older parents than mine and was really good. She never got into trouble and only ever wore skirts - and never dressed in anything unless it was static-inducing nylon.

She was always smiling despite the fact she never came out to play much or join in our mammoth riding up and down the street on our bikes sessions. I once invented a "Secret Spy Club" but didn't invite her to join because she was too boring and wouldn't bring biscuits to the meetings which was a proviso for joining. But quietly we were all a bit envious of Rosemary as she had a huuuge gonk collection and that was why we wanted to spy on her. The rumour went that she actually had a human size gonk amongst her 70-proud gonk collection but no one was ever allowed in to see them. Even after Rosemary had finally left home her mother said that she had kept her room as it was complete with full gonk collection. I am surprised she could get in it for all the gonks but there you go.

I always wondered what happened to Rosemary and her gonks.

Update: a little freebie from those lovely people at XL - you can preview the whole of the new album here:
>

I was beginning to worry that Gil Scott-Heron was never coming back after another spell in prison and an ongoing battle with serious illness. Here is a preview of the first release off the forthcoming album out Feb 08 2010. Apparently on tour in the UK April - if they let him in the country (Gil leave the drugs at home)! Let's hope he does and they do. I think this is great.

Enjoy.

And don't forget to watch, rate, share Rockmother Films' Rat Scabies Grailhunter Teaser here
And if you love it that much you can become a fan here

And if you are still bored and desperate for something to do then whip out the ironing and load up
** Listen With Rockmother podcasts here **

Happy listening my little choux buns!

Here is the trailer for Banksy's forthcoming feature Exit Through The Gift Shop. Like it. Like it a lot.

And don't forget to watch, rate, share Rockmother Films' Rat Scabies Grailhunter Teaser here
And if you love it that much you can become a fan here

And remember kids...

Keep 'em peeled!

And if you are still bored and desperate for something to do then whip out the ironing and load up
** Listen With Rockmother podcasts here **

Ta ra chooks.

© Shameless Plug Promotions 2010

Yes - we've been a bit busy over the last few months over here at Romo Towers digging the wondrous Mr Rat Scabies out of his West London habitat and sending him off on a mission which so far has taken him from Folkestone to France and back. The culmination of which is this three minute teaser film for what hopefully will eventually become a series. So without further ado I give you...Rat Scabies Grailhunter!

Comments and feedback welcome.
Join the facebook fanpage here

All new New Year Listen With Rockmother podcast here:

and all other Listen With Rockmother archive shows here

Enjoy.

Ladies and Gentelmen I give you....Hot Shito! No shit - does what it says on the tin.

All new New Year Listen With Rockmother podcast here:

and all other Listen With Rockmother archive shows here

And if you are still bored - here is Extreme Toboggan Fitness Rockmotherstyle:

(c) Sore Arse Productions

Goodness gracious me - it's a New Year and a brand new podcast from The Rockmother. Yes I know - I almost fainted myself to be honest - mainly with the sheer effort of withstanding a 28 hour+ upload problem whilst preparing a New Years Eve meal and surviving an attack of pre-alzheimers to boot. There is a glaring error in this podcast - can you spot it? I'm off to order my trepanning kit because Father Christmas failed to bring me one this year - again.

Click HERE for latest LISTEN WITH ROCKMOTHER podcast. Or play here:

Ta ra chooks. And enjoooy.