I wrote a menagerie of tunes on Roz's piano high in her Brixton tower block where, in the distance, the London Eye rose by laborious degrees. A similar elevation was occuring, more rapidly, in my own bosom so I decided to try some experiments in the studio.

My old friend...

My Plutonium Days Are Over

My piss is toxic waste, and none surprised: this venue has many times been host to symphonies of whiskey, á go-go and otherwise, all slinky movement, processions of chemicals, a trampling of faith and innocence religious in its intensity....

I stare into infinity...

Skyball the endless...

Part 1: Mercury, Saturn and the Tuning Wrench

So there I was in the precarious but shimmering intensity of the 'Acoustic Shrieks', that thoroughly lovable, convulsively perverse aggregation of talented freaks (me, Mark Raudva, Martyn Barker and Lu Edmonds -later joined by Simon...

As a kid I became fascinated with Kenneth William's character Rambling Sid Rumpo on the radio show 'Round the Horne.' Rambling Sid was a parody of the earnest minstrels of the 60's who prefaced each tune with a cultural analysis using the archaic words of yesteryear. This ambiguity of course...

Loving Up the Thing

I felt like reclaiming my 80's electropop birthright since it was all so dam' fashionable at the time of writing but bringing to the form some of the subversive edge of it's original exponents (I was thinking Eurythmics and...

reflections track-by-track 1:

Simpler Machines a song about mechanical nostalgia inspired by a phrase of the architectural critic Robert Harbison (who was, you may care to know, also obliquely responsible for '50 ways of looking at a Cormorant (long story). He said: 'there is no...

I, Barry Andrews, shall be -er- 'blogging' here regularly, as we are assured, will be Carl Marsh and, who knows, other Shrieks-of-yore. In fact, let's call this Blog #1. About that: since I feel the world probably has more than enough fatuous babble...