You've Got To Get In To Get Out
So, we meet again. Welcome to the latest edition of the newsletter that knows so many long words it has to use a number nine font to fit them all in. Yes people, it's Blyth Power mailout time, and as usual there is news, there are exciting prospects, bogus superlatives, and a whole host of pointless trivia to fill out the gaps. You know it makes sense. Pointless trivia part one is our caption competition. The paragraph headings in this edition are all taken from a famous pop record. Can you name the band and the album? If you can't don't worry. If you can then don't expect any fabulous prizes as we're still getting round to sorting them out from last time, and it will soon be time for QUIZ II, THE RECKONING! Oooh I can hardly wait. But wait we must, until the sands of time have all run, like the days of…. Oh…we did that one last time. Sorry.
The Trucker's Eyes Read Overload
I guess before we launch into the traditional round of trying to make you buy things and travel to far-flung locations to witness sundry events we had better offer some explanation for the little hiccups that marred the final leg of the great September tour. Did I say little hiccups? Actually they were steaming great mounds of incompetence, but they weren't our fault… Ironically, having fulfilled all our commitments over the weekend of the 'great fuel crisis' (as historians will be forced to record it), it was the weekend after that came unstuck. The fuel farce was circumvented with the assistance of Mr Gary Miller and the Whisky Priests' van. Gary came to our rescue, drove us to Sheffield, Otley and Hull, helped us do just about everything and nearly had Jessi Adams playing an acoustic guitar. In the end he did so himself, joining in with TDL's solo set at Otley, playing a support slot in Hull, and joining the band onstage for Stitching in Time. The weekend went comparatively painlessly, and we're extremely grateful to Gary for all his assistance. Vane Tempest found its way back into the set at Hull, which was fun, and in Otley we were joined onstage for Signalman White by the self same Yvette who sang on the original recording. The following weekend, in Bristol, we bumped into another old cameo. Mr Paul Choirs, who crooned on the intro to Castle Cary, turned up out of the blue. You could have knocked us down with feathers. TDL is growing uneasy now, as you clearly never know who is lurking round the next corner… It was the last weekend in September that went pear shaped. The projected Wednesday afternoon 'festival of kettles' gig in Stockton went first, when local councillors objected to the organisers accepting sponsorship money from Nestles. I say 'organisers', but use the term advisedly, as it was the same promoter who failed to bother with the Stockton gig on the Thursday. Apologies to those who turned up expecting to see Mad Dogs play. The venue contacted us and said the promoter had vanished leaving them with a date booked about which they knew nothing, and which had not been promoted. Would we please agree to postpone it? We did. Apparently people on the night were told WE had cancelled. Not true… Likewise Newcastle Art Centre on the Saturday. We were approached by the venue and asked that as they had entirely failed to organise or promote the event - they did accept full responsibility - would we please agree to postpone it. Again we did. Sorry to anyone inconvenienced, but this is what happens when you try to work on a basis of trust and don't have an army of contract-wielding lawyers at your beck and call. More fools us. So there we were. Two gigs out of five happened. The only good thing about Newcastle being blown was that rumours had been going around that some unruly Brittany Spears fans were going to turn up and cause mischief. Presumably they were thwarted.
The Wise and Foolish Virgins Giggle
That's a really stupid title for a paragraph. Still, we've set off down this road, so I guess we're committed now. Talking of rank folly we are moved to regret the revelation in the last edition that TDL had been accused of Brittaniolotry. Since then, we have been deluged with press clippings and all manner of gubbins concerning Miss Spears, to the extent that one determined stalker has had to be warned off with a stern solicitor's letter. We are currently keeping a file of evidence, lest criminal proceedings become necessary, and are alarmed at the sheer extent of trivia covering every aspect of the woman's life and career. Should the case not come to trial, we will be auctioning off this mass as soon as it reaches one hundredweight. In the meantime, those of you unable to refrain from further outrage: 'See that Brittany Speers? We DON'T fancy her', and will, if necessary, be seeking injunctions to protect ourselves from further injury.
The Grand Parade of Lifeless Packaging
Did we really used to listen to this record? Were we entirely bereft of all reason? Time now to get to the serious business of selling things, and with the Christmas rush on the horizon, we here at Central Office are rubbing our hands together in glee at the thought of all those aunties, uncles, nieces, nephews, and assorted lesser relatives who will be waking up on Christmas morning to something delightful from the Blyth catalogue. Go on. You know it makes sense. Think of the delightful confusion upon the face of your Godson when he finally realises that a Bricklayers Arms CD will not fit in his Gameboy, and that the figures on the front of the Live Skull are not Pokemon. Or imagine the joy and gratitude of the elderly aunt able to wrap herself warmly in an XL Blyth T-shirt. Think of 1001 uses for a Paradise Razed cassette, and get those cheques winging their way here. New to the mailorder form, then, are two T-shirt designs. The first of which is a simple Blyth Power logo - a shirt for all seasons - that is red and white (or red and black on the white shirts). This design is available in XL only, but in either white, black, grey or bottle green. Far more exciting, and guaranteed to appeal to doting parents and skinny Northerners alike are the amazing ultra-special (keep those superlatives coming) kids T-shirts. Tastefully yellow, these articles feature a logo in black, the George and Dragon from Live Skull and the legend 'The Next Generation'. Cynically aimed at the Christmas market we are devious enough to have made them in three sizes: age 3-4, age 7-8 and age 12-13. The latter we are confident will fit the leaner adult, but we don't anticipate them being a big hit at the next beer festival. So there you are. What better way to keep your kids off crack cocaine and joyriding? Look no further for your loved ones this year. Buy Blyth now. You know you want to! The usual range of quality products is advertised overleaf, and there is now a facility on line to allow your credit card to order direct. Don't you just love technology?
Sleeping Cheaply on the Midnight Row
Uggghh! Don't you feel dirty after that last paragraph? What a sordid business. Back in the slipstream of pure art, we feel duty bound to keep you abreast of ongoing developments. TDL is now moonlighting as drummer for The Whisky Priests, which means his time is organised into blocks. Hence not many gigs 'til next year as the WPs are gallivanting off on a fifteenth anniversary tour. Those of you unfamiliar with the band are urged to check them out. There's a link from our website, so hurry along… In the meantime the besuited avaricious one is toiling to put band/solo gigs into the first three months of 2001. As usual, anyone wanting a band or a short chap with a guitar for their wedding/party/etc should call the numbers above. Recording plans are, perforce, on hold. We don't want to stint on the studio bill next time round, as the first full-blooded-6-cylinder-bone-crunching-baby-eating Blyth CD since Out From Under the King is going to wipe the floor with all that has gone before. Watch this space and wait, and in the fullness of time all will be achieved. Oh yes.
Mild Mannered Supermen are Held in Kryptonite
Sorry. Couldn't find an Internet related lyric, as it's a 1970's LP. Any guesses yet? Thankfully we're nearly done, so we won't have to dredge through the bowels of our memories for many more inanities. Have you seen the amazing new website yet? If you have you'll realise that it is only partially complete. Mad Dr. McB is donating his time for free, so it's being done in and around his hectic schedule of torturing rabbits. In the meantime we have almost been initiated into the mysteries of the software package that will soon enable us to upload regular and constant updates. Hurrah! News and Blythwatch were done this week, along with the first instalment on the amazing thoughts, insights, and petty grievances of the illustrious Chairman Meeow. If you've not got on the Internet yet, then at last there is a real reason to do so. Once the final bit of jiggery-pokery is in our hands we aim to keep things moving on the site, with serials, news, updates, sarcasm, and lots and lots of sly digs at people we don't like, so come along and join in the fun.
The Porcelain Manikin With Shattered Skin Fears Attack (Chairman's Bit)
MnuuuhhhhhhHH? Curses. Foul curses…bbblllrrrrummmm….Humph…VET?…VET?…what is this VET of which you speak? I need no VET. Suffer not the little ones to go unto the VET lest they relieve themselves uncontrollably and vomit in thine automobile…bbblluuurrrmph….spgglllpphhhhhh….Hah! Serves you right.
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