Tag Archives: poetry

Guernsey Literary Festival presents The Recks, Heidi Joubert and Harry Baker – The Fermain Tavern – 13/05/17

The Recks

The Recks

Every year the Guernsey Literary Festival sets aside a night of its week-long event to combine music and poetry in the live environment of The Fermain Tavern. In the past this has welcomed the likes of John Cooper Clarke, Linton Kwesi Johnston, Attila The Stockbroker and Ruts DC and this year, in a slight twist, it featured world poetry slam champion Harry Baker, jazz percussion YouTube sensation Heidi Joubert and our own schizophrenic indie folksters, The Recks.

With the venue already busy early on Heidi Joubert took to the stage with her band for a soundcheck that, it transpired, had been delayed by the artists being unable to find the venue during the afternoon (and seemingly the festival organisers unable to give them suitable directions or chaperone them accordingly), so this set things off in an odd way and, seemingly, reduced the length of Baker’s performance as well.

Harry Baker

Harry Baker

This was doubly a shame as, for the five or six poems we were treated to, Baker was excellent. From the surreal flight of fancy Dinosaur Love to a poem about the love between a pair of prime numbers, to his tongue twisting, poetry slam winning, piece of verse centred on the letter P, Baker was one of the most entertaining and engaging performers I’ve witnessed, particularly when you consider he came armed with nothing but his voice and his words.

With a largely subtle performance side setting off his word play, he was a delight and, while I didn’t quite get the parody aspect of his Ed Sheeran reworking, it rounded off his set with a barrage of excellent puns turning a Sheeran love song into something I don’t doubt is far more entertaining and endearing than the original – I just wish there’d been time for more.

After a brief break The Heidi Joubert Trio returned to the stage and proceeded to stumble and dawdle their way through a set of easy listening, Latin style, jazz – interspersed with much talking to the sound man and trying to convince the audience to at once ‘shake it’ and, later on, be quiet!

A little research after the show seems to indicate that much of Joubert’s fame stems from a video of her busking on a train going viral on Facebook and she wasn’t shy in telling us about that during the set either, but what may work in a short online clip failed to remain interesting for the better part of an hour.

Heidi Joubert

Heidi Joubert

Rather than a collection of songs what we experienced felt like a disorganised jam of a set and, while all three were clearly very good players, it didn’t come together to make anything approaching an enjoyable whole and mostly amounted to a lot of other people’s riffs and lyrics forced into jammed out grooves and delivered with a sense of knowing arrogance that was ultimately hugely frustrating.

After that something needed to happen and, thankfully, The Recks delivered.

With something more of an energetic attitude than I have seen from them in a long time they launched into their set (a very similar line up of songs to that heard on Liberation Day) at breakneck pace and never looked back.

All five members of the band seemed intent on making their mark and, while Richey Powers was just the frontman we’ve come to expect, it was Gregory Harrison who really seemed to up his game revealing an intensity previously only hinted at and perfectly fitting his place in the band.

Gregory Harrison of The Recks

Gregory Harrison of The Recks

With next single In The Garden taking on something of a new spirit and the twisted disco of new song She Ain’t No Revelator providing a couple of highlights the performance reached its climax in three-part encore ending on a genuinely deranged Papa Leworthy that was as heavy and dirgey as this band could ever muster.

It’s just a shame many who’d come along early missed the genuine highlight of the night by leaving early and I’m not sure I can put into words how disappointing it was (not to mention disrespectful) that a majority of the events organisers also seemed to have vanished well before their own event was over, but none-the-less The Recks continued their current run of great shows as they head towards the height of summer festival season.

You can see a full gallery of my photos from the show on the BBC Introducing Guernsey Facebook page

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Undaunted (selected poems 2014-2016) by Attila The Stockbroker

Attila The Stockbroker - UndauntedFor over thirty years Attila The Stockbroker has stood as one of the primary forces in the movement of ranting poetry. Grown from the same place as the second wave of punk in the early 1980s, the ranters were often found on the same stages as their noisier contemporaries, but, like the bands, over the years most have fallen by the wayside in one way or another.

Not so Attila. Following his fascinating and frank autobiography last year comes a new set of his poems, his eighth since 1985, suitably titled Undaunted.

Coming from the same scene that gave us the likes of Crass it’s not surprising that much of Attila’s reputation comes from his rabble rousing rebel ranting, and that is firmly in evidence here.

As up to the minute as it’s possible to be he takes on the targets you’d expect, Trump, Brexit, Farage and May in particular, in his own scathing, satirical and down to earth way.

While the titular poem, one of the books longest, is a more serious affair than many, elsewhere it is Attila’s streak of (appropriately) crass humour that makes this more than an ‘angry old leftie’ having a go with Rock ‘n’ Roll Brexit, Farageland, Theresa The Appeaser and Corbyn Supporters From Hell (a play on one of his earlier works) as highlights.

Attila The Stockbroker on stage with Barnstormer

Attila on stage with Barnstormer at Vale Earth Fair 2014

Along with these though we get another side to Attila, one that has always been there but seems more poignant as he moves on with life, poems that, in many ways, feel they really be credited to John. In these he takes a look a life, death and football in a way that is genuinely poignant.

It would be easy for his words on these subjects to become a bit cliché or over-processed like so much bad food, but his manner and style of writing and description just makes them feel real as in Candid Camera, Auntie Rose and the hugely effecting My Ninth Birthday.

Throughout all of these Attila’s politics still feature whether it’s championing the NHS or highlighting how past Conservative governments have caused tragedy for working class communities but in a less direct way, so it’s My Doctor Martens that pulls the two sides together and exists as a macrocosm of the rest of the collection.

Attila The Stockbroker

Accompanied by some excellent illustrations by Dan Woods (guitarist with Attila’s band, Barnstormer) and (I guess i should admit my involvement) a rather nice photo by yours truly taken at the Vale Earth Fair a few years back, Undaunted see Attila The Stockbroker continue to do just what he’s always done; speak his truth loud, proud and clear with an honesty, wit and humour many he ridicules could do with learning a thing or two about.

Much like his great inspiration John Cooper Clarke, Attila’s work may be best experienced read live and loud by its author but none-the-less the written versions remain hugely effective and effecting and it doesn’t seem there’s any slowing down this undaunted veteran yet.

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Ten Years In An Open Necked Shirt by John Cooper Clarke

John Cooper Clarke - Ten Years In An Open Necked ShirtWhile I generally don’t have too much bad to say about the education system I went through, there was one thing throughout my studying of English that they never quite managed to transmit – that poetry really is at its best when read aloud.

Certainly some poetry is a written medium with clever use of form, style and language to make its point, but, much like music, the stuff that really grips me is the performed sort… So enter ‘The Bard of Salford’, Dr. John Cooper Clarke.

First published in 1983, his debut printed collection Ten Years In An Open Necked Shirt takes the cream of Clarke’s early work, from his days as a pioneering ‘punk poet’ and captures them in text.

While it’s clear throughout that this stuff was written to be read out loud and, even better, performed, if read with Clarke’s harsh, biting accent in mind it works just as well on the page as beat and bop meet punk and pop in a surreal satire of life in northern England in the 1960s and 70s that, in many ways, still rings true today.

Supporting punk bands in the late 1970s, as he came too early for the alternative comedy movement he no doubt helped inspire, gave Clarke’s writing a certain political position but, in reading it, it is vividly apolitical. In this it allows the reader to get an image in their mind and, at times, create a political context for it of their own, while at other times simply get lost in a flight of surreal fantasy that captures an aspect of the popular culture of the time.

John Cooper Clarke

John Cooper Clarke (circa 1982)

A couple of specific examples of this could be the triumphant Beezley Street which presents the feel of a hellish nightmare (but probably more realistic) version of (long running soap opera) Coronation Street and it’s sort of opposite Kung-Fu International, obviously capturing the early 70s kung-fu trend through Clarke’s harsh, street level filter.

Throughout things move from bleak to hilarious, often within a verse or stanza, let alone from poem to poem, but all come with a feeling of something that could only have emerged when it did – with The Goons and Spike Milligan clearly as much of an influence as Ginsberg or Kerouac, or Rotten, Vanian, et al.

Along with Clarke’s words the book features some great illustrations by Steve Maguire that work in a similar way to Ralph Steadman’s work with Hunter S. Thompson, though in a less brutally graphic way, but they too capture the mix of surrealism with intense social realism that is a hall-mark of the collection as a whole.

Unlike later punk poets (a trend that really took off in the 1980s) John Cooper Clarke is not a posturing and ranting presence, though he no doubt inspired those and they have their place in the form, but a remote observer. In reading his words you get the feeling he’s been there and done that but this is the view of it from the outside, through those ever-present dark glasses, and in that he timelessly captures life in a way any other media or style couldn’t quite manage.

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The First Third by Neal Cassady

The First Third by Neal CassadyNeal Cassady; off page progenitor of Beat, Dean Moriarty or Cody Pomeray to Kerouac’s Sal Paradise et al, inspirer (and more) of Ginsberg and Howl, godfather of psychedelic counterculture and The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test… or so legend would have it, but could all that possibly be the truth?

In The First Third, Cassady himself sets out his story in his words, or at least some of it, and proves, as you might expect, that it is both truth and a kind of fiction.

Published by City Lights, the original home of the Beat Generation, the book combines a partial autobiography with collected other autobiographical moments, poems and letters that go some way to show the man behind the myth, while backing it up at the same time.

Cassady’s story is one that could only have existed in its time, trapped between the expansionist, pioneering American Dream of the 1800s and the post war malaise that became the Great Depression. The main chunk of The First Third explores Cassady’s youth, following a fascinating if at times fractured exploration of his heritage as the offspring of two families who emigrated to the US as part of that mid-1800s boom.

Neal Cassady

Neal Cassady

His story, while one with a hint of typically romanticised nostalgia for childhood, is about as dysfunctional as they come; skipping between homes, ‘homes’, lodging houses and parents, mostly around Denver, Colorado, along with trips that would prefigure the story that would make he and his alter-ego Moriarty so famous.

Cassady’s style of writing comes in the form of a kind of precursor to the ‘spontaneous prose’ he inspired from Kerouac and, while clearly falling into the Beat aesthetic, has a naivety to it that suits the tales of his childhood adventures and make this section of the book fly by.

The second half of The First Third is more of a mixed bag dipping in and out of tales from Cassady’s teenage and adult life that, as they go on, become increasingly concerned with a seeming obsession with sex and bragging about his sexual conquests. Here his naïve style becomes at odds to the content and often feels repetitive ably demonstrating that an addict talking about his addictions (it seems not only sex but drugs, alcohol and anything else that comes along) are certainly far from the most interesting of subjects.

Ginsberg and Cassady

Ginsberg and Cassady

This continues in the books final section containing a series of letters to Jack Kerouac and then Ken Kesey that bring us up to 1965, three years before Cassady’s death, which at least give the whole a kind of vaguely rounded complete autobiography feel.

In amongst this mixed bag of the books second half is its highlight, a short prose-poem Leaving L.A. by Train at Night, High… Subject wise, it’s all in the title, but Cassady paints a vivid picture from a late 1940s perspective, now lost to the sprawling metropolis the city has become, but with hints and suggestions that even now bring it back to life.

In all, Lawrence Ferlinghetti sums it up in his 1981 Editor’s Note when he describes The First Third as being written in ‘homespun, primitive prose’, but this seems to capture the spirit of the writer and his truly unique story from potential drop out bum to cult icon and hero of a new kind of American Dream that has also since been lost to history and nostalgia leaving in its wake some great literary art.

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Arguments Yard: My Autobiography by Attila The Stockbroker

Arguments Yard by Attila The StockbrokerThe lives of many punks from the late 70s and 80s have been rendered in text in recent years with varying results, I have in the past particularly enjoyed John Lydon’s first autobiography, but none I have read thus far have quite left me with the same feeling as this one.

Attila The Stockbroker, aka John Baine, has been something of a punk journeyman, starting out as a bass player before taking on mandolin, mandola (specifically one called Nelson), fiddle, medieval recorders and it seems anything else that comes his way. But it was his brand of ‘ranting’ performance poetry that made his name.

As well as the stories of gigs and tours, from Harlow in Essex to New Zealand, Canada and pretty much all over Europe, what really stands out in Attila’s story is how everything is related to his strong political beliefs and how these associate with his work.

From the start its clear (even if you didn’t know before, though chances are if you’re reading Arguments Yard you do) that Attila’s politics are, to say the least, to the left of things – I won’t go into detail as I know I’ll just get the specifics wrong. This informed a lot of the choices of gigs and tours he made and leads to us getting a very interesting insight into a side of the world in the 1980s the mainstream media tends not to discuss very much.

Particularly fascinating in this are the chapters on his tours of East Germany (and other Eastern Bloc countries), which paint a far more balanced picture than I’d ever heard. Certainly it wasn’t all wine and roses, and in some places things seem particularly bleak, but there is also a strong streak of free discussion and creativity evident – at least in East Germany.

Attila (seated) with fellow ranter Seething Wells

Attila (seated) with fellow ranter Seething Wells in the mid 1980s

What this serves to show, along with his discussion of his role in miners strike protests, is the level of truth Attila seems to imbue all his work with – again if you’re familiar with his oeuvre this won’t come as a surprise but its impressive to read none-the-less.

More fascinating stories are told of Attila’s formative years on the punk circuit delivering his left-wing message in the face of the National Front and the British Movement, far right organisations that had a worryingly large following in the early 1980s (and sadly seem to be raising their ugly, likely shaved, heads again today – boneheads though, not skinheads).

Much like the East German passages, these shed a new light (for me) on a period I’d only really ever heard one side of.

All these stories could be rather heavy going, but, in the deft words of Attila, they are engaging and absorbing throughout – even when he’s talking about football!

Having seen Attila perform a few times (and I’m proud to say having supported him once as my musical alter-ego) its clear he writes very much as he speaks. Throughout his voice came across, making it almost like having the audio book playing in your head, or Attila there telling you these stories first hand.

Dropped in at appropriate times across the book are some of Attila’s poems and the lyrics to some of his songs that help in telling the stories and setting the scene. Many of these are out of print elsewhere and are no longer performed making Arguments Yard the only place you can easily find them and again, through Attila’s writing style, they really leap off the page if his voice is kept in mind while reading.

Attila The Stockbroker on stage with Barnstormer

Attila on stage with Barnstormer at Vale Earth Fair 2014

The final third of the book deals with much more personal matters but again these are rendered in fascinating and truly open style, and still run through with a (mostly) more relaxed string of gigs and tours. This all culminates in Attila’s most personal and emotionally effecting work, in many ways his masterpiece, The Long Goodbye.

As a fan of Attila already, and sharing some (if not all) of his political ideals – I think it was Fat Mike from NoFX who said if you agree with everything someone else says it’s deeply suspicious – I very much enjoyed Arguments Yard, but I think for anyone with an interest in punk rock, performance poetry, and life in Britain and Europe in the last half century there is a lot to enjoy, all told through the unique, honest and powerful voice of a true ranter.

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Big Sur – The book and the movie

Big Sur first edition coverMuch as I’ve done with a couple of other pieces of Beat writing, Howl and Naked Lunch, I thought I’d take a look at Jack Kerouac’s 1962 novel Big Sur in both its original and its filmic form.

Much like Kerouac’s other works I’ve read (so far On The Road and The Dharma Bums) Big Sur starts off with a something of a combination feel that seemed to typify the literary movement known as the Beat Generation. Weaving poetic words in a semi-prose style, he gives us an insight into a people, a place and time that may, or may not, be a kind of twisted documentary.

In the novel this comes in his typical form of representing real people with pseudonyms and highlighting certain aspects of their characters and giving them his own words to make the points he wishes to make, all in a style that led to him being known as ‘King Of The Beats’.

Specifically in Big Sur he uses this style to take us into late San Francisco’s North Beach in the late 1950s. With the City Lights Bookshop now established and the big names of the movement national celebrities, Kerouac (in the book rendered Duluoz) is the most famous thanks to his television appearances. From North Beach he takes us to a cabin at the titular location south of “Frisco” where he begins writing.

Jack Kerouac

Jack Kerouac

In essence Big Sur begins as a book about its own writing but soon becomes something so much more. An exploration of the cult of celebrity, in an earlier form than we see it now, and the effects of alcoholism, would be a very obvious way to describe it.

In Kerouac’s hands this is rendered in such a poetic way as to really give the feeling of the ups and downs of his (Duluoz’s) life at the time and build on what his previous writing had in telling us about himself.

Thrown in with this we get elements of the travelogue seen in his other work, particularly On The Road, but he also veers further in Burroughs-esque directions as well, with moments where the real world and his protagonist’s twisted perception merge and the reader is left unsure where supposed reality and, for want of a better word, nightmare begin and end.

As with the other works of Kerouac’s I’ve read, alongside his ability to really paint pictures of places and evoke the moods and feelings of them, it is his use (or misuse) of traditional grammar that stands out as a highlight. Doing this is what brings out the book’s poetic feeling that runs throughout as Kerouac uses his own sense of grammar, individual to this work, to make his point.

As the story goes on things become increasingly oppressive and the writing seems to speed up with this, really bringing across the sense of panic and paranoia being felt by Duluoz, and it reaches a terrific crescendo that almost becomes unbearable for the reader as much as it is for the writer/character.

While I would say it is the least enjoyable of the three of Kerouac’s works I’ve read thanks to its oppressive denoument, it is, in a literary sense, possibly more coherent and certainly just as successful in painting its picture and making its point.

Big Sur movie posterMuch like the other Beat works I’ve looked at, translating this onto film is something hard to envision and, while Naked Lunch and Howl take very different approaches to this, both all but rewriting their sources to create something of the same essence but ultimately different, in his 2013 film of Big Sur writer/director Michael Polish gives a very literal interpretation.

Ditching the pseudonyms we follow Kerouac (Jean-Marc Barr) from San Francisco to Big Sur and trace the exact same story in the real locations – though I had a feeling we were looking at City Lights now rather than in the late 1950s, but the rest felt authentic.

Unfortunately in doing this Polish skims over a lot of the source to an extent that, particularly in the middle section, things are rushed and scenes happen with no clear relevance to the whole. At only an hour and 20 minutes there certainly could have been scope to expand some of this to at least have it flow together more coherently.

Another problem is that while the visuals do show much of Kerouac describes something is lost in simply seeing it. While its clear Polish is trying to evoke something of the feeling and thought of the original words, it doesn’t quite work, leaving some nice and well shot scenery if little else.

Josh Lucas and Jean-Marc Barr in Big Sur

Josh Lucas and Jean-Marc Barr as Neal Cassady and Jack Kerouac

Where the film does succeed is in creating an increasingly oppressive atmosphere as it builds to its own crescendo, with Kerouac’s ‘long dark night of the soul’ at the cabin at Big Sur being as well translated to screen as I think could be possible.

While the film is far from a masterpiece it is also far from a failure, but it stands in the long, heavy shadow of an impressive piece of writing that, while not Kerouac’s best, is certainly a literary tour de force giving a real representation of both the writer’s own life and that of the Beat movement he came to personify.

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Norman Watt-Roy, Attila The Stockbroker and support – Fermain Tavern – 19/10/13

Wilko Johnson and Norman Watt-Roy

Wilko Johnson and Norman Watt-Roy

There was a real sense of anticipation in the air as gig goers headed to The Fermain Tavern on Saturday 19th October 2013. Not only was this down to the return of punk-poet legend Attila The Stockbroker to the Tavern’s stage, but also because Blockheads‘ “faith and grace” legend Norman Watt-Roy was headlining with his new band… not to mention the fact that it looked like he might be joined on stage by a third legend in the form of Dr. Feelgood founding member Wilko Johnson.

Before any of that though two Guernsey acts had the privilege of opening the show, starting with The Phantom Cosmonaut. For obvious reasons I won’t say too much about his set other than I had a great time on stage and, from my point of view it was the best gig I’ve played, at least since opening for Wilko on his ‘Farewell Tour’ earlier in the year.

The Crowman

The Crowman

The Crowman (and the “Fiddling Pixie”) were up next and, in his own inimitable style, he managed to break a string on his acoustic guitar during the first song of the set. None-the-less the alter-ego of Thee Jenerators/The Risk/Speakeasy frontman Mark Le Gallez picked up his banjo and carried on regardless with his unique brand of garage-folk that takes in influences of everything from traditional music to The Cramps via down and dirty blues and Hank III style country.

The raw power of The Crowman’s music was backed up for the last few songs tonight by James Le Huray on a four string slide guitar that added something of a Seasick Steve sound to the ongoing racket and made for a set that may have started in an inauspicious fashion but ended on a high.

Attila The Stockbroker

Attila The Stockbroker

Attila The Stockbroker has followed in the footsteps of John Cooper Clarke in both making the phrase punk-poetry a respected genre and in being a favourite at The Fermain Tavern with three gigs here in three years, and tonight continued the trend as his set of spoken word and songs was greeted with warmth, laughter and applause from the start.

Famous for his polemic, ranting style Attila The Stockbroker took on political issues up front, from the off with no subject seemingly taboo with particular highlights of this being a poem about Maggie Thatcher’s recent descent into hell and a song about media coverage of one of Prince Harry’s more public indiscretions. These come alongside all out comedic stories from the road such as Punk Night At The Duck’s Nuts which had everyone in the Tavern laughing and cheering along.

What sets Attila apart from many others in the punk-poetry arena is the way he counterpoints the comedic and the polemic with the heartfelt and the personal. While every word he utters is as genuine as they come, it is when he begins reciting poetry about his family that the real honesty of all his work hits home – tonight this came in the form of a poem about his step father and a story about reminders of his childhood in his late mother’s house.

Following these though he left things on an up note with a solo  version of his band Barnstormer’s song Bye Bye Banker! which may be a slightly uneasy subject for some in Guernsey but went down a storm tonight.

Norman Watt-Roy and Gilad Atzmon

Norman Watt-Roy and Gilad Atzmon

After a short break four musicians took to the stage who, over the course of the following hour, would put on one of the tightest and most impressive performances I’ve ever seen.

Led by Norman Watt-Roy the band ran through a set taking in jazz-fusion numbers alongside their own versions of Ian Dury and the Blockheads’ classics and a few originals as well.

While Norman was undeniably the centre of attention and the leader of his band as he played his custom Fender bass in a way that no other can, seemingly being one with his instrument as his fingers danced on the strings and frets, the other three members all shone as well.

Norman Watt-Roy

Norman Watt-Roy

Particularly impressive were saxophone and accordion player, as well as occasional vocalist, Gilad Atzmon and drummer Asaf Sirkis.

Atzmon used effects to give an extra tone to the already fantastic sax playing and worked most closely with Norman in putting on the show and really making a strong connection with the audience in a way few musicians at any level manage.

Sirkis meanwhile was a technical drumming marvel as he switched from the pseudo-funk of the Blockheads numbers, through frankly amazing jazz-fusion work, to solid and R’n’B style beats with seemingly effortless ease and a huge smile, though he wasn’t alone as all four members seemed to be enjoying the gig hugely.

They weren’t alone in that though as the crowd was packed to the front throughout Norman’s set with many moving, how anyone could stand still to such insistent rhythms is unknown to me, and for those in the crowd who were fellow musicians we could only look on in wonder at the playing on stage.

Wilko Johnson

Wilko Johnson

If the atmosphere was high during the set it shot up even further as Norman Watt-Roy welcomed long time collaborator Wilko Johnson to the stage. With his unique guitar playing added to the mix the band’s sound developed further, taking on a more R’n’B vibe but still with a hint of the jazz and funk from earlier in the set so a couple of Wilko’s own tunes were given the Norman Watt-Roy treatment before the band ended their set.

They weren’t off stage long though before they were called back for an encore which rook the form of an extended version of Dr. Feelgood classic Roxette that reached a crescendo for an already amazing night.

The band left the stage with the promise that they would be back soon and with the crowd calling for more – much like Wilko’s gig here earlier in the year there was a bittersweet feeling that this might be the last time we get to see him in the flesh on a Guernsey stage but, if it was, what a way to go, and it feels like he’s passed his torch to Norman Watt-Roy, a man with an already formidable reputation, playing with one of the best bands I have ever had the pleasure to see in such intimate surroundings.

And all that’s not forgetting Attila The Stockbroker – I’m not sure a better night of varied musical entertainment could ever be had whether by happenstance or by design as this one.

You can see a full gallery of my photos from the show on the BBC Introducing Guernsey Facebook page.

And here is a video clip from the night thanks to Guernsey drumming veteran Sav Russo:

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Music and poetry at the Guernsey Literary Festival

Linton Kwesi Johnson

The second Guernsey Literary Festival took place over the weekend of 14th, 15th and 16th of September 2012 and as well as a bunch of stuff about writing, books and poetry also featured some live music and poetry performance.

The Friday night of the festival saw a low-key night of music take place at the Hub (an inflatable tent next to Guernsey’s Market Building), featuring Oliver Daldry and The Space Pirates of Rocquaine.

The Saturday night saw live music go head to head with live poetry all with a flavour of reggae and punk at The Fermain Tavern with Linton Kwesi Johnson and Attila The Stockbroker performing at the same gig as punk veterans Ruts DC.

Here’s my review of the show which appeared in The Guernsey Press on Saturday 22nd September 2012:

Here are some photos and a couple of videos from the festival (all from my iPhone so varied quality):

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