Jon and Libby

Electric Tentacle: Two years old and going strong.   After last month's near miss , it was back to The Electric Tentacle on Thursday for Stoke EMOM's second birthday party, and a stela lineup! As usual, Andy and Colin had decked the place out and were all set up when we got there, including some very trippy visuals. First up was Marcel Holdys, with his dark, heavy, industrial seemingly-improvised glitch beats. Despite this description, there's a fast and furious rhythm to his work that the audience appreciate. He always gets a great reception. Tentacle favourite Marcel Holdys producing the goods    Beech Drive Circular is a new name to me, and chatting to the duo in the bar, it seems they've only been going a few months, but their commercial blend of danceable beats - reminiscent to my ears of a funkier Massive Attack - is already an accomplished sound. I look forward to seeing them again. New sound Beech Drive Circular. A new duo with an accomplished sound. And then we...

It was back to Stoke last week to Electric Tentacle at the Captain's Bar, the scene of our EMOM debut last December. This time, I'd managed to secure the offer of a lift from a curious old school friend, keen to find out what goes on at these things, and to hear the kind of racket Libby and I make.  The Electric Tentacle, all set up and ready to rock...  Now, I should point out that this friend of mine is something high up in the traffic department of Stockport Council, and had that weekend's Stockport County FC homecoming parade to plan for the following morning (meetings with the police, the organisers, business representatives, residents, etc, to plan which streets would be closed and when, how the traffic would be re-routed and to where, and so on. Basically a lot of organising, detail and faff to sort through) so he'd have to leave at 22:30 at the latest to get into work for 7am. Fine, it was only 7pm when we arrived. The gig was slow to begin, and a couple of act...

And so to Hanley, a town described by Wikipedia as having a name derived from either "haer lea", meaning high meadow, or "heah lea" meaning rock meadow. Given that green spaces are sparse and rocks of " monkey dust " are plentiful, it seems rude to accept the former over the latter. Before I left for the Potteries, I weighed the gig bag. 19lbs. No wonder my hips and back hurt the day after I lug it about. If anyone mugs me, they'll never be able to run off with Libby.  Marjorie, my ever-faithful satnav, had expertly guided me through the maze of bypasses and roundabouts despite the traffic to The Electric Tentacle at The Captain's Bar. Trudging from John Street car park (closing time 23:30), I glanced at the time. 6:06pm. A bit early, but for some reason I hadn't felt like eating my tea before I left. The Captain's Bar is about 200 yards away from Victoria Hall, where back in 1983 I saw Gary Numan play. It was my first ever gig and it was...

This blog entry is potentially the hardest to write. It's about a very special kind of nothing. Not even the absence of something. Just nothing. If it's about a feeling, then what is this feeling? Apprehension? Not really. Ennui? Partly. Excitement? Oddly, yes. Being at a loose end? Closer, but not quite.  Ask ChatGPT to wax lyrical about the time between locking in your first set and playing your first EMOM slot, and it will describe the electric thrill that crackles through you, the anticipation and apprehension that bubble up from your very soul. It reads like Paul Morley at his flowery worst, circa whenever you like (he always writes like that). But ChatGPT is an idiot. Artificial stupidity. The feeling is best summed up in one word: waiting. And there's no known cure. Right now, there's no real need to compose anything, no need to arrange anything, or to produce anything. Or any real reason to design new sounds. The set is done. This is the music that will be playe...