Fat Roland's Audio Spaceship episode 1: the time of my life

In preparation for my Edinburgh Fringe show Kraftwerk Badger Spaceship, I've done a thing. It's called Fat Roland's Audio Spaceship. I wrote and recorded it in one day on my phone, all first-drafty and clunky sound. You'll enjoy it.

In Fat Roland's Audio Spaceship, I waffle on about 1987, badgers, not-Kraftwerk, poo on a road, a vending machine scandal, Twitter and, to a lesser extent, funnels.

If you have any ideas about episode two of this, er, thing, let me know in the comments.

Kraftwerk Badger Spaceship: an Edinburgh free fringe show

Kraftwerk Badger Spaceship is the name of my debut show at the 2015 Edinburgh Fringe. There will be a special Manchester preview on July 26th and you are invited.

My one-hour solo appearance in Edinburgh as part of Laughing Horse's free festival is "a spoken-word comedy about one idiot’s battle with electronic music... is it poetry or prop comedy or just a fat man with too many marker pens?"

Here are some dates for your diary...

Kraftwerk Badger Spaceship: Manchester preview
Gullivers, Oldham Street, Manchester
Sunday 26 July 2015 8pm

Kraftwerk Badger Spaceship
Cellar Monkey, Argyle Place, Edinburgh
Thurs 6 to Wed 19 August 2015 5pm

When blog success propelled me into the sweltering heart of Manchester's performance scene, I never really thought it would come to this. I've just taken a week of work to knock the show into better shape - and I've been live-tweeting that process on the curation Twitter account We Are Manc. To be honest, having that accountability has kept me sane. Almost.

See you in Manchester / Edinburgh / Edinmanchesterburgh.

Fat Roland: spring playlist 2015

I've made a SoundCloud playlist for you to jam into your ears.

We start with the beautiful Throwing Snow, before Megatronic brings us into something a little less ethereal. There's some popular bass-shredders in the middle, and then Lukid starts off a really dour section that should separate the techno-heads from the, er, techno-headlesses. And yes, there's a track in here that sounds well Orbital.

This is all recent or only slightly dusty. Happy listening.

The Saboteur Awards: doing quite well at spoken word and that

I’ve done it again. I’ve won an award. It’s been five years since the last one. This was, though, much more of a collaborative effort: Bad Language won ‘best spoken word night’ at the 2015 Saboteur Awards, which means it’s the best spoken word night the UK. Or at least, in the geographical area that covers Saboteur funding. There may be other spoken word award ceremonies, I don’t know. There are probably thousands of them. Millions. Anyhoo, it’s good, whatever it means.

I decided in 2013 that I wanted to run Bad Language. I went to B&Q, bought some pitchforks, and scared two thirds of the organising team off to London. Third organiser Joe Daly proved a much stronger foe: he insisted on running it with me. Our organising meetings consist of us throwing rocks at each other while shouting really long names from the Bible. Somehow, we manage to put on well-attended nights without everyone being fried by killer robots, and the Sab Award has made all the hard work worthwhile. Thanks to the hundreds who voted for us. This is a testament to the dedication of our audience, the commitment of our performers, and Joe’s immense drive for new and interesting events.

I couldn’t make the ceremony itself. I had to be in work to throw some numbers at spreadsheets. Joe went to the Sabs with Bad Language co-founder Dan Carpenter. It sounds like they had a great time. They hooked up with all sorts of people from the UK literature scene: I’ve seen the photos on Facebook of them all bleary-eyed and wine-stained. I’m not bitter. E17, by the way. That’s my favourite spreadsheet cell. That and U96. I sometimes sing Stay Another Day and Das Boot as I sit there in front of the spreadsheet. On my own. No, I’m not bitter at all.

It’s been an honour to co-host Bad Language for the past 14 months. I don’t know where we go from here: our only aim is to put on great live literature in Manchester. So we’ll do some more of that.

Fractions 12: Clouds

Every now and then, I make little videos for a series of fictional fragments called Fractions. Here's the latest one. This edition is 'Clouds' and it's about clouds.

The text is taken from the Jusbin Bebber Twitter account (something I also write as a kind of sandbox for stupid ideas). See those tweets below the video.

 

theres a cloud above my bed the cloud knows my name and im like hey cloud and the clouds like shut up im trying to remember your name

— Jusbin Bebber (@JusbinBebber) April 21, 2015

one day the clouds will fall on us and we will die tickled and laughing

— Jusbin Bebber (@JusbinBebber) April 20, 2015

Five ways to survive the next five years of Tory government

The Tories won the election and this can only be bad news for the vulnerable and the poor. Many people won't know what living under a Tory majority is like: the last time they won an election, Right Said Fred and Altern-8 were in the top ten.

It's okay though because I have sure-fire methods so we all survive the next five years.

1. Dig a hole

It doesn't matter where you are - in your garden, in front of the toaster, in the shower - start digging. Make it a good and deep hole. Climb into the hole on regular occasions.

Make friends with the worms. The hole is your home.

2. Make a Baked Alaska

Is it hot? Is it cold? It's both, but how can that be? Baked Alaska is the most demonic of all the desserts and its contradictions can never be understood. Make a Baked Alaska.

Then bury it in the hole for it must never be mentioned ever again.

3. Rant on social media

Rant on social media about how awful the government is. Your followers in your part of the echo chamber will love you for this, because they agree with you and deserve to be castigated for that. Whatever you do, don't write letters or contact those in power.

Install broadband in your hole.

4. Arm yourself

When the hospitals get sold off to casinos and every third child is converted into Tesco shares, you'll need a high profile and shocking strategy. Have several dozen extra arms grafted onto your body. Run down the street flapping your new limbs like an octopus on Free Scallop Tuesday.

Be careful not to fall down a hole. There will be a lot of holes by now.

5. Rent out your chin

Rent your chin to campers and caravanners. Offer cheap toilets and good drainage. Show them the view from your forehead. Tell them this is as good as anywhere on Anglesey, although the crazy golf is shut for the summer. When they ask you about your ill-advised goatee, change the subject. Perhaps suggest they move their tent into the hole. It has Baked Alaska in.

Mmm, Baked Alaska, they'll say as they lick their CamperGaz stove with longing in their eyes.

In summary...

Many will suffer under this government. Ranting on social media will not be enough. Choose your campaigns, whether it's 38 Degrees or Liberty or Quaker Social Action. Whatever. But choose something and start small, for you will need your energy.

Be active, be kind, be focussed.

You didn't expect this to suddenly get serious, did you? I'm thinking through how I can become more socially active over the next five years: when I do this, my imagination throws out a load of junk. Hence the arm/chin nonsense above.

Sorry about that. There is no such thing as an octopus-human. And Baked Alaska is kind of disgusting.

We need to protest as much as we did back in the 1990s. You are not in a hole. You can stand tall, and you can speak to power. In the words of Right Said Fred, it's time to Activ-8.

Wait.

Wrong band, dammit.

Letting music decide the 2015 UK general election, obviously

This year's UK general election has left me wavering like never before. I don't have television, so the leaders' debates were lost on me. We have a couple of days before the polls open, and I am truly undecided.

So I decided to ask music. If I was to judge the party leaders, it would be through the filter of a gramophone, my head jammed into its horn while they dribbled on about immigrants and deficits and tax credits.

In reality, it's down to the red and the green. But let's take all five main parties into account...

Tory

David Cameron is firm and unwavering. A bit plain, as if he's just come out of the packaging. He is minimal techno. He is Robert Hood. If you like Robert Hood, vote Conservative.



Labour

Ed Miliband is inaccessible and awkward. Spend enough time with him and you may begin to understand him.  He is Autechre. If you like Autechre, vote Labour.



Liberal Democrat

Nick Clegg is someone you drifted from a long time ago. You wonder how you were ever into him because he seems so, meh. He is Zero 7. If you like Zero 7, vote Liberal Democrat.



Green

Natalie Bennett is different from the others. In some way this is good. In some ways this is bad. Listening to her is not always the most pleasant experience. She is the hardcore gabba band Neophyte. If you like Neophyte, vote Green.



The other one

Nigel Farage is awful, like something on the bottom of your shoe that could be a slug or someone's excrement, you're not sure. And yet, he's so listenable. Catchy, even. He is LMFAO (pictured). If you like LMFAO and think women should "shut the f*** up" (Redfoo, 2014), vote Ukip.



I don't have a Plaid Cymru or an SNP near me, but obviously they'd be Boards of Canada and Scooter respectively.

That's decided it then. I think.

Did Emily Davison throw herself under those hooves just so I could ooze this kind of nonsense all over my blog? Has Simon Cowell bought the copyright on the X we have to place in the box on Thursday? Am I going to have that LMFAO track in my head for much longer?

All will be decided in the 2015 UK general election. Whoever wins, we're going to have to listen to them for five years.

The Chemical Brothers - Sometimes I Feel So Deserted

This track (see below) feels like all build-up, but that's no bad thing considering it's the opener to the Chemical Brothers' new album. Sometimes I Feel So Deserted could have done with a pneumatic drop at that three-minute mark. Still, it's acidy and deep and bodes well for their first studio album for five years.

I recently wrote up a review of Leftfield's first album in 16 years. You'll have to wait for the next Electronic Sound for thoughts on that one.