Dicky ticker bloke, I hope you are okay

Flipping heck. First thing this morning, I found myself chatting to a bloke having an apparent heart attack. We had a difficult and, frankly, dark conversation as he slumped to the pavement.

That kind of makes it seem I was watching on as if he was a telly programme, expecting A Big Brother narrator to chip in at any moment. Prodding his nose to see if the channel changed.

Actually, someone else was nattering with 999, and my sum contribution was gaining some pertinent medical detail to pass onto the paramedics, sheltering him with my umbrella because Manchester city centre was piddling down, and nipping to Spar to see if they stocked aspirin. They didn't.

He was way too young to kick the bucket, and I'm hopeful that Manchester Royal Infirmary will stitch his ticker up good and proper and send him on his way. Although the Tory conference is in town at the moment and they're probably burning down all the hospitals within a ten mile radius.

Weird day. Look after yourselves, blog chums. Don't make me have a difficult conversation with you on a rainy Manchester street.

This pastoral Four Tet track reminds me of a sad Plaid

Cor. It's not been a bloggy month. A lot more silence than words. A whole load of white space rather than brain-splurges on your screen.

I was doing so well writing regularly too. Don't worry, I've not been skiving. I've been running stuff at the International Anthony Burgess Foundation, penning words for Electronic Sound and Manchester Wire, and working on that Lowry show I've been banging on about.

Am I too busy? You're probably right. I should take it easy. I should make a hammock, hammer it into the walls of my writing shack, and lose myself in Four Tet's pastoral new track Scientists.

The track is taken from his new chill-out album - yes, I said chill-out album - called New Energy. The album release follows a few equally meditative singles in recent months. I chose Scientists to preview here because it's beautiful and reminds me of a sad Plaid.

Right. Enough listening to this track. Let's write about it! *presses publish*



Picture: Gary Wolstenholme/Redferns/Getty Images

I'd explain the alpaca thing but it's a long story

I've been quiet for the past week because I've been busier than Mr Busy running a busy business in Busytown.

My cartoons got an airing at The Lowry when I performed fragments of my 2018 show to a room of theatre bods. I've been planning event bookings at the Burgess, which almost derailed when I had to go to hospital with a poorly leg. And I bogged off on a retreat with writing friends to recharge, revive and re-e-wind the crowd say bo selecta.

Things I've learned in the past week:

> The recording of Factory Floor's album 25 25 was delayed by a spider.

> When you pick a kicked-over Mobike off the floor (the hire bicycles that can be found across Manchester), they bleep at you angrily.

> I know way more LCD Soundsystem tracks than I realised.

> Children don't know what cassette tapes do.

> If you join the syllables of Nickelback, Backstreet Boys, Boyz II Men, Menswear, Air and Aerosmith, you get NickelbackstreetboyzIImenswairosmith.

> Cumbria community hospitals are very friendly and have doctors whose first name is Johnson.

> Never google the lifespan of an alpaca.

FINALLY, here's what the 'LCD' in LCD Soundsystem stands for

You know what the LCD in LCD Soundsystem stands for, right?

I was in Lidl shopping for lightbulbs and I bumped into James Murphy. Typically for him, he eschewed the customary trolley or basket, and he was clutching at least a dozen polar bear plush toys to his chest.

"What does LCD in LCD Soundsystem stand for?" I asked James.

James frowned. His reply was a bit muffled. He was struggling a bit with the polar bears and I think the fluff was tickling his nose. "Mffmmfff mfmfffff," said James Murphy.

"Pardon?" I said. "Loud Clashy Drums? Lairy Chorus Drawling? Lazer Computer Dance? Lawks, Calamitous Din? What did you say, James Murphy?"

He then said something else, but it could have been anything to be honest. I would have shifted one of the cuddly polar bears from his nostril, but I didn't want to drop my lightbulbs.

I punched past him to get to the front of the queue, and once I'd shouted at the cashier, unplugged the card machine for a laugh then scooped an out-of-date bus pass from the bin outside the front door, I'd almost forgotten about my chance encounter with James Murphy.

Almost.

"He probably said Lovely Compact Discs," I said to the bus driver as I tried to blur the expired bus ticket in front of his angry face.

Lovely Compact Discs. The LCD in LCD Soundsystem stands for 'Lovely Compact Discs'. You read it here first.

I've written a review of LCD Soundsystem's latest album 'American Dream', which may or may not be available on compact disc, for Electronic Sound. Here's the single 'tonite' you've probably already heard but probably should hear again.

The baron's back: Dave Clarke to return with The Desecration of Desire

John Peel called Dave Clarke the "baron of techno". Which probably makes me the jester of journalism. The butler of blogging. The scullery servant of scribbling about electronic music.

I first happened across Clarke with his Red recordings from the 1990s. His debut album 'Archive One' came in a red cardboard case with a perforated strip. I still remember tearing that strip. I do the same on washing detergent boxes, but the powder inside doesn't sound as good as techno.

Dave Clarke is back with his first full-length album since 2003. 'The Desecration of Desire' will be out next month on Skint Records. Yes, THAT Skint Records. The lead single 'Charcoal Eyes (Glass Tears)' a fairly functional stomp with a nice elastic bassline - listen below. There's a Terrance Fixmer remix that pumps up that bassline with some kind of industrial Viagra - worth desecrating your ears on that too.

Zombie'ites! Going underground with Transglobal and Banco De Gaia

I'm off to see Transglobal Underground at Band on the Wall tonight. Their 1993 album 'Dream Of 100 Nations' has always been a favourite: full of forthright pan-Afrasian techno, and a great introduction into the world of Nation Records, Natasha Atlas, Loop Guru and Dreadzone. Fusion techno that's as agitated as it is celebratory.

Below, I've plopped down some YouTube embeds for you to listen to, all taken from that album.

Banco De Gaia is DJing too: his 'Last Train To Lhasa' album is a modern ambient masterpiece that, thanks to dreamy samples, changed the way I heard choo-choo trains forever. The same way The Orb made fluffy clouds magical for evermore.

Put aside your chores - grouting the cat can wait. Listen to Banco De Gaia's Kincajou below.

So much of my blogging seems to look back to the 1990s, and this post is no different: but I'm proper looking forward to seeing this lot right now in 2017. The world needs their trippy madness more than ever before.

Fats at the Lowry: my last day at the Edinburgh Fringe

I probably should tie off these Edinburgh Fringe witterings with a nice big bow.

On the last day attending shows at the Fringe, I saw Sofie Hagen. She was really good, with plenty of warnings about the power of men in family units. I then popped off to see 'Parsley', which was by Michael Brunström and it was all about parsley. He even had someone making parsley sauce.

I decided to end my Fringe experience with Transit, a big ole circus performance with lots of people jumping about. You'd think I'd find no inspiration for my own show here, but even that had structure and audience interaction and oodles of light and shade. After 20 shows in three days (technically three days and four hours), I became an expert in picking apart the building blocks of the stuff I was seeing.

Performance elements I liked throughout my time in Edinburgh:

> Unpredictability. Brian Gittins's volatility on a double decker bus as he allowed the audience to almost ruin the show is something that will stay with me for a long time.

> Failure. It was okay if things went wrong. Some phone responses during Siri seemed to misfire, and the balloon-throwing finale at Tape Face missed a beat because the 'victim' didn't follow his instructions. Indeed, the circus performers made mistakes. Doesn't matter. The ideas still worked.

> Generosity. From John Luke Roberts' ramshackle props to Joe Morpurgo's frenzied hijacking of his audience, my favourite moments were when the performer seemed to give abundantly to the audience. The ideas and jokes came quickly.

And things that turned me off:

> Just watching. I was less keen on performances that seemed a static, in which we were only onlookers. It wasn't so bad, though, if there were interesting things to look at - or if the performer(s) was a powerhouse.

> Laziness. By this, I mean, ideas that weren't explored enough. Bolting a theme onto already-written routines, or ideas that didn't go far enough. Wasted opportunities. Not that there was much of this - overall, I'm very happy with the shows I chose to attend this year.

I've been back from Edinburgh for a couple of days. I've been in a bit of a comedown funk, which is probably natural. I've had the Will Smith single 'Wild Wild West' going around my head. Which, as I commented on a friend's Facebook feed, is a tragedy. This is the curse of Will Smith. Despite 'Men In Black', 'Summertime', 'Miami', 'Boom Shake The Room', Gettin' Jiggy Wit It' AND the Fresh Prince theme, his weakest hit 'Wild Wild West' will always be the one that sticks.

Poor guy.

This is the kind of thing I dwell on when I'm on a Fringe comedown.

This Edinburgh Fringe trip was an attempt to gain inspiration for my new show for The Lowry, which will premiere in May. Read more about all that here.

Fats at the Lowry: meeting a dog at the Edinburgh Fringe

I came to the Edinburgh Fringe to chug Windowlene and get inspired. And I'm fresh out of Windowlene.

Today got me fired up about my own show. I saw seven things and they were all great. Well. Sort of. Anyhoo, it led me to a conclusion about my planning process, which I shall share at the end of this blog post.

I caught a bunch of stand-up comedians. Tony Law was in typical free-wheeling mode with added shadow puppetry... which was also free-wheeling. With this being Tony, the puppetry didn't really need to lead anywhere. It was just fun to watch.

Speaking of not particularly leading anywhere, Simon Munnery's on form this year. 'Renegade Plumber' made me want to central heat my tent. I even got to meet his dog (pictured). Like me, Munnery has props, and he isn't afraid to furrow a particular niche thought, such as his long technical explanation about inventing a new water heater.

I caught Richard Gadd's show during which he runs. A lot. On a running machine. This was a frenetic, dizzying work with a solid emotional payoff. He got a standing ovation. The audio track must have been huge fun to work on - and hugely time consuming. I don't think I'll run in my own show. I'll be doing well if I even stay standing upright.

I've seen some amazing comedy this year, but Brian Gittins had me laughing the most. His show was on the BlundaBus, brought to the Fringe by quickly-expanding newcomer promoter Heroes. Brian was, in short, terrifying. Okay, we were packed in on the top floor of a double-decker bus, but this truly was close-up comedy. Volatile, awkward, and superbly silly.

If Brian Gittins isn't winning the big comedy awards, the system's knacked.

And now non-comedy stuff. I saw a show about Siri. I've never used Siri. Did everyone's phones become sentient? Not quite. Siri, a one-woman and one-digital assistant show, was a compelling tech nightmare that felt very real. Too real. She had two projection screens - one translucent, leading to a deeply sinister big-face moment.

I saw a mind-reading show, which was great fun, but I could have explained everything that happened in the room. Especially as I saw the mind-reader asking the audience questions before the show. "Your name's Sally Smith and you were born on 31st October." The audience goes "wooo". Yeah. He, in disguise, asked her. She was next to me in the queue. Pah.

Luke Wrights Frankie Vah was an accomplishment. Effectively, it's a one-hour poem disguised as theatre. The narrative was bound in 1980s left wing politics, with all the frustration, fire and fury that entailed. At one point he acted out someone performing at their first open mic night - whimpers of recognition from me.

What else? Puppetry, plumbing, running, bus, big-face, fakery and fire. I think that's it. Enough for one day.

I've had numerous thoughts about my own show today. I need to work harder. I need to be better. I need to match my game with all the amazing people I've seen. But most of all, I'm left with one over-riding thought:

There are no rules. I've seen naked Chaucer, a fake Q&A, a tape-faced man, a treadmill tragedy and I've thrown raisins into Brian Gittins' face. There are simply no rules. Just do what works for you.

I'd imagine that's Simon Munnery's dog's mantra for life too.

I've more Fringe to go, but I'm taking it easier today. I may catch one show. Maybe three. To be honest, I'm now desperate to return home and do show writing. Stay tuned.

(This blog post is dedicated to Domino, the wonderful woof-dog who is my boarding companion during my stay in Edinburgh. Hello, Domino, if you're reading.)