The Black Sheep

Photo below - Left > Right ---> Rock Steady, Daddy Longlegs, Red Phantome and Lamron (collectively the infamous Black Sheep) sit around planning the downfall of absolutely everything & everyone they don't like, which doesn't leave much room for anything else because they don't like very much, and they want to keep it that way thank you very muchmuch. Reformed in 2005 having not played together since 1982, nothing has really changed, except it now takes us a lot longer to get ourselves organised - gone are the days of communal living/playing/working, (our home-base is still in the old Quarantine Hospital in Rotterdam, an official squat in existence since 1980), now replaced by geographical separation & at last maybe a few other more interesting things to do. Working on a new album in fits & starts & getting the old (al) chemistry together has been successful to the extent that we neither repeated our original unrepeatable formula, or fell into cliches (apart from our own unique personal collection) - the death of creativity lords are still on holiday where we're coming from.
The only major problem we now have is a delicate affair of INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY.
Who are the REAL Black Sheep?
And can we prove it? (Because we know we are the black sheep). There are people out there who've stolen our identity & used it for their own nefarious purposes - total surrender or legal action remain our only demands. We have been using the name since 1980.
Watch this space.

Alien@T Ceremony

Ok.....screw logic, forget the hour, day, week.....don't believe everything you read, especially online. It's always time. I thought maybe a pre-emptive postscript xmas/new year strike would do the job......it almost worked last year, so...... nothing to lose this time except maybe what's left of my feverish imagination's wildest dreams, and they're pretty much knackered or at least on temporary hold these days.
But why can parties be so boring?
The people?
The excess?
The ritualistic nature of these semi-inherited archetypal tribal gatherings has become so predictable it baffles me let alone the experts - there I am drinking cups of tea while the booze/dope/wizz/coke/e-heads make out real kool all around me.......well I did smoke a load of weed myself, but 5am arrives and all the idiots have passed out or at least dissolved into the night, and I AM BUZZING dear friends......crystal clear cannabinoid clarity cutting straight through the arty farty tarty party not so hearty state of under-life's clouded vision, thinly (sometimes very thickly) disguised as hipness, one of the few truly inner qualities left once the fancy packaging is taken away for recycling.
Booked to jam some nu-jazz grooves with DJ crew The Illuminati, but the arty party dwellers want Michael Jackson, they don't want living breathing humans spoiling their fake fun suntan over-exposure; it's too real. Then I had to hang around until 9am to make my move out into the snow/sleet/icy bleakness, which gave me plenty of time to observe, notate, record, and un-dig the inner remnants and workings of the rapidly coming down last guests & (g)hosts, (although I have to say the main mein host was ok). Not a very pleasant job but someone has to do it & it is a job + a half & it is mass culture and we can only control it by not taking the external manifestations of the control bureau too seriously, or we blow our cover.
Alternatively........

FCUK / SCUX