Different Trains

I just returned from a two-day business trip to Germany, where I always feel compelled to listen to Kraftwerk or "Krautrock" if I have occasion to ride a train. I know that's a painfully embarrassing cliche, but judging from taxi rides I've taken, and the muzak in the hotel I tend to stay in, it seems like the locals prefer 80's rock anthems and the theme from "Dirty Dancing," so I'm happy to let them have their Germany while I keep my own private version to myself. Anyway, I like the incongruity of this mash-up, and the scenes along the railway leaving Victoria are still eerily familiar after all these years.

And now, our Saturday night feature: Carnival of Souls

Intermission - time for a tasty snack

Rupert Murdoch knows about my secret moustache (and its debauchery)

I recently had the good fortune to stumble across this refreshingly insane Glaswegian trio, and I've been having a hard time keeping some of their songs out of my head ever since. This is one, and for the non-British readership, here is the background on the subject matter, if you're interested.

Driveway to Hell

So there I was thinking that my hood, East Dulwich, was on the sleepy side and lacking in serious rock-n-roll credentials. Imagine my surprise when I learned a couple of days ago that just two streets away from my humble hovel lies the site where rock legend Bon Scott was found dead in a Renault 5 on February 20, 1980.



The records say that he was found outside No. 67. This is a photo of 67A, which is nicer to look at than 67, but if you insist, check out the surrounding area, with the gargantuan and hideous Dawson's Heights Estate opposite. Surely Bon was not the first, nor the last, to find a dead end on this street.


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I was surprised to find no signs of any fan presence here, though it apparently does attract the odd visitor...



Premature rock deaths often seem to be accompanied by some sort of cruel irony. In this case, Bon Scott died at the tender age of 33, on Overhill Road. It was a long way to the top of Dawson's Hill.

Brian and Dick

Props to virtual friend Watson Smith who alerted me to the existence of this gem. Brian Eno interviewed by "Dick Flash" of "Pork Magazine," who looks and sounds suspiciously like Brian Eno with a wig and glasses, and possibly some voice manipulation. The idiot-interviewer-meets-hyperarticulate-artist formula inverted. This is one of the funniest things I have seen in some time.

Scenes from London life