Tuesday, 6 December 2011

Soundsphere's Tunes of the Year 2011


We pick our favourite tracks and vids here:

http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
http://www.soundspheremag.com/news/94-features/2975-soundspheremagcoms-best-tracks-of-2011

Come tell us how wrong we are and make fun of my uber cheesy choice : )

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Indigo Rising UK - Issue 1 available now



The first issue of our brand new baby - Indigo Rising UK is now available for free download, including work from me, Steve Toase, Oz Hardwick, Miles Cain, Daniela Nunnari, David Clegg, Jem Henderson as well a host of others. Hope you enjoy the pieces we've selected.

Find it here:
http://indigorisinguk.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/issue-1.pdf
Happy reading, and send us your own work : )

Friday, 16 September 2011

Poems, Prose and Pints @ The Tap and Spile Harrogate


A lovely regular event, which I've been lucky enough to be the featured artist at.

This month (Weds Sept 21st) the annoyingly talented Steve Toase will be spilling his literary beans.

Give it a try - you won't be disappointed.

Tuesday, 5 July 2011

Soundsphere Magazine - Issue 2



"So, we enjoyed great success with issue one and had some fantastic feedback from working inside of that alternative and gothic music niche (the magazine featured Placebo and Paradise Lost, for example). Despite that, and because of it, we've moved our concept forward significantly with the new issue (due out mid-July, 2011) and have gone in a much wider direction after having the opportunity to interview some amazing bands and artists from across the great genre spectrum (thanks to all of the people who've helped us, of course - you know who you are). So, we are now covering indie, rock, metal, electronic music AND some cultural stuff too.



The bands we are dealing with in issue two include: Pendulum, Enter Shikari, Killing Joke, The Pigeon Detectives, Frank Turner, Hyro Da Hero, My Passion, Dinosaur Pile-Up, Japanese Voyeurs, Patrick Wolf, Patrick Stump (of Fall Out Boy) and Skindred. We chat to each of these world-beating acts and get the lowdown on their latest albums and up-to-date plans.



We're also promoting a lot more great local talent from in and around Yorkshire including interviews with up-and-coming Leeds electronic rockers Officers and alt-indie band Hungry Ghostsalongside informative features on York-based cultural hotspot Bang Hair Studios, audio-only iPhone app pioneers Punk Pie, Derby's rockabilly-styled fashion outlet Miss Fortune, Sheffield's Corporation and Hull's premier tattoo artist Mat Lapping (of Creative Vandals). There's also a cool competition to win some clothes from our awesome friends at US alt-electronic label FiXT Music and a label spotlight on independent industrial label Armalyte Industries alongside the usual CD reviews and listings. Phew!" - Dom Smith (editor)



The price of this magazine is £2.50 (including postage and packaging).



Order a copy below!
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http://www.soundspheremag.com/news/48/2190


We're also stocked at the following places...
In-store
Heaven Forbid (York) Tokyo Royale (Manchester) Resurrection Records (London)
Online
Trash Vogue Records (UK) Music Non Stop (UK) FiXT Music (US)

Wednesday, 25 May 2011

The Hades Tanka - Written for the Rise Japan fundraiser at York St John University



1. Persephone

From hotel windows
peer down past the hissing gold
and falling flame of
midnight streets to find the door
to the underworld ajar.

Night revellers stumble
through corridors hearing my
fateful song. All for
one sweet pomegranate seed
I married myself to Hell.

Forgetfulness chair
beckons each bitter winter,
but for the sight of
a ladybird ascending,
link by link, a young girls watch.

2. Orpheus

A wide green river
its bed as deep as an ache.
A head – no body –
drifts by, its ferry a lyre,
it’s mouth humming baleful songs.

I faltered away
from here, the brightly lit air
that lapped at my voice,
through the black, worm-eaten ground
to you my whirling exile.

A black labyrinth
entered, I startled ghost roads.
One descending soul
through the madness of music
to lose you a second time.

3. Eurydice

Butterflies of ash
break away in my numb palm.
The shades hiss despair,
their limits porous as web.
Smoke rises from them like wings.

I dreamt an angel
holding the name of shadow.
I forget his songs.
My memory now burned of
the ability to dream.

His hand grips my wrist,
my angel breasting the void,
entwined in passage.
But, he faltered and I was
betrayed to the emptiness.

Friday, 20 May 2011

Open Wide tenth anniversary print edition - out now


This glossy paperback is filled with ninety-four pages of writing from forty-three of our favourite contributors of the last ten years.

Featuring poetry from: Rebecca Schumejda, William Taylor Jr, John Dorsey, F.N. Wright, J.J. Campbell, Adrian Manning, Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, Dan Provost, John Sweet, Nathan Graziano, Idris Caffery, G. Emil Reutter, Bradley Mason Hamlin, A.D. Winans, Iris Berry, Jayne Lyn Stahl, Graham Nunn, D.B. Cox, R.C. Edrington, Lyn Lifshin, Jack Phillips Lowe, K.M. Dersley, S.A. Griffin, Jason Mashak, Arlene Ang, Debbie Kirk, justin.barrett, Heidi James, James D. Quinton, Owen Roberts, Peter Finch, Steve Urwin, Ben Barton, John G. Hall, Jessica Stilling and Glenn W. Cooper.



And fiction from: Ben Myers, Drew Gummerson, James D. Quinton, Marc Barber, Angela Morkos, Jo Mortimer, Natalia Cherjovsky and Danny Rhodes.

Thursday, 14 April 2011

The King of Nab Hill (a stanza stones poem)

'Every time I think that I'm getting old,
and gradually going to the grave,
something else happens'
(Elvis Presley)

There being a limit to the places
a supposed-to-be dead King of rock and roll
can visit, the grey-squirrel quiffed old man
slows the conspicuous pink caddie
to a purr by the beckoning stile.

A fumble of arthritic fingers
and walking frame, shades donned, trademark point
salute delivered to the aged stranger
in the wing mirror and the obscure
mission can commence its shuffling passage.

A laboured groping and the stile
(his latest groupie) is straddled, conquered,
blue suedes settle on the soft sponge of peet.
Immigrant at the threshold of green dusk
looks up, past the grass twitching with laughter,

to the crest sprinkled with turbines - sentinels
perpetually rolling their white, blind eyes.
A struggle up the brittle bracken, left hand
shaking, pelvis no longer under control,
greens and browns underfoot in cataract

permutation - an unreadable hieroglyph.
The journey seems as long as a Vegas bar tab
but the crown welcomes with the adulation
of a crowd of curlews. Wind pushes
with the virulence of an ex-wife
falsifying his hair into a fin.

Pulled deeper into the stiff rhinestoned collar
a shimmy stuttered to the shelter
of a half –fallen cairn, the weary frame
is lowered onto the sun-bleached lychen.
Hunger is found in the empty pupil

of a lone sheep, for this figure who charmed
everything except the vast nocturnal.
No longer a king, a prince, or a knave
but a child blinking myopically into
the emptiness of wild sounds
from the limitless hilltop.

Sunday, 20 March 2011