Helen McCookerybook

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2010-03-05T23:54:00.001Z

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She's a Punk Rocker

2010-03-05T23:52:00.002Z

Last night's excursion to The Merchant's Hall in Islington was fun; Gina and Caroline were there, and we watched Zillah Ashworth's film, She's a Punk Rocker, sitting on a motley collection of old chairs. The sound wasn't up to much (strange speakers I suppose) and it was bloody freezing until Zillah's partner Sid fixed the enormous gas heater blaster thing which then roared like mad and made it even harder to hear, but the film looks great- it's really colourful and does the whole subject justice.
Afterwards, Ginger Baker's daughter Ginette read from her book. The microphone wasn't up to much either and in several people's opinion the reading went on for too long; one audience member told her afterwards that she had reduced punk to just fashion and f*cking which made it just the same as any other subculture. I think she had; but then I also think that it was the sort of subculture that had room for everybody.
That was the point.
So for her , if it was just about finding a sexy boyfriend and dressing up, that was OK.
Her Mum was great- she came and took the microphone afterwards and talked about her other daughter, who played guitar in Zillah's band, and who was constantly being asked by guys she was trying to be in a band with if she was 'foxy'. The Mum was incensed by this, and articulated her feelings very well. Gina wants to interview her for her documentary!
We met one of the artists; he told us that he painted the right hand side of the paintings and his partner painted the left side. What a great idea! He was rather pleased, as he was obviously a better painter than his partner; he let us discover this for ourselves, which I thought was very funny.
Rob Ayling, who runs Voiceprint (that's the label that releases my records) was sitting in front of us, much to my surprise; but he's distributing Zillah's film on Voiceprint and that's why he was there.
We talked about crying when cats get put down, which wasn't much of a business-like conversation, but the whole evening was slightly surreal, with a black labrador wandering around trying to get in the photos.
The chap sitting next to him was probably famous: as he left he said 'I've got to go, I'm producing Leonard Cohen's new album at the moment'. That is the sort of thing probably-famous people say, isn't it?
This is how I know I'm not; the thing I say is 'I've got to go, I haven't had any dinner yet and I've got last night's curry in the fridge'. If that changes, you will know I have crossed the divide and become a star.

The photographs are of Zillah and Ginette (and the paintings- you can see my fave of John Cooper Clarke and the budgie), and Gina sitting next to Gina, painted by the left-hand-side artist, which is why the painting looks like somebody else.
These screenings and talks are fun. Go if you get the chance.

Oh yes! I am supporting John Cooper Clarke and Don Letts in Hereford later this year! I am really excited. Years ago, Helen and the Horns supported John Cooper Clarke at Ronnie Scotts. I remember Molly Parkin pursuing him hotly, and, I think, rather a snog going on. The man is a genius, and put him next to Don Letts- that's a dream gig to see, let alone to play at.

Tortoise

2010-03-04T09:30:00.000Z

I had always wanted a tortoise, until later I found out that you have to keep them in a run that they can't see out of, and that seemed cruel to me.
Anyway, now I don't have so much as a blade of grass in the back yard.
But when the Offsprogs were little, I dreamed that I worked in the nursery part of a primary school, and they were giving away their tortoise.
How exciting! Of course I volunteered to take it, thinking how excited the Offsprogs would be.
Suddenly, in a moment of self- awareness, I realised that it was all just a dream.
'Aha', I said, 'This is all a dream and although I can even feel the scaly tortoise in my hands, as soon as I wake up, it will be gone and I will have no present to give to the Offsprogs'.
'Aha', said the dream back to me, 'This is a special sort of dream in which if you are given something to take away with you, it is actually real, and it's there when you wake up.'

So, of course, I believed the special dream; and so, of course, I woke empty-handed and sheepish with no tortoise to give to my little girls.

Mouse

2010-03-03T14:07:00.001Z

Couple of years ago, there was a terrible clattering commotion at the cat-flap in our kitchen door.
Alarmed, I stood up from where I had been working at the kitchen table, and went to have a look.
Enter the Whippersnapper, triumphantly bringing his booty home for his family: a dead mouse... complete with the whole mousetrap that had deaded it.

Goodbye, Whippersnapper

2010-03-02T19:31:00.002Z

On Being Sarah Cox

2010-03-01T15:21:00.000Z

Out in the yard, helplessly moving plant pots around like blank chess pieces, I overheard Radio One.

It's being listened to by the adjacent builders.

How can this be?

Sarah Cox, standing in for Fearne Cotton, teases the (male) listeners with constant references to breasts, as though she is a man herself, and a misogynist one at that.

She must be utterly desperate to be one of the lads: I have never heard such pleading to not be a woman in my life.

She interviews someone called Davina (could it be McCall? I hope not! Surely she has more sense!). Davina is riding a bicycle for Sports Relief and, over and over again, tells us how sweaty she is in her lycra gear. This seems infinitely more important to her than raising money for a charity; did she work out this priority for herself or did the producers of the show persuade her to demean herself in this way?

And the BBC is axing BBC 6, the station that plays proper music to proper listeners.

That's what happens in a recession, isn't it? The tw*ts return from the wings, triumphantly brushing aside any sort of social progress, and if you don't go with their flow you get stuck in a backwater and labelled boring and worst of all, 'a feminist'.

Well, a 'Sarah Cox' is not a good thing to be, is it?

Two Interesting Articles

2010-03-01T12:34:00.000Z

Cazz Blaise's article in the f-word on women and punk: the intro http://www.thefword.org.uk/features/2010/02/women_in_punk_t
Caroline Coon blogging about images of women musicians on British stamps http://carolinecoon.com/news.htm

I Am Sad

2010-02-28T17:48:00.000Z

In the matter of a couple of days, Offsprog 2 has not only shaken hands with Johnny Depp (he's already married, Offsprog 2, you can't have him) and gone to the Tory Party Conference (they are not allowed to heckle and have told they will be removed from the building if they do).
Meanwhile, I have spent this afternoon in distraction therapy, recording a new version of On New Year's Eve which is up on Myspace.
Myspace is annoying me at the moment: they have tried so hard to be Facebook and forgotten that they are THE musician's site and it's how most of us make network and contact each other. It's how I met Martin too!
But both me and Katy have noticed that our song counters jam and don't count after a couple of hours. She thinks its because they have to pay royalties and don't want to. But I have never received a royalty from Myspace; I just think they are so busy adding games, apps and other silly Facebook-a-likes that they have lost the plot.
Bit like me really.
I can't settle: Whippersnapper is not doing too well and I am dreading losing another little familiar.
Us white witches need our magical furry friends to sing to and laugh at.
I have even forgiven him for eating a huge irreparable hole in the back of my favourite jacket when I got back from Scotland last Monday.
I'm wandering round the house waiting for this evening's call from the vet; like policemen they get younger every day and sympathy from a young woman barely out of her teens is poignant in its authenticity.
I am sad.

Delta 5 and The Au Pairs

2010-02-27T17:57:00.002Z

If anyone knows the whereabouts of Jane or Lesley from the Au Pairs, and/or any of Delta 5, please can you contact me at helen_mccookerybook@yahoo.co.uk

Not Slumping This Saturday

2010-02-27T12:23:00.000Z

Oh, not this Saturday!
I lost yesterday afternoon entirely, as Whippersnapper is terribly ill and has had to go back to the vets. The cure for pancreatitis is to starve the cat, and the cure for diabetes is to feed it. Somewhere between, I hope he will get well.

So today- well, I am preparing a mega-budget for an archive of women's music and memories, in conjunction with Debi Withers, and that is going to take up a lot of today.
Meanwhile, I have been colour-coding the clothes on the clothes rail, which has been amazingly therapeutic. I have no room for a wardrobe, and have to keep clothes acquisition to the minimum as a result. But sorting through what I have results in new combinations and almost feels like buying new clothes. The chest of drawers that wouldn't go up the stairs in this mini-house is going into storage next week and I have to find somewhere to put six pairs of denim jeans and a selection of vintage woollens. Hmm.
Offsprog Two is hovering, or should that be hoovering, but I've just been in her room and observed her habit of storing clothes everywhere but her cupboard, so she's on a hiding to nothing today.

I have started to read Zoe Street Howe's book on the Slits, Typical Girls, and it's providing a lot of food for thought- the cosmopolitan make-up of those early punk bands, for instance, and the surprisingly manipulative Joe Strummer. I read Marion Leonard's book Gender and the Music Industry last week and was particularly taken by the way the Spice Girls reverted Girl Power to the woman's right to choose her make-up and shoes!

Later, I have a super plan. Gina sent me a link to a yodelling video, and I will begin today. I am certain that the meaning of life, or one of them anyway, is stored in the ability to yodel. I may not make the Tyrolean Yodelling Championships, but hope to edge a micro- millimetre closer to being able to mimic Dolly Parton!

Artyfartle

2010-02-26T15:14:00.005Z

It was a cold and rainy February night; I left the maps at home by accident (the resident artist pulled out at the last minute and I wanted to paper the walls with maps) and the felt pens (for drawing on the paper tablecloths); the home made raspberry muffins got distracted by an animals-on-holiday fancy dress party in Brighton, but there we were in the end: Martin Stephenson, Viv Albertine, Acton Bell, Katy Carr, Gina Birch and me, with a select audience and a row of stools on the stage.
We played three sets consisting of a song each, sitting in a row and mixing our songs; we all made the occasional mistake, because these were new songs, but that was OK because this was Club Artyfartle, for people to feel comfortable playing and showing new stuff.
Martin started off, playing his positive and happy songs, and Acton Bell followed on, with a Beatles song she'd heard on the radio in her dream and then realised when she woke that she had made it up herself; then Viv sang a trio of spiky and sharp songs, playing some mean guitar licks and adding a rock slant into the proceedings. I was next, singing Britishly pickin' stuff, and Katy followed, sounding European and mysterious, her strong voice reaching to the corners of the room. She left early, as she had to rise at 4 a.m. to go to Poland.
It wonderful to sit there surrounded by different styles of music, feeling the different emotions of each different performer. Hats off to the song writers for going along with the unusual format and being brave enough to mix it up and go for it: and to the audience for enjoying it all and being so warm!
Moment of the night was Gina's presentation on Birchbags, her boiled wool bag project. She was concise and funny (especially the bag with the red cross on it 'for emergencies'), unpacking bag from within bag, giving Mary Poppins a run for her money and keeping the audience mesmerised.
Diana heckled goodnaturedly from the door, Sandie (aka Foolish Girl) and Val Phoenix took photos, and my Champagne Friend turned up; it was a success, I think.
I have much to learn: a mailing list consisting almost entirely of song writers is not good for populating a club. Of course, a proportion of them are unlikely to come either because they have other gigs on, or they are grumpy about not being asked to perform. I also shouldn't be so secretive about who's playing; I could have at least listed some of the performers. And another time, I will make damn sure I have a poet and an artist.
But generally, I was delighted, so much so that I didn't sleep a wink last night thinking about it. It was a massive privilege being in such company and great fun to mix such styles; the person-pod was on shuffle.
Where and when else do you get to hear such varied and interesting songwriters playing together?
If you didn't make it, check out:
www.myspace.com/martinstephenson
www.myspace.com/albertine
www.myspace.com/katycarrmusic
www.myspace.com/actonbelle
www.myspace.com/helenmccookerybook
and www.theraincoats.net
I have Viv Albertine's new CD and I will review it later this weekend.

Artyfartle Review Tomorrow

2010-02-25T09:15:00.000Z

Reviewing tomorrow: Club Artyfartle featuring (cast in order of performance) Acton Bell, Martin Stephenson, Acton Bell, Viv Albertine, Katy Carr, Gina Birch, and me.
working to day, giggging tonight (The World's End, Finsbury Park, onstage 9.15)

Bird Thought For The Day

2010-02-23T12:38:00.001Z

Shoulda stayed in Africa.

I Don't See This Out Of My Window Any More

2010-02-20T16:12:00.000Z

Saturday Slumping

2010-02-20T16:08:00.001Z

Sometimes you have a day that doesn't map out the way you expected it to.
The morning took an age to rev up; I'd been hoping to rove darn sarf to see a friend but realised that I hadn't made the hearty stew I was planning to make for McMum (I'm going to visit her tomorrow as she's broken her arm), and I was also planning to go to the ICA to hear a colleague's talk on Arthur Russell, the king of disco.
But a visit to the ICA website told me that the tickets were too costly for a woman of my meagre means, so I'm going there in my imagination instead, and I'm visiting my pal by phone later on.
Meanwhile, the stew's been bubbling for a while, and Whippersnapper is delighted as he can soak up my body warmth for a little longer. I think he is a snake or a lizard covered in fur and pretending to be a cat, actually.
Club Artyfartle is bowling along; I bought the paper tablecloths for the audience to doodle on (the idea was to exhibit them next time around). The line-up is myself, Katy Carr, Martin Stephenson, Acton Bell and one more who wishes to do it privately, all playing brand new songs. Gina Birch will be showing the banners she has sewn for a film project, and I am hoping to have a poetry reading too.

Martin's going to start a club in Gosforth called Club Tornado and he's asked me to design a poster for it.
He's made a very funny film starring himself, his mate Davey Cowan, assorted people who called round while they were filming it (the electricity man and the postman) and my lovely red BSA Bantam, out in the fresh air for the day. The film is made by Ali Macleod, and you can see it at www.youtube.com/watch?v=7szKudU00f4

We Love 77: Punk Paintings

2010-02-19T21:56:00.003Z

The artists Sardine and Tobleroni have painted 77 paintings of punk rock musicians, and tonight was the opening night at The Merchant's Hall, a pop-up gallery at 46 Essex Road in Islington (open 12-6 each day).

I think I expected something quite small, but the gallery is huge, battered and cavernous, and was full of people who had obviously made a huge effort to look good, and other people photographing and filming them.
At one point I came face to face with Johnny Rotten, or it could have been his twin brother. Actually, there was quite a buzz in the air, helped by the fact that the wonderful Don Letts was DJ for the night. I was desperate to dance as he spun all the best of late 70s reggae, Toots and the Maytals and lots of other good stuff that I recognised but couldn't name. My toes were twitching but the cool crowd locked my knees with their 1977 stares.
Gaye Advert was there and we had a chat; she's an artist herself as well as featuring in one of the paintings and she recommended another exhibition which I want to go and see (Andreas von Chrzanowski at the Case Gallery in Curtain Road) and Poly Styrene came up to talk to her. She asked me how the book was doing and I told her that I am talking to someone about bringing out a paperback with some more interviews and asked if she would like to be interviewed and she said yes, so that is good news. Both women are very friendly and don't have the 'I'm famous, don't touch me' attitude that the people who aren't famous have.
I have the right to look for a publisher now for the paperback version; I want to try to interview the Au Pairs and Delta 5 as well as the Marine Girls and Shanne from the Nips, and Kate Korris. I loved doing the interviews for the hardback, it was easily the best part of it all and it would be great to carry on.
Anyway- the paintings. The best ones were The Nipple Erectors (they were selling cocktails of that name!) with a very funny rendition of Shane McGowan with Shanne standing behind him; and one of John Cooper Clarke standing next to a giant budgie exactly the same size as him. The budgie looks affronted, and John Cooper Clarke cowers in fear beside it.
Poly was doing a talk later to introduce a film of X-Ray Spex at the Roundhouse in 2008 but I had to leave to give Whippersnapper his insulin. It was an unexpectedly lively evening, full of what I took to be punk rockers' offspring selling programmes and things like that. There were some very well dressed people (see the shoes above) and I wished I'd got into my finery. I recognised loads of people but wasn't sure why, whether it was because I knew them from back then, or because they were (anti)stars of punktimes.
It was nice to be among people my age who could have given some flashy teenage snappy dressers a run for their money: all is not lost, I thought, until I realised how dowdy I looked in comparison. The hiking boots were a mistake, perhaps!
The exhibition was organised by WW Gallery www.wilsonwilliamsgallery.com, and there are screenings until the end of March. Watch out in particular for She's a Punk Rocker UK, by Zillah Minx, on Thursday 4th March at 6.45.

Daydream

2010-02-19T11:30:00.000Z

I am fantasising about a holiday.
My face is the greyish colour and texture of a used dishcloth, and my body feels like the shape of Humpty Dumpty so I daren't look in the mirror to check if' that's so or not.
I am sleepy, because I have to get up and give Whippersnapper his insulin injection early in the morning and once I've done that it's too late to go back to bed.
I just keep thinking about those holiday postcards from hot countries- one big stripe of bright blue across the top, joining a big stripe of bright yellow across the bottom.
Sand and sea
And me.

Gotta Have a Heart

2010-02-18T21:52:00.000Z

Gotta Have a Heart

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm

Won't you come a-long with me I will show you something new

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

Won't you come a-long with me I have made it just for you

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm

You put two things to-gether to make a missing link com-plete

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

You put two things to-gether to make a plan that you just can't beat

Dm G7 Cmaj7

Cos you got a soul with-out a heart

Dm G7 Cmaj7

You got a soul with-out a heart

Am Dm G7 Cmaj7

You may be big but you ain't smart

G7 Cmaj7

You gotta have a heart.

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm

You've been living life doing only half of what you could do

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

You've been living life without a key, with-out a clue

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm

I can open doors for you now to show you a different way

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

I can open doors for you now to shine a light on a brand new day

Dm G7 Cmaj7

Cos you got a soul with-out a heart

Dm G7 Cmaj7

You got a soul with-out a heart

Am Dm G7 Cmaj7

You may be big but you ain't smart

G7 Cmaj7

You gotta have a heart.

Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Cmaj7 Bbmaj7

You gotta have a he-aaaart

Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Cmaj7 Bbmaj7

You gotta have a he-aaaart

Cmaj7

Gotta have a heart

Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Cmaj7 Ebmaj7

Doo doo,do do, Doo doo do do, Doo doo do do, Doo doo do do

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Cmaj7

Put your faith in me and I'll put my hope in you

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

Put your faith in me and we'll see just what our love can do

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm

Only two in-gredients make a perfect reci-pe

Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7 Gm Cmaj7

Put your heart and soul into it baby and we'll live in harmo-ny

Dm G7 Cmaj7

Cos you got a soul with-out a heart

Dm G7 Cmaj7

You got a soul with-out a heart

Am Dm G7 Cmaj7

You may be big but you ain't smart

G7 Cmaj7

You gotta have a heart.

Dm G7 Cmaj7

Cos you got a soul with-out a heart

Dm G7 Cmaj7

You got a soul with-out a heart

Am Dm G7 Cmaj7

You may be big but you ain't smart

G7 Cmaj7

You gotta have a heart.

Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Cmaj7 Bbmaj7

You gotta have a he-aaaart

Cmaj7 Bbmaj7 Cmaj7 Bbmaj7

You gotta have a he-aaaart

Cmaj7

Gotta have a heart

Song at www.myspace.com/helenmccookerybook

Club Artyfartle

2010-02-17T22:47:00.000Z

About the club- I have arranged for four song writers to perform- it's not an open mike night! There has been some confusion and I'm sorry for that. I am not a promoter, it's more of a club party kind of thing.

Vase

2010-02-17T22:45:00.000Z

I'm selling the stuff I didn't get round to selling before I moved; we have been tripping over it all for a couple of months and I can't get to the cupboard under the stairs. This vase was due to go, and then I photographed it and it looked lovely. It reminds me of mermaids and Botticelli's Venus and has changed my mind by being photogenic. From now on I shall specialise in only selling exceptionally hideous items on eBay, providing they are useful, of course.
(it's not the only thing I photographed tonight that looked nice and changed my mind!)
I have put some different music up on www.myspace.com/helenmccookerybook

Hat

2010-02-17T17:57:00.000Z

Painstakingly, I cut and fitted sections of soft black leather to my head, taking days to sew the shapes together to make a hat that fitted tightly over my hair.
On holiday in Scotland that year, I sought out two cow horns, which I sawed and polished to a fine shine.
I was making a horned helmet, like a female viking might wear. Every 34-year-old woman needs one of those, or so I thought.
I was excitedly telling one of my best friends about it; it was almost finished.
Her big and drunken husband was listening in.
'That's a bloody stupid idea', he sneered. 'When ya gonna wear that? Everyone will laugh at ya.'
I hadn't even thought about that.
So it never got finished, and never got worn.
But Gina has invited me to do a song when the Gluts play at Cafe Oto in March, and I think the leather hat (alas, the horns were thrown out when I moved) is in the boot of my car with the screen was and the Just William story cassettes.
Gonna wear it then innit?

Merrill Garbus

2010-02-16T20:16:00.001Z

I'm sitting here lipreading East Enders, always best with the sound turned down. I'm rather tired, but that's OK: I had a late night last night and a full and busy day at work today.
I went to Cargo last night to see Merrill Garbus (the Tuneyards). She has just been signed to 4AD by an ex-student of mine, Jane Abernethy. It is her first proper signing and by the size and enthusiasm of the crowd Jane definitely made a good decision; Jane is a fan of all kinds of music, from Ivor Cutler to Larkin Grimm, and is a very talented songwriter in her own right, which means she knows what's going on in musicworld.
Some years ago, Jane played the singer/songwriter circuit in London (and even toured America squashed into a little car with four other people doing house concerts) under the name Hazey Jane, until a band called The Hazey Janes told her she couldn't be called that any more. Fancy having your identitiy abolished!
Anyway, that's enough rambling and dribbling...
Merrill has an incredible voice which sounds like Jimi Hendrix's guitar in its scope: it's husky one minute and sharp the next, and she can yodel (oh I'm so jealous!!!). At one point an eat-your-heart-out Minnie Riperton high was greeted with a ripple of applause from the crowd.
She plays a tenor ukelele, making it sound like a fuzz guitar, except when she's a finger-pickin' it like a banjo, when it sounds like a banjo. She plays a drum, standing square-on and looking like a drum majorette without the uniform. It's not smartass New York rock, but it is art-rockish, except she herself is a warm-hearted and natural performer with an authentic belief in what she is doing. She's accompanied by a stylishly geeky bass player, who supports her and never upstages her.
The B52s? the Young Marble Giants? It was fun, she's lovely.
On the way home by tube I spotted a poster for the film Micmacs.
'A dazzling entertainment machine', said Le Monde in their review.
That's exactly what I thought of Merrill Garbus!
www.myspace.com/tuneyards

2010-02-15T17:00:00.003Z

Dad, I am remembering you today.

Doodlebug Alley by Jude Cowan

2010-02-15T16:27:00.000Z

Jude's voice wisps out of her music with the natural airiness of an Aeolian harp, suddenly gripping you with a lewd lyric or shocking you with a wry little aside. Her voice is beautiful, at times using its eastern-sounding flexiblity to take you right out of Blighty on a cold February afternoon.
She accompanies herself with spiky mandolin punctuation, a sparse nod in the direction of music hall, and often delivers the melodies of her songs as poetry rather than using the moon'n'june template that so many songwriters grasp in desperation.
There is a lot of anger in her tales; they are the aural equivalent of Paula Rego's dark etchings; and tales they are, Scandinavian-flavoured fairy tales which have no happy endings and no reassuring musical outcomes, short stories in song.
At times, a distant piano echoes Erik Satie. It reminds me of being terrified by Albert and the Lion as a child: not by the horrid story, but by the frighteningly ancient woman I imagined in an adjoining room who was playing sinister piano stabs so quietly in time with Stanley Holloway's grunting delivery.
Jude's music is very English. It holds all those secondary-school history and English Literature lessons in an icy grip, smacking the dull and pedantic teachers across their smug faces with a sharp and naturally intelligent hand. What perfect revenge on the cruel and restricting world!
The child in Jude triumphs over the sticky treacle of rules and regulations, and she soars off with the dragonflies to crackle in the clouds, a lightning streak of perception and fragility.
It is a delightful album: check her out on www.myspace.com/judecowan

Helen & the Horns Footsteps Video by Foolish Girl - MySpace Video

2010-02-15T14:53:00.000Z

Helen & the Horns Footsteps Video by Foolish Girl - MySpace Video