"Any kind of popular trend is infinitely more wholesome than listening to old records. It's more important that people know that some kind of pleasure can be derived from things that are around them - rather than to catalogue more stuff - you can do that forever"- HARRY SMITH
........................"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may / Old Time is still a-flying / And this same flower that smiles today/Tomorrow will be dying"-ROBERT HERRICK
In the new edition of The Wire, I have an extended essay-review about the career-closing releases from The Caretaker and Mordant Music: the sixth and final installment of James Kirby's gargantuan Everywhere at the end of Time project, which started three years ago, and Baron Mordant's last blast, Mark of the Mould. The latter is an unmissable emission - like eMMplekz if the Baron handled the backing tracks as well as the verbals... the latter proving once again that Ian Hicks is simultaneously the Robert Macfarlane of built-up Britain and the Chris Morris of BoomkatKultur.
Also ruffling the parish this month - and making this newsletter a tale of two Ians - is the announcement of an unexpected, non-wintertime release from Moon Wiring Club aka Ian Hodgson.
Ghastly Garden Centres is a timely swerve from the ambient-amorphous direction of recent MWC releases and a jaunty step into brisk concision. In fact, the guiding concept here is that every track is a single - making the assemblage perhaps a Now! style compilation of hits, or a chart countdown. It's MWC - so it's still creepy and manky - but it's also catchy and bouncy.
As for the ghostly-ghastly gardening theme - well, apparently this is a real thing, a subject of internet obsession: abandoned, overgrown plant nurseries and derelict garden centres.
Further raising the pulse of parishioners is the parallel release of Catmask, a collection - styled as issue no. 1 of a glossy magazine - that pulls together Ian Hodgson's artwork: some already released, on the records or at the Blank Workshop website, but much unfamiliar and never seen. There are images from Ian's abandoned children's book project, for instance, which if I recall correctly, was the acorn from which grew the mighty oak of Clinkskell and the 21 - or 23, depending on how you count - releases to date, including collaborations and side projects.
Catmask is a gorgeous slinky looking and feeling object to peruse and fondle. It completes the sense of Moon Wiring Club as a project of.... I won't say, world-building, as that's a cliche now... but place-making, maybe.
UK customers can buy Ghastly Garden Centres and Catmaskhere
European customers can buy Ghastly Garden Centres and Catmaskhere
Rest of world customers can buy Ghastly Garden Centres and Catmaskhere
I'm off on a brisk traipse across Europe - to chat about hauntology and ArchivFieber in Barcelona and Berlin respectively. . BARCELONA - FRIDAY MARCH 22 Sons de la memòria, El Born Centre de Cultura i Memòri
18.30 hrs - Conversation about hauntology with Arnau Horta
More information about Sons de la memòria events, including a live performance by Philip Jeck and Janek Schaeffer on March 23.
Anybody seen this? Any cop? At Pop Matters, John A. Riley writes:
"Arcadia compiles footage from the British Film Institute's sprawling national archive to create an impressionistic collage film about rural Britain... "... Paul Wright's film is primed to be received in the context of two related phenomena: Hauntology and Folk Horror. Both represent new ways of thinking about our relationship to time and place, and of finding the sinister within the everyday, the former by emphasizing repressed pasts and failed futures, the latter by emphasizing sinister textures and themes lurking below the surface of Britain's rural communities. However, it may be equally if not more helpful to think of Arcadia as a sculpture done in paracinema: countless hours of public service announcements, promotional and instructional videos, and amateur-shot footage, are here given an unruly second lease of life.... "... a dizzying assemblage of bucolic, folkloric footage; maypole dancing and sundry village festivities that wouldn't look out of place in The Wicker Man, harvesting crops, hunting, bucolic landscapes. Occasionally footage from a well-known narrative film, such as an unmistakable glimpse of Helen Mirren from Herostratus, is thrown into the mix.... ".... The film doesn't present the archive footage chronologically, which means that a variety of formats, from badly damaged silent-era film to pristine 35mm, to home formats such as VHS and Super 8, all brush up against each other to dizzying, sometimes foreboding effect. The film works by associating, linking things in a montage chain that, in one example, goes from the pageantry of traditional village celebrations such as Morris dancing and 'Obby 'Oss festivals, to the '60s counterculture, exemplified by a patronizingly interviewed hippy who says he celebrates love "by doing psychedelic freakouts every now and again" to more recent times, through images of the kind of barnyard raves beloved by the '80s/'90s rave generation, as the soundtrack works itself up into a relentless pulse.... " Arcadia is a frequently fascinating, often unsettling look at traditions and places that can often feel like they are vanishing before our eyes."
Feel both allured and also faintly fatigued by the prospect - like this really should be the absolute last word on terrain that is well ploughed by this point... - perhaps even whatever comes after the last word....
Riley also praises the score by Portishead's Adrian Utley and Goldfrapp's Will Gregory....
"The eclectic score, at times evoking Debussy, at other times sounding like '90s lounge music revival (not surprising given its composers), and at one point breaking out into an ominously-tinged '70s bovver rock stomp, is worthy of serious standalone consideration..."
Anything even slightly connected to the stench of Goldfrapp I'm a bit sceptical about....
The big news in the parish is the publication this week of A Year in The Country: Wandering Through Spectral Fields by Stephen Prince of A Year In The Country the blog and the label. Sub-subtitled "Journeys in Otherly Pastoralism, the Further Reaches of Folk and the Parallel Worlds of Hauntology", it's an excellent compendium of Prince's musings and meditations on all things wyrdly bucolic, uncanny, and elegiac, spanning a spectral spectrum from Richard Mabey to Zardoz, Virginia Astley to Sapphire & Steel. With the possible exception of Mark F's Ghosts of My Life, it's the first tome fully dedicated to all things hauntological (as opposed to various volumes about "folk horror" or 70s kids teevee)
You can buy it here, and here - and if you must (although then again, it's effectively funding righteous scourge The Washington Post, so why not?) here (UK) and here (US) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ In other parish goings-on, I have already mentioned the delightful debut album for Ghost Box from Portugal's Beautify Junkyards - The Invisible World of...
Fairly imminently there will be another fine album by The Advisory Circle - Ways of Seeing, out late May.
Through his own imprintCafe Kaput, Circle chief Jon Brooks also recently put out this album Neil Grant of Lo-Five - whose album When It's Time To Let Gofor Patterned Air Recordings pleasured me last year - has set up a collective of Liverpool-based experimental electronic musicians under the rubric Emotion Wave. Here's Neil's project rationale . Emotional Wave has some musical output already under its collective belt and I believe there is a non-audio entity (printed matter) in the pipeline. And in a week or so Neil releases the Lo-Five miscellany Propagate - remixes, compilation tracks and one-off specials. Neil also alerts me to his having put out a little while back some "super lo fi house tracks" under the title My House Is Your House Volume One. Like Propagate, it's a tide-you-over / palate cleanser type release before the follow-up to When It's Time To Let Go. Love the graphic echo of Human League's "Being Boiled" single sleeve there. (Neil informs me that this was actually unintended - he just got the figures from a Letraset pack! A nice eerie echo nonetheless) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ A rather tardy mention of an intriguing my-back-pages project Meadow House by Daniel Wilson of RadionicsRadiorenown. It's really on the very edge of this parish, in so far as it's not particularly haunty, but the back story to Daniel's self-invented Dada-prankster practice of media-dropping - "theact of recording special homemade music and dropping it for random people tofind" - is pretty interesting. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The hypnagogia/memoradelia-tinged project Starbloodhas launched a series based around the concept of late-night TV sign-off themes.
Here's another of their tracks coming more from a dreampop / idyllitronic precinct than this particular parish but nice 'n' woozy nonetheless.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Parish elders Boards of Canada were recently venerated here and here. ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Here's an essay I did for Pitchfork about Burial's Untrue ten years on. It's also effectively a tribute to Mark Fisher, who is a recurring presence in the piece. It's intentional that Burial's real name is never once mentioned in the piece - honoring his original allegiance to rave's radical facelessness and anonymous collectivity.
Below is my favorite out of the post-Untrue Burial output - in some ways the missing chapter from that album.
There were two parallels and precursors for Burial's ghost-of-rave (as ghost-of-socialism) aesthetic that I couldn't get into as it would have been too much of a digression. The first: Mark Leckey's Fiorucci Made Me Hardcore, which I wrote about here.
And the second: "Weak Become Heroes" by The Streets.
What Burial related through samples and moody orchestrations, Mike Skinner conveyed with words, describing the flashback of a former raver abruptly set adrift on blissed memories of love and unity on the dancefloor. “All the commotion becomes floating emotions... They could settle wars with this... Imagine the world's leaders on pills... All of Life's problems I just shake off.” Then he's snapped back to the dreary streets of a hostile and hopeless 21st Century England: “gray concrete and deadbeats... no surprises no treats... My life's been up and down since I walked from that crowd.” “Weak,” in Skinner’s song, means not just personally frail, but politically powerless. The weak became heroes when they became a mass, uniting around the unwritten manifesto in the music: someday there’ll be a better way, but in the meantime let’s shelter for a while in this dreamspace. What the critic Richard Smith (like dear Mark also “late” now – so many ghosts these days) called “the communism of the emotions” triggered by Ecstasy seemed to prefigure a social movement. But the collective energy never got beyond the level of a pre-political potential; the moment dissipated.
“I love those hardcore and rave tunes because they sound deep, hopeful, for the times, and the people... It’s unbelievable, that glow in the tunes, it almost breaks your heart.” - Burial, someplace, sometime
"The tunes I loved the most…old jungle, rave and hardcore, sounded hopeful.... All those lost producers…I love them, but it’s not a retro thing…When I listen to an old tune it doesn’t make me think ‘I’m looking back, listening to another era.’ Some of those tunes are sad because they sounded like the future back then and no one noticed. They still sound future to me." - Burial, someplace, sometime
In a way, it's a shame Burial stopped doing the interviews - he was almost born to do them, even more than make music! He's better at describing his own music and motives than any of his critics, except Mark Fisher himself. I remember Mark telling me after he'd done the interview that he couldn't believe his own ears - the stuff that Burial was coming out with was so poetic and evocative, too good to be true almost. A dream of an interview. Anwen Crawford told me of a similar experience: as I recall it, it was like she was hypnotized, sent into a trance by his voice over the phone. But at same time he was completely real and genuine - somehow down to earth and an ethereal being floating out there at the same time.
"I wanted the tunes to be anti-bullying tunes that could maybe help someone to believe in themselves, to not be afraid, and to not give up, and to know that someone out there cares and is looking out for them. So it's like an angel's spell to protect them against the unkind people, the dark times, and the self-doubts" - Burial on Rival Dealer EP / "Come Down With Us"
Actually there's a third parallel/precursor - The Death of Rave by V/Vm, a/k/a The Caretaker - another of Mark's favorites of course...
Momus, "thinking about Scarfolk", along with a bunch of other things and themes, including archival culture and fictitious books
I persist in seeing Scarfolk as the Ride to Ghost Box's My Bloody Valentine
Which must make this chap, Chris Sharp, who records as Concretism, something like the Slowdive or even Chapterhouse of hauntgaze...
from his blurb:
Welcome to my grey world of sinister public information films, dusty
archival sounds, Cold War Britain and weeping analogue synths. Not
necessarily in that order.
All music, stings and sounds created
entirely from scratch, using vintage analogue synths, varispeed tape
bouncing, reversing, field recording and self-sampling. I do not use
pre-made samples, sounds or loops.
400kV Thames Crossing (from BBC 'The Nation Tonight' package, c. 1970)
Fog (COI public information film, 1982)
History for Schools (BBC, 1978)
A Tour of the Factory
'The Switch' (M&E clip) (ITV 'Drama for Tonight', 1973)
The Mediaeval World (BBC, 1975 - *never made*)
'The Star Children' opening theme (BBC, 1980)
among his endorsements:
'Brilliant! Concretism is the perfect accompaniment to Scarfolk' -Richard Littler, Mayor of Scarfolk.
'This guy out-Ghost Boxes Ghost Box. Hauntological heaven.' - -Mike Innes, They Go Boom!!
'Bloody fantastic! On a par with the Ghost Box output at the very least, full of great ideas behind the tracks. I don't know whether to cry, smile, be afraid, or just take note.' -Betacord
Actually enjoyable well-executed stuff, listening to it.... it's just that there's an element of, well, redundancy there.
Still, I suppose at the least it is gratifying that he quite happily tags his output as "Hauntology" c.f churlishness of certain other operators
Pitchfork's Jeremy D. Larson on"Aural Déjà Vu: How Oneohtrix Point Never and Colin Stetson Create Music Unstuck in Time":
"In the early days of scientific studies of déjà vu, a
psychiatrist named Vernon Neppe defined it concisely as "any
subjectively inappropriate impression of familiarity of the present
experience with an undefined past."... What is actually new sensory information... is being processed as old
sensory information....
It may be mistakenly filed into the lobe that handles long-term memory,
or there may be a delay in the visual signal getting sent to the
brain. The sensation is a fantastic moment of
confusion, where we can’t tell if we’re being nostalgic or prescient.
And like just waking up from a dream, we try desperately to hang on to
that disorienting feeling and figure it out, right up until it slips
away from us and the lobes reconnect. I’ve found
that my favorite 21st century music does this: confuses the lobes,
confounds what is present and what is past into an "inappropriate
impression of familiarity of the present with an undefined past." It
creates something strikingly unfamiliar."
Of Lopatin with his Ecco jams and R Plus Seven, Stetson with New History Warfare, and Dawn of Midi with Dysnomia, Larson asserts: "by taking little sections of history and spinning them around, a little
wobbly like a basketball on the finger, there is a hypnotic and
incoherent sense of living in both the present and the past, unstuck in
time "
Question: what happens when this approach itself becomes a cliche? (Vaporwave, yes I'm talking about you). When this zone builds up its own history behind it? (Five years since hypnagogic
O.1 stirred into being, and hard to believe but we're only year or two from it being a decade since
hauntology kicked off!) When time-out-of-joint-iness becomes banalised through repetition and redundancy, to the point where "strikingly unfamiliar" itself becomes a new kind of familiarity? Can this approach go forward, or is "forward" an obsolete concept, an inadmissible desire, in the new conditions?
Including Stargazy on Zummerdown, which I had been searching in vain for on YouTube having come across a clipping about it in an old scrapbook of mine I'd recently got hold of, from when I was fifteen-sixteen and transitioning from old obsessions (Monty Python & diaspora; science fiction; futurology; surrealism) to new ones (music + music journalism).
Originally broadcoast on 15th March 1978 as part of the BBC2 Play of the Week series, it's set in a "23rd century, Britain (now called Albion)" which is "made up of two
distinct communities - the Aggros (farm workers) and the Toonies
(industrial workers). They meet at Zummerdown for the annual midsummer
festival of Stargazy"
Well, I say "getting the future wrong" but I guess we won't know until we get to the 23rd Century, strictly speaking. However like Greatorex's 1990 and like Burgess's 1985, the play is much more a reflection of mid-Seventies preoccupations than actual prognostication.
"Billed as a visionary fable of Britain in the 23rd century, this was an
optimistic look at the future by a historian specialising in the 17th
century. England, or rather Albion, has reverted to a country of
peaceful rural communities and small towns in a happy balance of high
technology, industry and nature, called the Commonwealth of New Harmony.
At the Stargazy, the annual midsummer meeting of the agricultural folk
(Aggros) and industrial workers (Toonies), among the megaliths on top of
Zummerdown, the two communities come together to settle the terms for
the following year’s exchange of products and know-how, and engage in
the ritual discharge of mutual aggression. Under the amiable supervision
of the Reformed Celtic Church, they enjoy themselves in dancing
contests, onion tastings and a swearing contest of Chaucerian
earthiness. Stargazy On Zummerdown was science fiction that drew heavily
on history. Author John Fletcher called it “The Anglo-Saxon constitution plus industrialisation.” The talented cast included Roy Dotrice, Stephen Murray and John Gillbyrne."
"Nuzzling up to Stars of The Roller State Disco (1984) in any self-respecting apocalyptic telly fan's alphabetised collection is Stargazy on Zummerdown
(1978), a slice of town and country ritual rivalry set in the 23rd
century, in a society where urban and rural communities live uneasily
side by side under the benign auspices of a retro-pagan church, and
trade relations between the two are agreed at an annual festival wherein
village fete meets wrestling smackdown. Oh, and an onion eating
contest. If ...Disco was a prime example of hands-on-hips grimness, here's a future full of side-clutching whimsy.
"This is an odd little thing, even in the weirdo annals of 1970s BBC drama. Part of BBC2's prestigious Play of the Week slot usually reserved for the finely wrought likes of Langrishe, Go Down or Stoppard's Professional Foul,
it's the work of John Fletcher, a historian with no previous dramatic
convictions but a healthy interest in pre-industrial revolution England.
As with Hastings's work, characters are schematic. Roy Dotrice plays a
loopy, valve-soldering eccentric, while Peggy Mount gets to shout great
rustic insults as one Opinionated Alice. But the majority of talk, as is
the way with these things, gets put to use explaining and itemising the
meticulously detailed future world and its workings. Delivered in
sing-song west country burrs, this functional chat starts to sound like a
lacklustre episode of The Archers, with the occasional reference to starships being built in Sheffield.
"It's also a fine example of the studio countryside. Everything takes place
indoors, with shrubbery wheeled in from the sides and lit with 5,000
watts in front of a sky blue backcloth. Only modern eyes, raised on
years of hand-held, desaturated Cardiff street footage, have trouble
taking stuff that looks like this seriously, but even at the time the
effect must have smacked a bit of Play School. Not helping
matters is the presence in the cast of Toni Arthur, though to be fair
she does as spirited a saucy “I do declare” turn as the modest headroom
of the script will allow. Perhaps as if to acknowledge this threadbare
failing, director Michael Ferguson (a name to drop amongst psychedelic
Whovians, should you find yourself in their company with no easy escape
route) ends the final shouting scene with a pull-back to reveal the
studio cameras and lighting gantry – a budgetary apology dressed up as
entry-level Brecht. Still, Ferguson was a veteran of Churchill's People, so he knew a thing or two about the “cardboard spear” end of recession drama."
At Residual Noise, James Riley argues forA Field In England as a hauntological film
That makes two, then - with Berberian Sound Studio as the other. Not quite a movement, and one integer short of a trend according to the old journalistic rule. But significant.
The H-connection is clear because of Julian House's involvement in Berberian (doing the credit sequence to the film within the film, Il Vortice Equestre) and his making of an alternative trailer for A Field:
Riley points out where both Ben Wheatley's film and Julian's trailer overlap with a neo-psychedelic aesthetic but also how they differ and veer away into something darker and more unsettled:
"Here we have a similarly high contrast
palette indicative of stereotypical psychedelic imagery. The trailer is shot
through with the kind of mescalinized intensity described by Aldous Huxley in
Heaven and Hell (1956). However, House adds a number of additional details.
Unlike the smooth, HD black and white that embellishes the film, what’s
emphasised in the trailer is the grain of decaying film-stock. House emphasises
the degraded materiality of celluloid which seems to enhance the paranormality
of the of the events in the filed as depicted in the film. The impression is
created of spectral emanations momentarily captured on film with distorting
results"
^^^^^^^
Haven't yet seen A Field In England, really keen to. Recently, finally watched Berberian, having had the DVD sit around for ages, and thought it brilliant.
"Amidst the soft, productive chatter of clicks and keystrokes,
he makes near-imperceptible tweaks to ODB's face. “It’s a constant
process of getting the skin texture right, the pores, the lips. It’s
something you can keep working on forever,” he tells me with an
exasperated laugh. “How close can you get to what God was trying to do?”....
creepier-
"A Swedish designer is developing a product called Global Chef, which would let companionless peopleprepare and eat meals with (yes, I swear) hologram projections of their loved ones"
except it's not really sampling the dead or digital reanimation but a complicated fakesimile...
".... While the projection’s digital assets are informed
by photos and videos of the deceased artists, they are not, as some
people think, archived footage of the performers, but instead original
composites generated from motion-capture shoots. Eazy-E's shoot was
overseen by his widow Tomica Wright, and his “hologram” is actually a
composite of his three children (all of whom are rappers themselves):
Eric Jr. (Lil Eazy-E) acted as the body double, Derrick (E3) provided
the voice, and Erin—who bears a particularlystriking resemblance
to her father—lip synced Eazy’s lines to provide the facial capture.
The audio and motion capture for ODB’s asset, on the other hand, was
solely provided by his son Young Dirty Bastard—his dad’s spitting image
in name and attitude.
All of which means that these particular holograms were not so much the
work of sorcery or Frankenstein-ian corpse reanimation (“To create a
completely synthetic human being is the most complicated thing that can
be done” is something a person actually had to clarify to the Wall Street Journal immediately
after 2Pac’s performance) but more like the 21st-century version of
Lisa Marie playing tribute to her dad by dressing up like an Elvis
impersonator."
a fakesimile that isn't even playing that well with the punters....
The Saturday 14th December event is Vault: Music for Silent Gothic Treasures, with eldtrichtronic musicians performing new scores for 110-year-old Gothic films. It's at the BFI Southbank at 8.45 pm.
From the press release:
The
ensemble was put together by Sarah Angliss, a composer, automatist and theremin
player, whose singularly unsettling music was recently heard at the National
Theatre as a tense underscore to Lucy Prebble’s The Effect. Angliss’
music for Gothic film will be performed by her band: recent Ghost Box
collaborators Spacedog. They’ll be joined by Exotic Pylon’s Time Attendant
(Paul Snowdon) who will be supplying a new work on simmering, tabletop
electronics. There will also be some extemporisations from Bela Emerson, a
soloist who works with cello and electronics. Fellow Ghost Box associate Jon
Brooks, composer of the haunting Music for Thomas Carnacki (2011), will
also be creating a studio piece for the event.
Sourced
by Bryony Dixon, the BFI’s curator of silent film, many of the short films
inspiring these musicians were made in the opening years of the twentieth century.
The Legende du fantôme (1908) and early split screen experiment Skulls
Take Over (1901) are on the bill, along with the silent cubist masterpiece The
Fall of the House of Usher (US version, 1928) and more.
“There
is undoubtedly something uncanny about the earliest of these films”, said
Angliss. “Many are stencil-coloured in vibrant hues, adding to that sense of
the familiar taking on a strange cast. They seem to demand music that suggests
rather than points up the horror, a motif that discomforts as it soothes, or a
sweet sound that is somehow sickly, as though heard in a fever. As with vision,
sound for horror can use the art of the almost, inviting the audience to make
unnerving connections of their own.”
Jon
Brooks said “the visuals suggest aural textures reminiscent of painted glass,
to strange derivatives of stringed instruments. Hopefully I've conjured some
playfulness amongst the macabre too."
Adding
to the strangeness are Angliss’ automata, who will also be performing live.
These include a polyphonic, robotic carillon (bell playing machine) and Hugo,
the roboticised head of a ventriloquist’s dummy who is of the same vintage as
some of the films. The event will be directed by Emma Kilbey. After the BFI
Southbank performance there are plans to tour Vault around Gothic revivalist
buildings around the UK.
The musicians
Sarah
Angliss
- composer; multi-instrumentalist (including theremin, modular synth and other
live electronics); automatist.
Another example: this group Public Service Broadcasting, and their cackhanded attempt to mainstream Ghost Box et l. A blurb: "Through their uniquely spell-binding live AV Transmissions audiences
will witness the band weave samples from old public information films,
archive footage and propaganda material around live drums, guitar, banjo
and electronics as they teach the lessons of the past through the music
of the future - beaming our past back at us through vintage TV sets and
state of the art modern video projection devices."
The sound though is closer to Propellerheads with a proggy live-played whiff of I dunno, Levitation thrown in, and even - quel horreur - a tinge of Mumford on certain songs.
On their 2013 album Inform- Educate - Entertain
the reference points in terms of paternalist-pedagogic-Britain-of-yore are not the usual Ghost Box/Mordant etc 60s/70s ones (Penguins, Open University, spooky kids TV, Radiophonics etc) but the 1940s: rationing, the Blitz, Stafford Cripps, the Beveridge Report....
One really hopes the "keep calm and carry on" / "pull together" vibes are not meant to align with Cameron and the New Austerity.
Just to show their hauntological allegiance they have a tune called "Roygbiv" but I'm damned if I can hear the Boards of Canada original in there.
PSB reminded me a bit of this spoof of Forties nostalgia in Rock Follies, when the Little Ladies's svengali Stavros decides that with the UK economy in crisis circa 1975, ‘Austerity Rock’ will
be the next big thing.The Little Ladies
are remodeled as 1940s nostalgia act The Victory Girls, singing songs like ‘Where’s My Gasmask,’ ‘I’ll Be a War Bride’
and ‘Glenn Miller is Missing.’ Stavros also builds Blitz Club, which is styled as a
London tube station turned bomb shelter, with deliberately grotty grub
purchased using a ration card, and a simulated air raid.
Also reminded me of this: Roxy's "The Bob Medley" - BOB. standing for Battle of Britain -
