tour - day 3

ok so we are back in the van and en route to Leeds. last night we played in manchester. the show was great and the people very friendly. the band that supported us were called from the kites of san quentin and are great and you should take a listen..







after the show we stayed at this amazing house somewhere just out of town. this lady below, Bernie, well she likes the idea of opening up her house at 1am to sweaty drunk loud bands to come in and fall all over the shop. of course we were the epitome of princely charm....she had cooked us dinner and got the drinkx and smokex in and we sat up late into the night with her listening to her record collection and getting the dirt on the others who had stopped by -----i wish she lived in every city.i never want to stay in a hotel ever again. and from now on, we only play manchester.

in the morning max the tour manager and i tried to hit the garden swing with a football for a while and then i breakdanced on a trampoline .





now to leeds.

tour - day 2

Last night we played in cambridge at a small venue called the portland. we all enjoyed the show and aaron, the broken armed bass player had real nice stool to sit on. It had a lovely mahogany finish and was very well padded, chrome legs and rubber stoppers - a real beaut.






i must remember to get someone to take photos of the actual shows...

Have a day off today in london, a couple of interviews later and then start work on the cut for the o.r.l.d viral....

tour - day 1

TPIA are on tour at the moment. Its a great feeling playing this music to people and my band are communicating very well.




Today we are in birmingham.

Yesterday Alice designed a template of the TPIA logo and we handmade some tee shirts.

O.R.L.D viral shoot

On sunday my MC family, charles, alice and i threw together a load of equipment and used a friends bar and shot a chroma key viral video for o.r.l.d.....Fun, the guy kept the bar open at student prices and the pavement outside was burning up..












Benj, nivk le sticc, craig templay and marty badford performed o.r.l.d for us

tuesday 12th may

Early this morning i found myself on a stretch of anonymous dual carriageway around park royal. I was carrying camera equipment for alice as she had been asked to do 'making of' for a new rankin/future shorts film. I dropped the cases off, cracked my knuckles, pinched at my new blisters and headed back up the road. the sky began to spit at me, i stared him right in the eye and spat back which in turn came back to haunt me no thanks to a westerly howl of warm storm wind. i stalked the pavement around a corner and could see a row of well known fast food restaurants lined up in a brutish stink of some kind of perpendicular quasi-rugby move. behind them the sky was black and rolling. to my left there was a cinema - i dived in and was met by a group of screaming 7year olds obviously steaming drunk on inset day or the flu scare, you could tell their tongues were rainbow coloured and that they couldnt believe their luck. to my dismay i noticed that there was a only a single parent helpless in the centre of their multi-coloured ritualistic circle and that any film i chose would be ruined by their war cries permeating the entire building.
i had to weigh it up. i did. so i walked in the rain back up to a tube station. i ended up watching a film alone in a cinema in hammersmith. i sat at the front to really soak it up but was paranoid throughout that some throat slitter would be shuffling about in the rows behind me. the film was like warm piss and my murder anxiety got the better of me so i walked out after an hour.

I decided id walk around the local area to my flat. I visited the land that John Dee's house used to stand upon and was surprised to find that the only sign of him having ever lived there was that 'they' had named the block of flats next to it after him.




No blue plaque, no small museum, no nothing. There was some kind of tea drinking contest going on across the road in the church where his body supposedly lies so i walked past that and went and saw Sir Richard Burtons mausoleum.



Going on short music tour in June - birmingham, cambridge, manchester, leeds, winchester......let me know of any good graves to visit---------

FIRE DANCE VIDEO

Here is the video for my single 'Fire Dance'.
It was produced by Charles Key and co-directed by Alice Lillian and I under the three of ours new company Machine Channel.

youtube.com/machinechannel
machinechannelpicturecompany.blogspot.com

pissing in a river

should i pursue a path so twisted
should i crawl defeated and gifted
should i go the length of a river
what about it what about it what about it
oh im pissing in a river
- patti smith

final weekend of april,2009
yesterday it was my birthday or something so i sat by the river with some friends.

a twelve hour stint 4 til 4 in the summer evening on the S bank. my favourite spot in london. nothing beats it. not even a 40 yarder.

so day went somewhere and suddenly it was dead of night and deserted down there. so we hit the beach. but only after we pissed about.

I am as bad at updating my blog (www.edwardeke.blogspot.com) as i am at paying my bills - an art which i have masterfully practiced since my first flat at 17. any thought of that first flat makes shiver. i remember waking one morning to find that my feet were a dark withering green/grey and had developed a cold moist layer of extra something. i wasnt about to find out what that something was. i just went and saw a guy and he told me that i had trench foot. yes. trench foot. I took a look at myself in the mirror, saluted and turned on my heals back to the barracks. that place was a dive, all the windows fell from their frames, we had a one bar heater but were too scared to turn it on, too scared that the sudden change in temperature would send our bodies in to a fatal cramp. after finding some photos recently i remembered how many funny episodes took place in that flat - il dig them out at some point and add the stories too.

I woke very early this morning and took a walk thru the common next to my flat. the sun was above but mild and hazy, it knew how i wanted it - as if he really treats the early morning walkers to an early bird special - not too stifling, minus the prickles, a gentle introduction to what he can do. I walked under the bridge i always walk under. I like to stop directly underneath, eyes closed and and let the shards of the lights make patterns on my eyelids. i stand there and rock like nostradamus did for Catherine De Medici and try go flicker myself into the future. the locals love it. the noise the trains make as they reach the centre is an incredible harsh grind. i have recorded it so many times but it never sounds as good as live.

other news - time keeps getting the better of me so i have pushed the release of my first TPIA single back to June. first week. the video is finished and ready to go and i am very happy with it. co-directed by alice lillian, charles key and i under a new company we have started called machine channel. we are going to be producing a number of music videos, shorts, and experimental films and collaborating with other film makers and artists on a number of projects. the first to be announced soon. this is a scheme that i am very focused on and enthused by.

on another note, i am not using larrikin as my surname any longer. this is because i think its just confusing and restraining. i am using another family name of eke, which has an amusing history, a punchy cadence and sums up my last three years of living..ha.

i love a refreshing new start. i have a lot to tick off the list this year. it must be the new year somewhere, surely.

so. more news is on its way and i will make sure this is updated.

look out for the video in a few days.

E

NEW YEARS MESSAGE

0.Just before the new year a body was found right next to my flat. on 28th december a local guy found a girls body on the rivers edge. She had been missing since the 9th. police had found her passport on the 12th.and on the 28th they found her body 100 metres from where the passport was found two weeks earlier.She was found under the bridge.I walk under that bridge 3 or 4 times a day. She must have lay there while this little town on the edge of london went about their festive plans.

1.In a dream last night i was on a table in one of those large meat fridges you find in the back room of a butchers shop.The walls were falls of thick syrupy ox blood and the room was slowly disappearing. After three attempts to drop the nightmare, and one brief stay in some interim corridor between being awake and being heavily set in dream, i was back in the room, in the real world, not completely sure what that is at the moment, but in a room nonetheless.

2.getting out of the city on NYE was fresh hell. Ushered along the southbank and around waterloo with 250,000 other sheep as if we were the only survivors of armageddon and the police were in a rush. Nearly stabbed, twice. Phone fell under a train not scheduled to depart til 7am. That kind of thing.

3.Its sad and cold here and the police are idiots who spurt unprovoked bile and understand their jobs to be a performance piece in brutal machismo and view the festive season as a time where everyone on earth is drunk and therefore has to be arrested and detested.

4.Im not sure how welcome we are here anyway. Its like that scene in The Long Goodbye when Marlowe says to his cell mate "remember its not you in here, its only your body".

5.There are many positives though and we will make it thru January.

stay clean

EL

fixing my hair in the river thames

The men and women who walk across the major bridges of London; Hammersmith, Waterloo, the ugly looking thing between the Southbank and Charing Cross; these men and women seem to rush frantically to their nothing nothing jobs, soggy worm rolls and their toilet water lunches. I on the other hand, today, being Monday the 15th december, am in no rush at all. I glide across Hammersmith's solid, emerald beast, skip across the southbank's glittering half pipe in all its 8 year old birthday party splendour and find myself along the river at Vauxhall.
The air is cold and spiky, it attacks my nostrils and i manage to spit firmly off the bridge into a passing steelworks chugger. Francis Bacon's greatest hits are over there on Millbank so i decide to have one last look before they bugger orf in January.
The people who go and see his paintings these days, the fans, i suddenly realise on entering the first room, are, on the whole, sweating large industrial size buckets of vanity. This is not an assumption built on the fact that they have rabbits tied around their necks and foxes keeping their sour, jumped up little spindlies from being as cold as their hearts, but the very fact that Francis framed all his paintings in the most spotless, gleaming, polished glass, thus creating the narcissists perfect mirror. They stand there decorating their egos, ruffling their sloane squares with complete disregard for Peter Lacy's distorted face lost in a foggy jungle of thick blue mist.
I read somewhere that Bacon used this glass on purpose to usher the viewer into some kind of of prison of self assessment, to make them quake in their boots of vulnerable meat. Im sure that it has had the desired effect on many fans and punters, but to be honest, in the last 4 months of this show, the majority of these shmucks would be better off in the stinking changing rooms of Brent Cross' Primark.
Anyway, its interesting to see and im back on the bridge freezing, searching for some kind of bunny or graveyard dwelling fox i can stuff my hand up and get warm.
Looking forward to recording over christmas and new year. And performing live too.

CLICK HEREfor photos from the 'timeless, mild, beguiling island of a town' that is Laugharne, home to the 'Laugharne weekend' which i visited last march, to drink,walk,do a reading,present camusflage krokodial,eat, drink,visit the graves,laugh etc, and will try to visit again this march.

//||\\

other things & glossolalia channel utube

my friends at LONDON WORD FESTIVAL (where Camusflage Krokodial, that monologue i wrote last year, was first shown) have created a page dedicated to The Fib - which is a poem based on the Fibonacci sequence. CLICK HERE and go to the Fibber's Gallery at the bottom of the page. Then, when you are ready, you, the very merry public, are invited to submit your own. Go.

also

www.youtube.com/screamingbody14
video diaries and films
i will update the page as i sort thru my computer
there are many videos from pilion to laugharne to texas to

live at the paradiso

so we travel thru the night into the city of red lights..around 3am we stroll up to the top deck and look out at the channel as we skulk across it. the air is warm and fizzing so we open our mouths. we do that and take photos of eachother leaning over the edge. start talking with a guy called mustufa who says he is a moroccan travel agent..i spend a while thinking about what he really meant by that.
we drive thru belgian countryside which we all agree is really fucking dull and arrive in the city at around 8am. we have breakfast, do the tourist thing and then try and get into our rooms for a sleep. the thing is my room isnt ready so i have to sit there, while everyone else sleeps, being 'entertained' by this gaunt freakshow of a receptionist. he shows me his films which are, on a very basic level, just photos that he has lifted off google of animal cruelty. he calls them 'shock docs'. i cant help but laugh violently. i dont even realise im doing it until alice points out that im dribbling all over the mans keyboard.
after 20 minutes of sleep, not sleep really..more just having my eyes shut, we soundcheck and then stock up at the drink shop, which is in between the knocking shop and the coffee shop.
later on we play a show. its the first show with this new live line up and, as i leave the stage, i feel it has gone well and turn to the others and hug them and say " guys, i think that went well..so...you know..well done" they all feel the same and we laugh and shout for hours. i spend the rest of the evening outside by the canal speaking with people and spitting into the water. i dont even see any other music which i regret now as there was some interesting stuff. the only thing i do see is this very tall looking boy with about 10 jumpers on called fyars. he is good and we all nod in agreement as his set draws to a close. we head back to the canal and leave him to sweat it out.
after a few hours we head back to the hotel and catch the final hours of children in need which is pretty fucking out there. benji rolls thru the hotel doors at 5 ish after being removed from a restaurant by our tour manager for offering himself up to amsterdam in some kind of abstract sexual sacrifice.the next morning he puts it down to miscommunication.
anyway, we finally get home and eat pasta at the flat and continue celebrating nothing.

pangames//||\\