Big balls, but with a twist.

So , our good friends the Plight have had to drop out of the valentines day we're doing this year at the Camden Purple turtle, which is bad, I think they're whole tour is down at the moment which is a right fucking shame, hopefully it'll all get sorted for them soon.

Thankfully the nice lads in Turbowolf are stepping in, and good for me too cos I meant I could pull the original poster for the show down ( as I really really hated it ) and put something far more slapdash and thrown together up, hurrah! amazing what you find if you type badger into google image search eh kids?

Front Magazine! Us in looking cool shock!

Holy fuck, this is actually genuinely cool, we're terrified of photoshoots as we always seem to end up looking, at best, gormless, or, worse, like cunts. Those of you reading this on iphones I apologise for the tiny tiny images, for the rest of us, enjoy! Or buy the mag and get free boobs and football shite, if that's your bag.

Ahem, and this is pretty sexy.

http://sxsw.com/music

We appear to be playing! Ha!

London Show, Feb 14th

Yes I know, I know I'm sorry we're ruining valentines day this year by playing a punk show, but come on people, it's not all bad. thrilled about the Plight being on there, been listening to their record over the last week, shame on me for not having the chance sooner, but shame on you too if you haven't bought it because it's excellent.

Oh fucking hell.

So...er...its been like 6 fucking months since we blogged on this...so I think we should officially start again because occurred to me that actually this only gets filled in when we're not touring. Which is kind of the opposite of what its meant for.

So if you're looking for tour and show updates, in fact any type of up to date news on the band then this is not the blog for you. But lets be honest, if you were looking for that coca cola , bright coloured, neon sign style discourse then you're probably not a fan of this band. So I figured a nice dour approach will fill the void much more than any kind of flash bang theatrics.

We writing again. This means home time which means rummaging through old albums, me doing lots of drawing, Jag sitting in his room playing guitar for hours and occasionally emailing me about a record he's heard, or me doing the same.

I like it, not that I don't love the touring but just because its Ghost without the performance bit, just the songs slowly coming together. We'll practice for the first time this year this week hopefully, the first time we'll have played since Helsinki last year, so it'll be good to dust off the old songs just bring in the new. I've got a few album titles running through my head, all dark and terrible ( terrible as in ominous, not shite, well maybe both ), and when I've rejected them all I'll put them up here for you to throw verbal apples at.

We'll see how it goes, both songs and new blog policy, you lasted a six months old girl, time to re-kindle that love affair.

Tour blog July 09!

Yeah! So we'll update this daily if I can and internet connection and heat rash allowing, heres to a stonking tour!

Ok, so we've played Liverpool, one show down, thanks to everyone that turned up last night its been ages since we played there and we were really surprised at how many of you turned out..alas The Computers couldn't make last night but they've assured us that they'll be getting bail so they can join us for the rest of the shows. If any one has pictures from any of these shows let us know and we'll put them up here, lets make this a caring sharing tour!

And we begin with one I knicked from the young lass who's commented below, here's me looking sweaty and knackered after playing, man alive it was hot.

Ok, so continue, we're in Carlisle and the venue is beautiful and we actually have natural light in the dressing room which hasn't stopped us all just sitting in ebay looking at vintage guitars and Mem is currently choosing another snare...that'll be 4 for the tour then...ALSO very exciting out banners turned up which means we're officially a massively famous stadium rock band now....how easy was that? See Andy below with Amp flag stage left...

What a smug bugger...we've got a drum one and the biggest back banner but we'll build up to that. And if anyone says anything about Andy's straight edge credentials just cos there's a bloody great Jagermeister logo on his amp then note how he's cunningly hidden it beneath his cab! Huzzah!

Not going to bore you by going awesome show! every night, but it was and what a fucking cool venue. Stood in the glasgow Apple store writing this as its throwing it down at the moment and we've only got plastic bags for coats, so if you see a bunch of idiots with Borders bags on their heads in Glasgow town centre then its probably us. What we didn't let you know about was that when on tour myself and young Andrew enjoy playing the " who can fall asleep in the most ridiculous position " game, and in the Travellodge in Carlisle the game came to its logical conclusion.

...So, thankyou to Hey, Vampires! for playing with us, we all ended up after the show in Nice'n'sleazys enjoying a glass or two of Buckfast, which if you don't know what is then don't look it up, don't try and find it and for gods sake don't give it to anyone thats pregnant or enjoys daylight and being happy, its the devils work I tell thee.

Nice being out and about in town though, I've said it before and I'll say it again Glasgow is a cool little town full of warrior Scotts. Good dust.

Had a lovely drive up to York listening to the new Costello album, which is fucking mint.

Oh, and just for completeness...

The album lyrics need and online home, I'd like it to be here!

Discussions later this week.

Moved as mountains, dreamt of by the sea. I’ve got the sun, she sleeps right next to me, I’ve got the stars kept in a hollow shell and we met the kids who fled from cities to the soil, and flew from Arizona to the shores of Italy, to find a cure for all the curses that are dreamt up by the sea. Witch, Nun, Beggar by what name do you feel whole? We’re swimming up now sugar, it’s in your eyes, I’m swimming up to meet you caught in the tide, I met the mountains they were sworn to comply, I swam the depths and I found diamonds in their eyes. This is forever music. This is the stolen life. Give it time, give it time. These are the stories of dead men, these are the days of do or die, forgiveness seems a mile away and distant from your home, but you must know that you will never die alone. Not die alone.

Bright lights. Bright lights, drifting in-front of me, heave up all the tar in your bones, good luck with that apology, never choose how you go. Got raped, dangled in-front of me, got raped now they’re phoning your home, good luck, with that apology, never choose how you go. Gold from tin, you can’t tell the difference. Can’t you see all you need are different rules? Can’t you see that all you need, different bones? All you do is fucking complain ‘bout being thrown to the wolves, keep in mind the vermin you fear have all been wearing kid gloves. Fuck dreaming. Dead eyes drifting in-front of me, red eye is a sign that you’re done, passed out in the back of an ambulance, maybe they’ll take you home. All you do is fucking complain ‘bout being thrown the wolves, keep in mind the hopes that you have will all be better of lost. Get ready. Float me in a barrel down the river. Turn your bright lights on. Bright lights, drifting in front of me, heave up all the tar in your bones, good luck with that apology, you never choose how you go, the way we go.

Knees, Toes, Teeth. Fucking new romantics, it’s only rock-n-roll, this is our religion as heaven we’ll never know. No, I’m not delivered. Architects as militants, architects as crystal bones, metal hearts as oil cans, metal shoulders, knees and toes, in the spaces in our teeth lie the weapons of our youth, bring them down without a sound, bring them down and burn their towns. Fucking new romantics, it’s only rock-n-roll, this is our religion as heaven we’ll never know. No, I’m not delivered. I’m not delivered at all. We all kneel down at the feet of the sound. I was born an hour glass, now I’m skinny as a rake, I was born with silver spoons but I’ll die without a care, but that’s cool. . Fucking new romantics, it’s only rock-n-roll, this is our religion as heaven we’ll never know. No, I’m not delivered. I’m not delivered at all.

Canyons of Static. Those marks around your neck, They’re not letting your body go, I know its crawling through your fucking body, We know we’ve gotta let it go. My love, my skin is getting thicker, my lung, my heart is getting blacker. Cancer towers ahead and it’s not letting your body go, there’s no escape or release or reform, we know we’ve gotta let it go. My love, my skin is getting thicker, my lung, my heart is getting blacker. You know I walk like you, talk like a good son should. You know I scream like you, scream as a good boy should, to let a good thing go. It’s over. I’ve got a feeling daddy I don’t know, what I’ve started, what I need. Let it go kid, it’s over. It’s over.

Split the atom. There’s a shadow on the bodies of the kids that we all grew up adoring. Can you whisper, can you stutter, can you breath whilst the smog climbs through our mountains? This is bleeding us dry, this is cutting us up, we’re the kids who see the world as an empty cup, with a death note and a black stare and a pardon from a government that doesn’t care. We sleep, our locks are picked apart and analyzed. Here’s your weapon, here’s your secret, here’s the pieces of the puzzles you have hidden. Here’s your money, here’s your gun, here’s the funeral you’ve earned only son. Well we’re all drinking alone, we’re all singing a tune, we’re the kids in the blacked out hospital rooms with the lights on, and our eyes shut as the bricks and the timber fall around us. We sleep our locks are picked apart and analyzed. Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up the damn phone, there’s a chance we’ll make it tonight. Run on, run on, run on, this is an island not a tomb for the likes of you and I. Yeah we’ve got the pigs skin, yeah we split the atom, yeah we lost the one good thing we made. Yeah we’re drinking alone, yeah we’re singing a tune, we’re the kids in the blacked out hospital rooms, with the lights on, and our eyes shut as the bricks and the timber fall around us. See that bitch swing, fucking treason. Split the atom, split it.

Neptune. Put me to sea, raise the flag on my eulogy, put me to sea, better off with the waters deep. Raise the flag, raise the flag, Tell the preachers the sky’s gone black. Salt the earth, raise the trees, tell the preachers there’s nothing left of me. I’ve been carved from stone and rock, they chip right into me it’s fucking pitiful. I was saved when I met these guys, they chip right into me it’s fucking true. Put me to sea, raise the flag on my eulogy, put me to sea, better off with the waters deep. Here’s the future they have sold us, clean, safe: It is nothing to be proud of, coal burns beneath us and rots. We’ve got charity, we’ve got motor oil. There’s no substitute for that hope, you’d better drop to your knees. These are the songs of the molten lava, this is the whinging of the galley slave, this is for souls with their homes divided, for the fathers who don’t know their kids. This is the home for the broken hearted, this is for the passing of the bright idea. Sleep at the bottom of the sea.

Nobody likes a hero. It’s just a common cold, brought on by a lack of trust ,it’s just a small stone hanging from an iron cross, it’s just a black mark picked up by a fucking nurse, we walk away, walk away like it’s not our fault. Can’t see, mouth fills up with tar, black tar, if only you could see. I can’t see it, my mouth fills up it’s just that we’re dazzled in the homes of the magistrates. Tongue, whip, gold, no choice, we’re dazzled in the homes of the magistrates. Can’t see it, my mouth fills up with tar, black tar, if only you could see, we’re dazzled in the homes of the magistrates, we’re dazzled in the homes of the magistrates, we’re dazzled by the magistrates.

Running on empty. I’m dead in my mother’s eyes, this band barely keeps me alive, this band is the source of all my troubles, all worries. This battleship has struck the tide, it’s sailors thrown up on my side, black water flows through all I know and all I know is burials. Oh! No future? I’ll risk it. At least the risks we take are as a unit. When all we’ve got is pride, my futures upped and died, I’ll cherish every second we’re together. I won’t remember all the starlight in your skies, I’ll just remember all the black tar round your waistband, we pushed the bodies in the lake but it’s a train wreck, we never tangle with the weak. No future? I’ll risk it. At least the risks we take are as a unit. When all we’ve got is pride, my futures upped and died, I’ll cherish every second we’re together. When all we’ve got is pride, my futures upped and died but god it left a corpse so pretty. Cherish every second with you.

Fed to the Ocean. Whale bones, small stones, flags waving in the hands of the broke and homeless, dig deep, dig fast, we’re screaming for the kids that’ll finish last. This is the sound of the worthless drunk’s son, these are the cards of a vulture culture, this is the sound of the right place wrong time, this is the mark of a victimless crime and... Our limits, will be our killer but I’m bored of being afraid, so much for the kids that never quit. I won’t regret it, I won’t forget it, these are the days were the good die undiscovered, This is a cause won’t be fucking bought, not the ones buying. Dead hearts, false starts, clean the oceans while the whales sleep on their backs. Fall hard, fall down , dig the tunnels while the worms sleep undisturbed. These are the towers of the kingdoms falling down, this is the sight of the queens blood drenched crown, this is fall of the kings we’re killing now, this is the mark of a fingerless town and... Our limits, will be our killer but I’m bored of being afraid, so much for the kids that never quit. I won’t regret it, I won’t forget it, these are the days were the good die undiscovered, this is a cause won’t be fucking bought, not the ones buying.

Good Old Fashioned Loss. Bring him home, bring him home, bring him in. I’ve been here many times close to tears. We brought a bunch of reserves, I’m scared the earth won’t keep, Safe, warm, shrouded in the dark. We bought a shed load of coal: my family home. Bring him home, bring him home, bring him in, we bought a bunch of reserves, I’m scared the earth won’t keep. Bring him home, bring him home, bring him in, I’ve been here many times close to tears. Bring him home, bring him home, bring him in, I’ve been here many times close to tears. I want to see the beauty in the world, I want to feel a kinder guiding hand, I want to see the world as Jesus Christ or Ghandi, or Buddha, Mohammed, whatever. And it’s done, the message is the message is a fraud and it’s done, the question is which question you are asking is a dud. And I’m just a mannequin with your love tacked on and this is all a failure from the moment that you’re gone. This is all I’ve got from the moment that you’re gone. I need to see the health return to you, I need to see forgiveness in your eyes, I need to let you know that you’re the only shining light that keeps my view of heaven as unnecessary slums, and this is all just a failure from the moment that you’re gone.