ART

What’s worse? David Guetta and Thierry “Mr. Brainwash” Guetta collaborating or the x Superdry Timothy Everest project? I can’t quite make up my mind but they’re probably pretty lucrative when it comes to tapping into the psyche of those willing to part with the beige pound and beige dollar. There’s a lot more to the world that the cool-guy realm that’s blogged so relentlessly.

Everyone’s into print these days, but not everybody’s built for it. I can’t see the value in the majority of editorials plugging product that just seem to be executed to keep paymasters who think that kind of thing matters happy with tangible proof that something is “working” but I still get a kick out of picking up a magazine that delivers something different. Standard advertorial can pale next to a well-timed Tweet, but good product is guaranteed goodwill. Recently I mapped out a plan for a publication but lost my temper over something unrelated and deleted the plan out of spite against myself. That self-sabotage was worth it though, because the contents list was tedious. Like I said, it’s not for everyone, I was very impressed by the Acid Rambler newspaper when I got a glimpse the other week and by uniting a Patagonia founder with a Beach Boy, it has a cohesion that’s only apparent to those who get the core concept — that’s some masterfully executed self-indulgence. The (sold out) Oi Polloi tie-dye tie-ins are good too. I like ‘LAW’ magazine too and #2 has just dropped.

Lives And Works magazine is the brainchild of John Joseph Holt, deceived me with its cover (I’ve developed an apathy toward £10+ fashion mags that sit artfully spaced on boutique shelves and never reach a second issue), but takes a close inspection at existing British tribes and characters rather than applying a buzzword to a non-movement. Estate agents with suedehead pasts, housing block signage, Playstation games, scooter shops, wetlook hair, newsagent workers and proprietors, plus Saturday night theme pub dwellers are in the portraits and personal accounts ‘LAW’ includes. That’s pretty much everything Danny Boyle forgot to chuck into the Olympic opening ceremony then. Come the apocalypse, when a new species of human sifts through 2012’s wreckage with their 13 fingered hands, I would hope they’d discover something like this as a document of where we were, rather than some misleading rag that makes us look like a bunch of, tech goth, Azealia Banks disciples haplessly grasping for “movements” who pretty much deserved to be eliminated. I would hope that ‘LAW’ would be cause for more compassion. John Holt’s work parallels team ISYS.TV and their love of everyday style that we seem to aimlessly aspire away from or demonise with chav allegations. ISYS are getting a spot at the Tate with NTS too and it’s a great platform for their work. Go get ‘LAW’ from Goodhood or B Store or get more information here.

Another place where print is relevant is in graffiti. You could argue that it’s the transient, fleeting nature of the artform that makes documentation so essential but it’s probably because graffiti has a tendency to attract massive geeks who like buying stuff and probably pretend that they racked it. ATG always come correct in a world where so many can profit from the legal side only and they get up in places that people can actually see from afar. Their blog also makes graffiti seem kind of fun, rather than being something dysfunctional sociopaths bang about on forums. ATG’s ‘Eye In the Sky’ book depicting some pieces with positive messages and plenty of eyes in prominent places is something different though. It goes on sale at Stolen Space after a launch tomorrow.

If there wasn’t a ‘They Live’ would we be subjected to OBEY nowadays? Was it worth it? Of course it was worth launching a tiresome street art career and streetwear for people who like Mr. Brainwash. That scene with Roddy Piper and Keith David’s battering each other in the alley way makes it all worth it. The soundtrack, that subversive subtext that can be enjoyed on a simple alien/human invasion flick level, that ending and the director/star commentary on the original DVD are all classic. It’s one of the greatest genre films ever. The impending Blu-ray release (set for November) has the kind of artwork (nice font too) that sold a VHS to me in 1988, even if the special features haven’t been announced. It’s a shame that there’s not a deluxe edition with replica truth-telling sunglasses/hater blockers, but there’s still time. You can tell a lot about a person by whether they’ve seen ‘They Live’ and how passionate they are about it. This art beats the OBEY poster from last summer’s Alamo Drafthouse screening.

“THERE’S NO BUDGET, BUT…”

“There’s no budget, but there could be scope for bigger things…” has long been drip-feeding into my Gmail account as some half-arsed incentive to do anything. Fortunately, I have a day job and any written work on the side is little more than hobbyist nonsense — I think I crave corporate relationships to fill a gap somewhere in my psyche with written word promiscuity. I care about getting the job done yet I have little to no interest in being a writer and I have even less inclination to enter the world of journalism. Journalism used to have a function — not to enlighten, expose injustice or change the world, but to get free CDs and records. Then everyone stopped caring about vinyl and you could download the content of a CD. With that, any journalistic impulses in me eroded and I swiftly sold my soul. I was a crap music journalist too — I used the word “sonics” too much and would bestow full marks so liberally that it made ‘The Source’ at its absolute 5-Mics-for-Lil’ Kim nadir read like Tom Paulin in full misery mode. I have no plans to return to that realm and I’m unsure as to whether music journalism has benefited from being ridded of freeloaders like me or simply been populated by dickriders who don’t want to lose their press trip privileges or be spotted by label PRs during their regular trawls of Google Blogearch and Twitter. I try to keep out of it.

Yet I still feel a certain kinship with the ripped-off writers of this world. Everybody gets shafted at corporate and indie level when they’re trying to get a name for themselves, but words don’t seem to be valued as much as images (and I have the greatest respect for photography — especially when everybody thinks they can do it and can’t) or even styling — which in the hands of Petri or Foxton is an art, but in the hands of many is just editing an existing edit and assembling them in an unexceptional manner. Nobody gives you a bunch of those word fridge magnets and says, “Assemble me some paragraphs!” Maybe it’s because copy-paste culture means nobody needs to edit the crap copy a PR company blasts out there. I’ve long found that there’s scope for bigger things, but it’s important to stick up for yourself by reminding those who’ve conveniently forgotten that their job is — like mine and many out there who take things far too seriously — utterly irrelevant beyond a square mile or so and a handful of outlying towns and villages where people might pick up a style magazine, imagining some magical realm and visit London to get ripped off too. It’s all bullshit.

I write for fun and when I see somebody exploiting that, it leaches the joy from banging out freeform paragraphs laden with run-on sentences. I hate the culture of aggregation too — mostly third-hand smoke and mechanically reconstituted information under the guise of content creation. If you can’t write, create, photograph, design, edit, raise funds or inspire, why are you getting involved in a creative industry? I respect the crew culture of strength in numbers, but why advertise for blog contributions? Build it and they’ll come, unless you’re just another clone of an existing site operating to get a free t-shirt from a rookie PR. I feel bad declining blog contributions elsewhere, but one joy of digital democracy is that I can up something wildly self-indulgent, unedited, unstructured and unproofed up here right now without a deadline, an editor or any external force hampering it. Why do I need to write for you?

Some would argue that democracy is what’s wrong with the internet, but it isn’t — where once, fanzines required workplace misuse, spent printer cartridges and photocopy costs, the internet lets that spirit roam free. It’s not as tangible, but it there has to be some compromise. I’m extremely happy that my friends at Hypebeast (some have assumed I’m anti Hypebeast, but that’s a fallacy — I’m still losing sleep over the Yeezy 2 drop) occasionally syndicate copy from here onto their vastly more successful site. If you have a blog….sorry, “online magazine” why can’t you dip into design, create your own shots and do all your own writing? Why do you need to start recruiting from day one? Did you learn nothing from Boo.com? If you’re into something enough, you can broadcast it and from there, the world is yours. Don’t let the leeches steal your shine. The internet is full of po-faced conversations with anybody who’ll constitute “content” and short video documentaries about pretty much anyone. It’s just one big crowd smelling their own farts and claiming they’re iconic. The time is right to just do your own thing. If you’re going to work for free, just do it for yourself.

Just to contradict my pro-digital ramblings above I’m a little more drawn back to writing for print at the moment, just because it’s the only way I can convince my mum that I have a job and because just as your moment of glory goes live online, too often, it’s swiftly washed away by wave after wave of the same old information. Click throughs are far uglier than physical pages too. One key element is seeing the snub of no Twitter, Pinterest or Facebook shares. With a piece in print, ignorance is bliss, but online, elements of your failure to engage an audience are there for all to see.

Where did that rant come from? I needed to write something for this blog, my inbox just pissed me off with budget-free promises of a media takeover and the teasers for this documentary – ‘Salad Days: the Washington D.C. Punk Revolution’, reminded me that once upon a time, “There’s no budget but…” used to be an asset and a harbinger of impending creativity. Between this and the ‘Bad Brains: A Band in D.C.’ (with an appearance from the late Adam Yauch) film that recently got a poster, indicating that screenings beyond SXSW are imminent. It’s all about D.I.Y — forget the begging letters.

For my fellow John Carpenter fans, AintItCoolTV just upped this video of the ‘They Live’ panel from Texas Frightmare with Roddy Piper, Keith David (in skintight neon mode) and Meg Foster. Plenty of trivia in just over 15 minutes.