FRED YEAST: Archive

August 2011

17 posts

the girl who tried to be indie

the girl who tried to be indie
bought blur and scritti politti
hoarded demos of pete doherty
then gave them to the charity shop.
he never lived up to his ‘tortured genius’ tag.
he did not die at 27.

the girl who tried to be indie
got on all things from the 80s.
the cure, fall, smiths, stone roses.
read up on freud and arthouse movies
considered getting a winehouse tattoo
sighed into her camera and breathed ‘ach do’
like she was sylvia fucking plath.

the girl who tried to be indie
bought two speakers and an old turntable
learnt the names of independent labels
went to brighton for the summer
and protested she didn’t need a lover

aside from all the boys she called “cants!”
she had nothing
but a gin in her hand and crabs in her pants.

A POEM BY FRED YEAST

Aug 30, 20117 notes

#poems #shit poems

Aug 29, 20111 note

#see no evil #bristol #graffiti #nelson st

Aug 29, 2011

#nelson st #bristol #graffiti #see no evil

Beth Jeans Houghton - Dodecahedron

Hurrah! Hurrah! The wonderful geordie belle Beth Jeans Houghton is back after a relatively quiet 12 months or so. I was beginning to worry that she’d slipped from the musical radar for good, like Chumba Wumba or D:ream. Thankfully this is not the case, and her return to the airwaves comes via the release of the enchanting ‘Dodecahedron’ - a song which, it is fair to say, has many sides to it. Twelve, in fact.

In the first two lines we’re treated to a successful and unforeseen rhyme between ‘dodecahedron’ and ‘bleeding’, while the swelling echoes of Houghton’s dulcet melodies meld at the bridge with the tasteful tingle of bells and sparse but stirring drums, which then dissolve into a brooding, unerring bassline, punctuated with gunshot-like explosions, leading us into the song’s centrepiece: a rousing, defiant, male-female harmony that titillates the hairs down the nape of one’s neck. The mood is then shifted again as Houghton’s naked, unaccompanied voice delivers the final lines with a sense of womanliness that hints at vulnerability but manages to steer well clear from mawkish misery.

A superbly-crafted incantation that glows like candlelight and fades but all too soon.

Aug 25, 20119 notes

#fred yeast #beth jeans houghton #newcastle #music 2011 #dodecahedron

Shit Eggs

Don’t eat the shit eggs!
They were laid on the wrong side of the chicken wire
And their shells are so pale
And bear no semblance to quail
But will scramble your brains
Turn it to mush
And then you’ll regret
You ever cooked that omelette.

Do not buy the eggs that are shit!
You don’t know where they’ve been
Or what they haven’t seen.
These eggs have not hatched
And would be no better smashed
Against glass - window or beaker.
Take back all your eggs, you silly fat hens
And stop being slaves to your ovaries.