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Welcome To The Berlin Funkadelic Electro Revival

Beatmag interviews… Lotterboys

Andrew Laughlin gets to grips with the Jack Daniels-marinated sex-funk stew of The Lotterboys

“What I really, really love is simple riff music,”declares Shapemod of The Lotterboys in a light German accent, “I think that often has similarities to dance music – things like ACDC or whatever. It’s so simple but funky as well. A friend just gave me a nice CD of KISS too so I’ll look forward to hearing that.”

He’s also quick to recognize what a clubbing hot spot his home-base of Berlin has become.

“The Panorama Bar is pretty cool,” he reckons , “The Berghain is a really huge club and is more gay orientated while the connected Panorama bar is smaller but opens from 3 AM to the afternoon next day.” (more…)

Beatmag Q&A – Shooter Jennings

Thomas H Green talks cowboys, cocaine and country music with maverick southern boy Shooter Jennings

shooter jennings electric rodeo wrasse cowboy LA nashville

Shooter Jennings sits in a radio station in Memphis where he’s on air shortly to promote his band’s show. He’s been driving from Nashville all day but is still fired up because his new album, ‘Electric Rodeo’, is part of an ongoing mission to provide a fresh vision for country and rock, a place where the two fuse into a raucous, long-haired, couldn’t-give-a-damn party. Born 26 years ago to golden outlaw country couple Jessi Colter and the late great Waylon Jennings (Shooter’s real name is Waylon Albright Jennings), Shooter started playing guitar with his dad when he was 14 but soon discovered the raw thrill of rock’n'roll and moved to LA where he formed the locally successful Stargunn. In 2003, however, he broke the band up because he wanted to get back to his country roots. (more…)

Acid ‘Haus’

Beatmag interviews… Schneider TM

Lee Smith gets to grips with melancholy and rock’n'roll in the German electronic vanguard of Schneider TM

Dirk Dresselhaus, the man behind electro-coustic maverick act Schneider TM, is part way through telling Beatmag about his charming-sounding weekend in Barcelona, when a series of almighty crashes interrupts our pleasantries.

“Arrgh, my fucking house,” he cries. This is clearly not the first time something like this has happened. “It’s getting renovated. It’s been happening for over a year now and it’s still not right. It’s fucking annoying.” (more…)

Rapid Fire

Peter Hook

Beatmag’s unique questionnaire, where our readers (and contributors) fire offbeat questions at the great and the good.

Peter Hook, 50, is bassist for New Order, the Manchester group formed from the ashes of Joy Division in the early 1980s. Over the years he has been a member of other groups, such as Revenge and Monaco, produced the Inspiral Carpets and worked with Hybrid, but it is for his low-slung melodic New Order basslines that he will be remembered. As a vital cog in the Factory Records indie empire he co-owned The ground-breaking Hacienda nightclub in Manchester and has recently helped mix and put together the three CD ‘Hacienda Classics’ compilation for Virgin EMI. (more…)

Devil’s Advocate

Where Beatmag defends the indefensible.

Thomas H Green speaks out on behalf of ‘Hotel California’

From Oasis singing, “All my dreams are made, chained to the mirror and the razor blade,” to Leonard Cohen recognizing that, “Everybody knows that you live forever, when you’ve done a line or two,” pop lyricists have acknowledged the mixed blessings of icing your head with showbiz sherbert. And that’s only a part of it – the drugs, the sex, and the debauchery have been integral to the rock myth almost as long as the music itself.

Whether it’s David Essex’ fictional alter ego Jim Maclaine blowing a dog’s mind with acid in ‘Startdust’ or W.A.S.P.’s Chris Holmes floating about his swimming pool wasted, swigging vodka while his mum ticks him off in Penelope Spheeris’ ‘The Decline Of Western Civilization Part II: The Metal Years’, rock’n'roll patently leads people off society’s beaten track. (more…)

Threads

This month, a few tips on how to avoid getting a bad mugshot…

All photos sourced from www.thesmokinggun.com

Crime doesn’t pay, or so we’re told. Whether the other cliche ‘no such thing as bad publicity’ is in direct contradiction to that is up for debate…
You could ask Winona Ryder or Eminem, you could ask Gary Glitter…

What’s certainly true, is that if you’re a celebrity or a particularly outstanding outlaw – and if you get your collar felt and get photographed by the cops – that mugshot is going to circulate the web and is quite likely to haunt your name forever more.

To truly capitalise on this myth-making, legacy shaping ‘publicity event’ (yeah the glass has to be half full), there are some simple tips which should be followed carefully if possible. (more…)

Obsessions

Mr Potato Head

Dennis Martin, a TV director from Birmingham, Alabama is obsessed with Mr. Potato Head.

“I get emails from people all the time asking questions,” sighs Dennis Martin, “One of the top ones is, ‘Where can I get a bride and groom Mr. Potato Head?’”

Born in Alabama 41 years ago, Dennis has found himself the global source of information about all things Mr. Potato Head due to his website and massive collection of related memorabilia. A jovial fellow, married with five children, Dennis was even going to publish an illustrated book on the subject at one point (more…)

Media Slag

A monthly rant on the tepid traits and tawdry interactions of the music business with its rabidly sycophantic ally, the music media.

Moniker Monitor

Ah, Snow Patrol, let me count the ways I loathe thee. Now you return with a new album, ‘Eyes Open’, relentlessly touting the post-millennial rock star mantra of “I can’t believe how lucky we are, I’m so grateful we’re just normal blokes” guff.

Even bloody Embrace, once a bullishly arrogant bunch of Yorkshiremen, have joined the ‘I can’t believe how lucky we are’ brigade. True, they did go through what looked like a terminal commercial slump, but that’s no excuse.

Oasis, bless ‘em, muster a sneering insouciance, even when their music is turgid rubbish that Status Quo would hesitate to release. (more…)

The Red Light District

Beatmag’s regular technical columnist James Spectrum (AKA Jari Salo of Pepe Deluxe) draws the elusive link between baby monitors and the demons of the Pentagon.

Back in 1763 Sir William Pitt, while addressing the British House of Commons, summed up the heart of privacy by declaring the following:

“The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the Crown. It may be frail – its roof may shake – the wind may blow through it – the storm may enter – the rain may enter – but the King of England cannot enter; all his forces dare not cross the threshold of that ruined tenement.”

However, what Sir William did forget was addressing the issue of what goes not in but out of the cottage. Modern technology has done wonders for the ever-common hobby of eavesdropping.

While shared phone lines and telephone exchanges with nosy operators are unfortunately things of the past (unless you’re in the business of heavy crime) you don’t really need the Cadillac of scanner radios to hear what’s going on in the neighbourhood – a simple baby monitor will suffice.
While baby monitors are a relatively new invention, the common audio rule “analog beats digital” applies to them too. This is mainly because digital units have a bad habit of scrambling the signal, thus seriously limiting the free spread of information.

Things move up to another level of excitement when eavesdropping is unintentional. My friends living near a busy road often enjoy brief but eloquent truck driver conversations. None of their neighbors seem to have wireless phones, which is a bit of shame as phones and baby monitors commonly use the same transmitting frequencies.

People living next door can live very interesting lives: one woman’s monitor picked up a call where her neighbour confessed stealing beer by hiding it in her son’s stroller and smoking crack among other things. Sometimes you don’t need anything but the right timing and a dose of imagination, like the woman who was woken up by a strange and haunting voice calling repeatedly, “wake up, wake up, wake up…”
It took her some time to realize that the ghost was in fact the neighbour on the monitor, trying to wake her son.

For maximum monitor fun-o-rama one should live by interesting locations such as airports, government buildings (preferably military-related) and mental wards. Imagine the surprised joy of the pilots in aircraft making their way to Britain’s Luton airport when they started getting infant squealing instead of landing instructions on their radio – “I’ve heard of child labour but this is simply ridiculous!”

The door can also swing both ways, as was case where a couple with a young child living next to hostel for adults with learning difficulties. One resident was prone to have seizures followed by violent outbursts in the middle of the night, and naturally one of the staff came up with the idea of using a baby monitor to keep check on him.
The result was a mutually effective succession of fright nights where child’s crying and adult screams were consistently sent to wrong receivers. Just before calling a priest for the act of exorcism the couple happened to bring the subject up with one of the hostel workers…
must have been quite a relief to both the parties.

The reason for the aforementioned incidents, and many similar ones, is that authorities do their best to severely restrict the number of transmitting frequencies available for commercial use.

In addition to that the general policy seems to be that The Man should hear us but we shouldn’t hear him. For example the Pentagon is doing its best to stop secrets from leaking out. Since 2001 workers in classified meeting areas aren’t allowed to use wireless devices unless they disable their transmission capabilities. In the Pentagon’s case there might actually be something very very sinister they’re desperate to hide.

Luckily when even the best electronic tools fail there is still the most powerful weapon on earth left to resort to. Yes, I’m talking about imagination. Back in 1967 a Yippie activist Abbie Hoffman and his merry bunch found out that there’s actually a demon of war trapped inside the Pentagon. Abbie figured if the reason for a war you’re fighting and losing overseas is an evil spirit instead of the usual foreign politics gone terribly wrong, people should at least know about it. But how on earth would he get the authorities to confirm he knew the truth?

The solution was simple yet brilliant: he applied for an official permission for 50,000 people to levitate the Pentagon to 300 feet in order to free the demon. Would The Man fall for it? The surprising answer was ‘yes’, though the official granting of permission allowed only a modest ten foot rise.

Sadly The Man, as usual, got the last laugh. Damn hippies were too stoned to understand the official acknowledgement of the demon; instead everyone went crazy about the levitation part: talk about missing the point! The last time I checked the Pentagon (and its contents) it was still resting firmly on the ground and the US marines get to see the world. A lot.

Right click here to save a sample of baby monitor action.

Gallery – Matt Sewell

This month we greet the summer with the charming handiwork of street-artist and illustrator Matt Sewell. (more…)