Linda Cleary - words&vocals. David Lanni - music&production. Some production Moss Cantrill from Disfunc. Backing vocals Laura Beth Roberts, Jo Forsyth. Film by Alban Roinard.
Etkilendikleri
Patti Smith, PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Lydia Lunch, Nina Hagen, Iggy Pop I lOVE YOU, Gil Scott Heron, The Fall, Blondie...many more...will have to add. Artwise I've been inspired by many painters including Edward Hopper and Ivan Bray Zadock. Directors such as Pedro Almodovar and his film Matador inspired Serial Killer. My work is autobiographical, journalistic or fictional. Politics, world affairs; The Revolution Has Been Televised was written after the New Orleans disaster. Writers such as the Romantic Poets, the Metaphysical poets, the Sufi poets. Emile Zola for social realism...many, many more literary influences but perhaps not directly upon the work.
Get this video and more at MySpace.com
Hi everyone
NEW NEW UBER NEW YES UBER! To view a live performance of Serial Killer (my noir homage to Mr Almodovar's wonderful Matador) Please copy and paste the link:
http://video.google.co.uk/videoplay?docid=-5215485944117903545
Brace yourselves it's rather full on! The original film has been slowed down and monochromed - taking liberties perhaps but it works for the poem
One of my poetry films; La Lupe (see it on this page) was accepted into Berlin Film festival - Zebra Poetry Award 06. The biggest thanks and praises to Alban Roinard who made the film. See the others by following the links or just go to my website www.lindacleary.co.uk and see everything! XXX
Check this out!!!!! Cut and paste the following onto the address bar to see brand video of The Revolution Has Been Televised: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8230266514858468089&pr=goog-sl
For more info on me go to my website: www.lindacleary.co.uk
I'm a performance poet/writer/singer and work with musicians, DJs, film makers and other multi media artists to create new, contemporary work. Some of the work is spoken word with music, some is sung.
We crawl over a bridge of saloon doors, knees and elbows of bleeding forks, blind, screaming through the vertical night, dreaming of the open bed every dripshit is dreaming of. Need for elegance, need for roots are feeding this inner struggle, among corn and lions, over the wide open field of golden hair, waving under a fluoresent plastic storm. Some phrases are made of true flesh, some words just tell stories. The language fixes two ways of life: learning to be born, or learning to obey. Let’s choose not to choose, lets leave the humanity and rejoin the animal. (a rough translation from French...)
Vue d’ici, par delà cette table de soldats où chacun se
regarde sans dire un mot, ressassant une lettre lue, ou à écrire, les mâchoires
creusées par la mastication, chacun profondément détourné des autres et de soi,
dans le vacarme des tanks dont on révise les moteurs, cette construction qui
étire loin ses spirales de béton, ressemble à une arche. Mais plus on
l’observe, plus les surfaces disparaissent au profit des arêtes, éveillant
toutes sortes de pensées violentes, instantanément dispersées, ou amplifiées,
par l’évidence d’être seul.
My music is like a morbidly depressed Tori Amos blended with experimental/tortured cello. Check out my latest blog post on Myspace: She is doing WHAT with bottles?
Join the Unveiled fan club and receive weekly emails containing exclusive and unreleased mp3s, photos, and first draft chapters of my autobiography, Inside the Mirror. http://www.tylean.com
« (illisible) […] ici on économise l’indispensable, la toile
isolante, le fil électrique, les serre-joints, la ficelle, les capotes
[...] et que les mecs continuent d'asperger d’huile solaire au monoï, celui qui
passe vers le boudin de papier-bulles y mettant une giclée, contre l’odeur qui
a rapidement viré, maintenant qu’on y a lancé nos poignards, le monoï s’étant
mélangé au jus fermenté de la carcasse d'agneau dont la masse brillante, la
nuit dernière, sous la lune, n’évoque plus, ce matin, le corps nu de la simili
Marilyn que tu m'as montrée avant mon départ, celle sur la couverture du Club
International de juin 89, avec laquelle tu t'es branlé pour la première fois,
assis dans la salle de bains, un ligne éponge sur la bite, terrifié par le
glaire qui en avait jailli. […] Je t’aime, ta Nini. » (Nu intégral - extrait/en cours)
photo : Emma Hauck (1878 - 1920): Brief an den Ehemann /
Lettre au mari (1909)
Julian Gaskell & his Ragged Trousered Philanthropists will be returning from their tours of the Isles of Scilly and 'The North' to play at The Acorn in Penzance, and the Phoenix in Exeter on 17th and 18th April, respectively. Support on both dates will be amply supplied by their feral folkie friends from Devon 'Bert Miller and the Animal Folk'.
Details:
Friday April 17th JULIAN GASKELL & HIS RAGGED TROUSERED PHILANTHROPISTS …plus BERT MILLER & THE ANIMAL FOLK
ACORN ARTS CENTRE Parade Street, Penzance, Cornwall, TR18 4BU Doors 8. 30pm
A new collection of Comic/Nonsense Verse, For Children, called, ‘Please Do Not Encourage This Nonsense by Purchasing this Book: Poems By Paul H. Tubb’, is available for purchasing.
23 Poems Not about Football, 11 that are about Football and 5 limericks. Paul H. Tubb has put these together, with some illustrations, into a handy book form so that they can be read at anyone’s leisure. Funny Rhyming poems that will delight Children of all ages. Poems about subjects such as Strange Christmas’s, Tone Deaf Dentists and the worlds worst stuntman among others. To learn more, please click on the link below.
A new collection of Comic/Nonsense Verse, For Children, called, ‘Please Do Not Encourage This Nonsense by Purchasing this Book: Poems By Paul H. Tubb’, is available for purchasing.
23 Poems Not about Football, 11 that are about Football and 5 limericks. Paul H. Tubb has put these together, with some illustrations, into a handy book form so that they can be read at anyone’s leisure. Funny Rhyming poems that will delight Children of all ages. Poems about subjects such as Strange Christmas’s, Tone Deaf Dentists and the worlds worst stuntman among others. To learn more, please click on the link below.
The voices never stop around the castle; sometimes they are tender, at summertime, just after a heavy rain, but usually they are cutting like knives. I do not understand why I both fear them and desire them so much. Perhaps it is because pain makes me feel more alive?
A naked messenger is running through the forest, wearing a leather helmet. He finds me lying on the floor, with broken fingers, in front of the heavy door. He looks down at me, opens a huge empty mouth and starts to talk, with tears in his eyes. His message is always the same, “stay on the ground, where you belong to”, and then he attacks me. Once, I tried to rise, while he was assaulting me, protecting my face, and my genitals, which he was trampling with anger. But I missed, and I felt on my knees again, looking at his flaming eyes. At that moment, I understood the sick lie of hope, and I accepted my fate : my childhood will destroy me forever.
