Notting Hill Diary

A unicycle

A word of warning to gentlemen unicyclists

As I attempt to master riding my unicycle around the (currently festive) streets of Notting Hill, I learned a very important lesson that none of the youtube tutorials tell you about. If like me, you value your as yet unconceived offspring, take especial care with, shall we say, product placement while mounting your chosen form of novelty transport.

I don’t think I’m going to be able to sit straight for the rest of the day. Have a happy Carnival!

Absolutely fantastic! My assertion that Hawkwind may not be entirely responsible for the birth of punk seems to have sparked something of an argument in the comments section of that article.

I haven’t experienced anything like it since about 1979¹, which as far as I can recall was probably the last time you could get beaten up for liking the wrong kind of music.

Anyway, some of the comments included, with varying degrees of grammatical accuracy, suggestions that I might “not know what [I am] talking about” and urge me to “do some research” lest I make a “fool of [myself] again”. So in that spirit I’ve done my research and have come to the conclusion that, yes lads, without Hawkwind punk would never have happened. I present the evidence in these two photos below:

¹Not too long after 1979 pop music (by which I generically mean pop/rock etc) finally lost one of the main reasons for its existence, which was, purely and simply, to annoy your parents. Those who achieved adulthood around that date were the last generation whose parents couldn’t stand the music they liked.

Sixteen

Last year I wrote about and was lucky enough to attend “The Garden”, a play whose stage was a corner of Little Wormwood Scrubbs. Wifey and I enjoyed it very much and I’m only too happy to bring to your attention SPID’s current production, “Sixteen”.

Now in its 10th year, SPID (Specially Produced, Innovatively Directed) specialise in choosing unusual stage settings to engage people with neglected environments and this one takes place at Kensal House Estate in Ladbroke Grove.¹.

From the press release: “It’s sixteen years since October was born into a squat. Now that everything’s legal, she’s desperate to celebrate. But the locals are suspicious of her bruises; is this a party or a cover up?

“Sixteen, as with all of SPID’s productions is written by the company’s’ Artistic Director, Helena Thompson. She has also collaborated with Shunt and Rotozaza and wrote the play whilst on the National Theatre’s writer’s attachment scheme.”.

Unfortunately I’ve been too busy this year with band related activities to get to see the show and I apologise heartily to SPID for being so slow off the mark in writing about it too. Here, nonetheless, are the details:

LISTINGS INFORMATION

For further press information and images call Martin Shippen on 020 8968 1943 / 07956 879165 or e-mail m.shippen@virgin.net

¹That’s of particular interest to me, because I believe I’m right in saying that it was from that estate that bottles rained down on us at the end of last year’s Carnival.

Krysten surveys a suspicious damp patch on the ceiling

Somewhat off-topic, but with a tenuous link, On the evening of the same day that Rotten Hill Gang play Carnival, Monday August 31, the première of the movie “The Descent Part 2″ takes place in Leicester Square,

What’s the tenuous link? Well one of our two singers, Krysten Cummings, is in that movie and as a consequence will have to dash off straight after our set to get changed somewhere and go to the première.

I don’t know too much about the movie first hand, aside from he fact that she was unavailable to sing for us for several weeks a few months back (our other singer Alexia Collen filled the spaces admirably, taking the lead on Krysten’s songs as well as her own), so I’ll just be lazy and quote from the press bumpf:

“The Descent - Part 2″ continues the story of Sarah, who as the only survivor of an all-female caving expedition gone horrifically wrong, suffers severe psychological trauma. Unable to speak, she accompanies a rescue team back to the cave she has just emerged from, but events once again take a sinister turn.”

So now you know.

That lovely Gaz Mayall has once again asked Rotten Hill Gang to play on his Gaz’s Rockin’ Blues stage on Talbot Road at Carnival

Quite why I’m not sure, because his theme this year is Cuba, while we remain resolutely Dickensian, but no matter, I’m certainly not complaining. Last year was great fun and I’m sure this year will be, plus our drummer Arran will actually get to play this time.

We’ll be on at 2pm. Mick will be playing with us. Not to ruin the surprise, but I just have an inkling that we’ll be playing Should I Say or Should I Go at the end.

Here’s a nice picture of the band. By the way I still don’t really know whether we’re “Rotten Hill Gang” or “The Rotten Hill Gang”. I’m going without the definite article for now. Any thoughts anyone?

A nice picture of Rotten Hill Gang. Left to right: Mick Jones (Guitar - not really in the band ), Arran Ness (Drums), Jimmy Raygun (Rap), Redskin (Rap), Krysten Cummings (Vocals), Alexia Collen (Vocals), Andre Shapps (Guitar), Gary Stonadge (Bass) - photo by the wonderful John Gladdy

After a few wonderful weeks, Mick’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Public Library is finally closing tomorrow.

Nick Reynolds and Viv Albertine thinking meaningful things at each other in the R ‘n’ R Library’s studio

We’ve had some great times there and made some new friends. Rotten Hill Gang played there last night (and thanks to Strummerville for having us) and various members of the band have been involved in a couple of the many recording sessions they had up there in the impromptu studio. One for Ronnie Biggs tune written my Gaz Mayall and Mick¹ and another this week with the Slits’ guitarist Viv Albertine, who I’d never met before, but was thoroughly lovely.

The amiable Ade Sabini, who has been looking after the place, has made a film about it, somewhat in celebration and somewhat commiseration, that I failed to see this afternoon because I was off teaching our new recruit, Gus Robertson, some Rotten Hill Guitar parts².

So all the stuff will now go back to the bunker. There are vague plans and discussions taking place about what to do with it next. One suggestion is for a shop/gallery and that was really Mick’s original idea that he’s been nursing for years.

There’ll never be another library like this and there probably shouldn’t be, because to try to do it again in exactly that way it would be like trying to recreate a great holiday. It can’t be done. Actually I hope it can …

¹It obviously worked because 2 days later he was freed, although where that leaves Gaz’s pile of “Free Ronnie Biggs” t-shirts in unclear.
²Actually teaching is a grossly unfair term. Gus is an excellent guitarist who can figure everything out for himself. We just needed to work out who’s going to play what.

“And another thing!” Mr Angry of W11

OK this isn’t strictly a Notting Hill thing, but just next door in Hammersmith & Fulham around Shepherd’s Bush the parking restrictions were changed over night to include, among other things, no parking on Sundays. That alone catches a lot of people out, but it’s far from the biggest problem.

That award goes to a combination of the complicated rules themselves and the way the sign is worded. It starts off by appearing to suggest one thing, then says another by the time you’ve read the bottom, which is in a different section. That alone would be enough, but yet another problem is that when you’re driving past it’s dangerous to have to read the sign in the first place and the longer it takes to read and more difficult it is to comprehend the more dangerous it is. Most people, sensibly, try to take in the information as quickly as possible.

That leads them to pay attention to the bit it’s easy to see, assume it’s OK to park for free between 2pm and 4pm or after 6:30pm and get a ticket. On any given Sunday it’s now completely normal to see entire streets full of parked cars being given tickets during the afternoon. That’s nothing less than an almost wilful and definitely knowing attempt to catch drivers out.

After all if the idea was simply to prevent people from parking there at the wrong times they’d display the information more clearly and/or simplify it to start with.

Boris mulls over a 2,000 year “Job well done!”

In a move described as “Inevitable one day”, London’s flamboyant Mayor, Boris Johnson, announced that “London is now complete” and “as of Tuesday, September 1 2009 there will be no more need for the roadworks, building sites or other infrastructure change related hindrances that have blighted the lives of Londoners for centuries”.

“Since the Romans first settled here over 2,000 years ago our great city has been under constant construction”, he continued, “but today I am happy to announce that the work is complete and that cranes will no longer be a feature of our skyline because, well, they’ve finished everything!

“Londoners can pat themselves on the back and congratulate themselves that their two millennia of hard work means that the building industry can finally close up its offices.” he boyishly smirked.

“It is done! Finished!”, he exclaimed, jiggling his handsome mop of blonde hair in time to emphasise each point, “A fait accompli!” and then something in Latin which nobody really understood.

Johnson went on to explain that “People who come from cities that aren’t London smell funny and have one leg longer than the other.”, demonstrating the wry wit that has made him a popular figure across the nation.

The sinister road markings. What do they mean?

A warning to anyone living in London. Beware the pretty coloured paint markings on the roads or pavements near where you live, work or simply pass, for they presage gloom. Those innocuous looking dabs of paint are actually mystical signs that foretell doom. You life is about to be turned upside down for anything between a few days and a few weeks. For those innocent and pretty dashes are harbingers of the misery that is the ongoing effort to … well … do something to the gas supply I think.

Some parts of London that are still reeling from the turmoil caused by the roads being dug up to replace the water mains are again being subjected to the inconvenience of partially blocked off roads guarded by the dreaded temporary traffic lights.

My moustache

You might think that a guy with a moustache like mine would be only too happy to return to a time when traffic moved this slowly (personally I’d like to see a man with a flag walking in front of each vehicle), but the biggest problem is the unthinking way in which these roadworks have been implemented. For the past year or more the normally quiet streets of Notting Hill have been subjected to a series of these traffic control measures whose cycles are set at anything up to 10 minutes, that being 5 minutes each way. That’s a ridiculous amount of time to wait at a red light during which one car ambles in the opposite direction.

A singular portent of doom? Signals from an alien culture?

The situation is even worse if there is one or more side streets along the length of the obstruction. Lights are placed at the junctions, each with its own additional 5 minute delay. Yes, you seriously can wait up to 15 minutes to be aloud to travel the 50 or so yards of obstructed road. Bloody hell I’m starting to sound like Clarkson here. It’ll be stupid comments about foreigners next!

But you can’t blame a guy for not taking these things too seriously on a bike. In the past few months I’ve become an expert at jumping the kerb, riding on pavements and, when all else fails, simply jumping the lights. I’ve done it several times in front of cops, so it’s a fair bet that it’ll never be a problem. In any any if it’s good enough for Cameron …

Mick Jones’ Rock & Roll Library

Ideally you might have thought I’d be a bit more on the ball with this one and written about it before the world at large, but I’ve found it a difficult subject to approach, probably because I’ve been tripping over most of this junk for the best part of the last 25 years or more.

Mick is an unbelievable hoarder. On tour he’d be just as likely to buy some old piece of tat from a truck stop as he would a rare comic or record. The most amazing thing though is the condition in which he’s kept everything.

The library either gives a fascinating set of snapshots of popular culture of the last 30 odd years, or an insite into the bizarre psyche of a lifelong hoarder. You decide. I’m just as bad by the way, but I’m capable of keeping it all intact for very long. Plus I’m not Mick Jones, so nobody would be interested in seeing it. That’s why I’m overjoyed to note that a few items of mine that I thought I’d seen the last of years ago have turned up there.

Room after room of fascinating artifacts greet the visitor. At first they seem random, but soon a theme emerges. A time line of sorts is implied by the presence of items from or representing each of Mick’s bands, of which my current favourite must be a note from Joe scrawled on Royalton hotel notepaper. “Alright Mick, I give up. Call me later. Joe - 4:15pm” (sadly by the time I got back there with my camera phone it had disappeared).

A makeshift recording studio has been installed with the aim of documenting bands in anyway vaguely associated with Strummerville. It’s probably the only studio in the World who’s atmosphere is improved by the constant quiet rumble of cars running overhead on the Westway. By the way Rotten Hill Gang will be playing outside, under the Westway, on August 21, along with Tarus Trakker and Carbon Silicon.

I have many more photos which I’ll post at some point, for the benefit of those unable to get there themselves, but for those in or willing to travel to the area, pop in. It’s free and a convenient stop off point right by of the busiest part of Portobello road Market.

To catch this wonderful slice of contemporary history, head to 2 Acklam Road, (under the Westway where it crosses Portobello Road and above El Camino) Wednesays to Saturdays, 11am to 7pm until August 23.

Mick Jones and Gaz Mayall enjoy an instrospective moment in the studio area