George Pringle

Hot Fire! Porter Reports from The Great Escape and has a chat with George Pringle.

A Letter From God To Man

Thirteen days ago we found out we’d submitted the winning pitch for Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip’s new video. Tomorrow, with all going well and Zeus gazing down upon us with benevolent eyes, we’ll hand in the definitive article. For the sake of explicitness that’s a two week turnaround, which isn’t a lot of time on anyones calender. I was chatting with a mate of mine who makes videos for the Kaiser Chefs and the like, and he admitted that two weeks is about the amount of time it takes him to download the MP3 of whatever song it is he’s about to make a video for- with that in mind I hope you can appreciate the feeling of accomplishment I’m carrying around with me at the moment, this being my first attempt at playing producer. (If you can’t appreciate the feeling, starve yourself for a fortnight then go and eat three Lamb Jalfrezi’s and wash them down with a half pint of Brandy a piece…that’s as close as you’re gonna get I reckon).

As soon as we get the green card from Sunday Best I’ll have the brand new video for ‘A Letter From God To Man’ up here on the Porter Report. Until then, here’s some snaps that Red Fash took on location.

We introduce our young protagonist.

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Young Knives Part 2

Here’s the second slice of acoustic performance courtesy of Henry, Oliver and Mr House Of Lords… furthermore known to the world as The Young Knives. Who said the first cut was the deepest?

The Futureheads

Another dollop of wallop from this years Great Escape, this time with Barry Hyde from The Futureheads. This episode of The Porter Report would not have been possible without the help of our American pen-pals at Boing Boing TV.

Young Knives Part 1

Courtesy of our friends across the pond, here’s the first of two Porter Reports featuring the Young Knives. This episode was originally broadcast on Boing Boing TV.

An Invisible Touch

The news was met with dewy eyes and much contrition: a light went out forever as Phil Collins announced his retirement from music, starting with immediate effect. Like Leaded Petrol and Michael Barrymore, the Big PC has struggled to find a relevancy in the digital age; outmoded and irrelevant he has spent the past few years driving his massive yacht around Lake Geneva, polishing his head and counting his Nazi Gold, unable to recapture the greatness that gave the world such hits as the vaguely menacing ‘Billy, Don’t Loose That Number’, the haunting meditation on tramp banging ‘Another Day In Paradise’ and my personal favourite Su Su Sudio (in which our snatch-eyed protagonist atones for his inadequacies as a Father with some really shit hot flam work). Art-Rock Drum Twat turned reclusive millionaire Collins, who won the hearts of millions with his borderline rapey performance in Buster, has avowed to spend his pudding years building the worlds largest collection of memorabilia from The Alamo. As Littlejohn would scoff, you really couldn’t make it up.

As sad as the news may have been, it wasn’t going to stop me from living La Vida Russy with a Bank Holiday on the horizon, so with best brogue forward I wiped my peepers and took myself uptown to watch a band and nurse a scoop or two of the black stuff. Quite fortuitously I ended up at the Scruffy Bird night at The Star of Bethnal Green, the musical distraction laid on courtesy of The Invisible.

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“It’s like therapy, but much, much cheaper!”

As promised, here’s the interview with Alexander G Muertos that really should’ve accompanied the session posted below. Drums please…

It was only on walking into a creche that I realised I was in the wrong place all together. Though at the time I’d yet to meet Alexander G Muertos in the flesh, I knew the following to be true: he was a man in his twenties, with a liberal daubing of jailhouse tats and more than likely he would be behind or around a guitar. The middle aged woman who opened the door matched none of these descriptions, so with more than a couple of ‘beg yer pardons’ I made good with my legs and disappeared double pronto. A quick phone call confirmed that I was in the wrong part of West London altogether, and should actually be in Westbourne Grove. Thirty-five minutes later I was.

Shortly after introducing myself I was presented with a steaming brew of a strong brown temperament, the kind you only find in recording studios and building sites. I wolfed it down like the asbestos throated guzzler I am and got on with the business of interviewing Mr Muertos, who although cheerful (a trademark characteristic I l was soon to learn) was reasonably bleary in the eye department

Thanks to a rowdy flatmate, I didn’t get much sleep last night. She piled back with a load of mates at god knows what time, so I’ve spent the morning sleeping on that sofa over there. I’m normally bright as a button, but today’s been a bit of a struggle. As that may be, everyone else in the studio seemed full of beans: the unmistakable whiff of enthusiasm hung heavy in the air like fairground candyfloss and as they listened through playbacks it soon became apparent why.
‘They’re a really great bunch’, said Al of the team he’d been working with for the previous couple of months, ‘completely down to earth, what you see is what you get y’know? I’ve never written with other people or worked this intensely with other people, so I was concerned at first, ‘cus I’m a right miserable bastard!’ The size of the laugh that followed made me suspect otherwise.

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Mark E. Smith

“I take a drink from time to time, but I’m from a heavy drinking family. I mean, if you compare me to the rest of the males in my family, they’re mostly dead!”

Ever the pragmatist, Mark E. Smith discusses dipsomania in an interview with Mark Lawson.

Hirsuit Brutes with Fruity Loops

Replete with the comedic timing of The Two Ronnies, the musical nouse of The Pet Shop Boys and the sartorial flair of Steptoe & Son, Dan Le Sac and Scroobius Pip can hold their mesh-backed heads up high and enter in to that illustrious club of Great British Twosomes.

What began with a chance meeting on the sordid streets of Camden Town has, over the past year, blossomed into something I’d tentatively call a friendship. Well, we’re friends enough that I’ve just got a text from the Bearded Bard himself imploring me to acquire a copy of their new single- and in these times of digital dalliances and heightened security, that’s probably as close to friendship as I like to get, to be honest – I’ve popped out on my lunch and done just that, I strongly suggest you do similar.

‘Look For The Woman’ is a mournfully memorable stomper that reflects on the impermanence of Modern Love (Apart from getting you to the church on time, what’s so good about Modern Love anyway?), and features all the exquisite wordplay we’ve come to expect from Essex’s primary advocate of Estuary English. What’s more, his partner in crime proves he’s more than just a pretty face by singing a chorus that’s not so much a hook… it’s a fuckin’ harpoon of a melody!

Not that I imagine you ever would, but please don’t just take my word for it. Pour yourself a Horlicks, slip on some moccasins and have a listen to it: if you don’t like it you’re more than welcome to come round the Porter Cabin and smash my face in.

Alexander G Muertos

Good Night Irene

“There’s 12 bars in Ragtime, and I’ve drunk in every one of ‘em”

Alexander G Muertos
is a good lad. He smokes fags like they’re going out of fashion and plays Blues like he’s bringing it back in. Emerging through the acoustic circuit, the native South Londoner is in the process of recording his debut album, and has been good enough to let us drop by on more than a couple of occasions and shove a camera up his hooter.

Listen through the finished material and you’ll hear influences that range from Stax to Studio One but nothing beats a man on his J’s with a flat cap and a six string, so we talked him in to a quick rendition of an old Leadbelly favourite.

There was an interview as well, but somewhere along the line the microphone must’ve got mixed up with a Mars Bar because, try as we might, we just can’t find the audio! Once my lip reading is up to scratch I’ll transcribe it in it’s entirety. Until then… like the man says:

Enough talking, let’s Yentz already!