PHIL ATHERTON - POET IN THE PUB

A tucked away pub, bare of all guests, is the locale for this DVD showcase of a local poetical outsider spewing his always insightful, sometimes distasteful puke for all lugs that are ready to be pricked. It is an irritating rash of worded rhythm that wraps around itself a little way too often but has many a composite to chuckle along with and to further ponder.

What we basically get here is an old punker, who likes a tipple and to toss around the odd word or two, spouting his stuff in alcohol isolation to the wonderment of the fortunate/unfortunate onlooker. The DVD comes in 3 main sections the first of which is a fairly fine batch of lyrical constructs that deal with such topics as bad breath, mass murder and the everyday irritations we all want to solve. The guy at the fore proves himself to be a dab hand at the old rhyming game and manipulates his words with natural aplomb and unrehearsed amateurism. It is a likeable batch and Mr Atherton comes across as a right old fuckin' comic you would love to share a beer (or two) with. 'Out Takes' next and the usual nonsense and then another batch of odes this time slightly leaning towards the cruder aspect of things with 'Pile Drivel', 'Finger Food' and 'Knickerless Wind Chill' leaving little to the imagination. The cute touches and sublime delivery keep things just above board however and help hold up the pleasure factor (non sexually of course). The interview that follows is an insight into a knowledgeable chap who speaks his mind and again we have a charming noodle to warm to. Then comes the full on, balls out smut and this is where the DVD goes awry. Too cheap, too obvious, too lowbrow for a man of talent and I can't help feeling that our dittified, drifting dude is selling himself short by using raped and ragged tactics many easy riders cop on to. I have heard all this, seen it, lived it and yet many (mostly inebriated and fans of Chubby Brown) will lap it up. Each to their own but the shelf life of this latter end outpouring is surely not as long as previous efforts - hey ho and saying that, if this is punk, then boundaries are always going to be pushed.

PUNK LIVES - STREETPUNK THE MOVIE

A tale of what it was like to be a punky dude in and around 1997 and that embryonic time when the scene, after years of being on its arse, decided to wake up and get moving again (with more than a little help from the HITS crew). This DVD captures the viewpoints of many, the gigs that were going on (most noteworthy for the masses that is) and the bands on the road. Some things seem like yesterday, some things still look fresh, some patterns of thinking are still the same, the scene in general had, and still has, a lot to learn.

In 97' I recall many good gutter bands rolling around the rhythmic arena and yet standing in the shadow of the nostalgia soaked masses who were generally looking the other way. These thoughts are backed up here when the Sex Pistols reunion gig, London Punks Picnic and Morecambe showcase are wandered through and the whole shebang looks absorbed with what has been rather than what should come. Everyone spills out the usual drunken statements and seems in it for the social side rather than the rebellious and sonic - to this day we suffer and things are mostly as they were - alas I digress already but I hope the point has been made. The film though has many fine points and indeed gives us footage of some darn good minstrels whacking out their din. Airbomb are a pinnacle for me as I always thought they were one of the best, and most overlooked, bands out there and they really kicked arse with their tunes - never mind! The footage of band action is interspersed with punked gatherings that see us come face to face with inebriation, slurred intent and blurred focus - fuck - this lot do themselves no favours. There are a few good wafflers though and a few faces I know who say their piece most coherently and help put some validity into a scene that should be a status rather than a circus. Nowt wrong with a good piss up for sure (I should know as the old QC has caused much mayhem) but the balance between the thinker and the follower is too out of kilter and what we end up with is a trip down memory lane many will indulge in just to say 'ooh look there's me', 'look how hammered I am' or 'I was there' (like I say some things never change). As a music fan though and a regular DIY 'erbert I thoroughly enjoyed this with its many highs that I will play and play again and the general ambience I know only too well.