It’s a scientific
fact that Chemotherapy patients’ hair falls out because; what with the
enormously complex goings-on in their body, God hasn’t got enough memory to
render it. Similarly singers, despite their Genius, are so preoccupied with
aurally manifesting the metaphysical, that they often rely on a secondary brain
to tackle the hurly burly of the business we call ‘show’.
Talent alone is
all good and well, but if that isn’t exploited to the maximum and monetised,
it’s nothing. The Music Manager is the true artist at work, the conduit through
which God speaks to us. Yet he gives himself selflessly to the cause of his
client, knowing that the greatest of successes could result only in his
replacement.
There’s a scene
in a film which perfectly expresses the metaphor I’m looking for, but I haven’t
seen it, so I’ll make one up:
We had the good
fortune to go tete-a-tete with Paul Harrison, Manager of up and coming
Salfordian chanteuese Ren
Harvieu, who was possibly upset at Sir Ian Morgan’s Heron-Centric grading
scale, and its application to Ren’s new single ‘Through The night’ which
yielded only 5 Herons. Though most likely he was enraged by Sir Ian’s
dissection of the ludicrously grandiose Bio he had written for her, seeing it
as a brazen attack on his man(ager)hood. Given the fate outlined in that excerpt from the screenplay for 'SWEFFORD TAFT: FUTURE SQUAD', we expected the snarling back-alley savagery of a cornered and cornholed Honey Badger, but never could we have reckoned on the cerebral subterfuge that ensued...
The night the article was published, a man called ‘Paulo’ contacted us, someone who coincidentally shares the same email
address of ‘Paul Harrison, Manager of Ren Harvieu’ (We found this out by having
our team of haxxors run said email address through a computer-tool called
‘Google’). Our correspondence was as follows:
Hello,
I'm putting a
piece together about the northwest's best and realest
blogs/websites/zines
and think The Mancunia should be featured for it's
intelligent,
articulate and biting writing.
Would you guys
be up for an interview?
*According to Urban Dictionary
‘Realest’ is a real word:
Were we in danger
of inadvertently starting a Trans-Irwell turf war with Salford’s Suge Knight?Meanwhile, in the Twitterverse, Ren Harvieu herself was applying her own Avian grading system to Sir Ian's review (we got 1 duck.).
to Paulo Jan 31
Dear
Phallus2000,
How's it going,
y'alright cock?
Would love to
do a meet-up, give you the skinny on our mission. We've been languishing out
here in the recognition-wilderness, for too long. Thanks for inviting us in
from the cold, you can give yourself a little pat on the back for that.
What I was
thinking is our local, Billy Greens in Collyhurst. I know the manager, and if
we get in for about 10:30, he'll give us some time alone while the bar keeps
ticking over.
It's funny you
should write as this time, call it serendipity if you will; we were just
talking about writing an exposé on the formidable intellect of music managers.
Let us know
what's good for you.
The Mancunia
To which Paulo (or
PAUL HARRISON, as his email identified him) replied…
Paul Harrison paullus2000@hotmail.com Feb
1
Thanks for
getting back to me.
That sounds good.
In order to prep
could you give me a little background on your writers please? Age/town/musical
tastes/writing inspirations/a short background please?
Thanks
The Mancunia
to Paulo
Hello.
Herein lies the information procured on your behalf to assist the coverage of our magnificent website.
Call us silly geese if you will, but for one bonkers moment, we forgot to ask which publication you're writing for?
I assume whatever the name of your publication, its efforts are sterling, and its penmanship renowned globally, I'm sure.
If we failed to provide you with the information you require, we are always available via email.
Mancdaciously yours,
The Mancunia
DREW FOLEY
Currently entrenched in his bunker near Moss Side, a suburb of
Manchester, Drew Foley, born in 1984, does not fit the mould of the
normal Mancunian, mainly because he isn’t from Manchester, he just found
himself here.
A
youth spent with a keen interest in public affairs and learning card
tricks set the young Drew up for high school where academic achievement
was put aside in the quest for musical pleasure. Passions for political
literature, as well as religious opinion sat side by side with stand up
comedy and professional wrestling. He is also the inventor of his own
professional wrestling finishing move, The ‘Original Sin’
Thinking
that the fun had gone out of music, and sick of Britpop albums with
only one decent energetic song surrounded by multitudes of ballady
acoustic pap, Drew searched for something else, focusing himself on the Southern California
punk scene and found renewed passion for lyrics and leftism. Brief
flirtations with many other genres followed before Drew settled on the
smorgasbord of musical loves and loathes, and played his way through a
multitude of different bands.
In
finding music, Drew found himself and one of the great loves of his
life, drinking copious amounts of Real Ale and writing about beer
experiences for several local CAMRA publications and websites. Working
various customer facing jobs selling just about anything to support
himself, Drew also learned to loathe the corporate machines he worked
for and enjoyed surreptitiously undermining their efforts by sending
letters disguised as disgruntled customers to newspapers and radio
stations.
As
a man, Drew likes statistics and lists and will often be found debating
his top ten anythings, which will change depending on his blood alcohol
level. He also appreciates people with opinions and is never shy at
offering his. If you want to buy him a drink, a dark ale or a strong IPA
will suffice, Marstons Old Empire is the obvious choice, although he'll
accept a Fullers ESB.
KATHLEEN SAROS
Kathleen Saros - age 32.
Brought up in Peel Hall, now finds herself meandering around the outskirts of the city, eventually calling Longsight her home.
Kathleen spent 3 years studying politics and creative writing at Manchester Met, and it was here that she decided that ultimately, she wanted no real part in any occupation stemming from either of these subjects.
Instead, she spent the following 5 years after her degree working on and off for various charitable causes. Many charity events entailed the unexpected use of photography, and it was during this period her love for photography grew.
In 2007, after receiving an open-invitation from her Aunt in Maine, USA (whom was a writer herself, and Kathleen's main inspiration since childhood) Kath decided to up-sticks and soar over the shimmering Atlantic to experience America for herself. This is where Kathleen's real voyage of self-discovery began.
The people and surroundings of the small town of Cabot Cove were a dazzling contrast to her home town of Peel Hall; it was beautiful, serene and adjacent to the coast. Faring well in her new laid-back lifestyle, the art of photography came even more naturally to Kathleen, winning several notable prizes for her landscape photography, as well as portraits of local characters she befriended during her time there. Her proudest moment was receiving 1st prize in the highly-competitive "Amos Tupper Foundation" annual photographic competition.
After 2 years of traveling and photographing the local vicinity of Maine, Kath knew something was a-miss. As much as she loved the sleepy harbor of the cove, spending warm summer starlit nights exploring the ruins of Whipstaff Manor in the local village of Friendship and whiling-away her mornings reading the "dailies" with an all-American cup of Joe amongst the locals in the "Quality Café" - the hustle and bustle of Manchester swirled-still, deep within her heart.
Here we can skip forward to late 2010. Kathleen waved farewell (but not goodbye) to Cabot Cove, taking with her the photographic memories and writing inspiration once again granted by her Aunt. Kathleen found a small den she could call home, and took upon ingratiating herself back into the Manchester arts scene.
Kathleen can't name a top 10 of artists, books or films, as she feels there are too many she holds equally precious, but says the most important and moving song, lyrically, is "The Greatest Love of All", and believes it should be commandeered by the educational system as an everyday "modern hymn" to teach children the importance of strength of character and self-worth.
Brought up in Peel Hall, now finds herself meandering around the outskirts of the city, eventually calling Longsight her home.
Kathleen spent 3 years studying politics and creative writing at Manchester Met, and it was here that she decided that ultimately, she wanted no real part in any occupation stemming from either of these subjects.
Instead, she spent the following 5 years after her degree working on and off for various charitable causes. Many charity events entailed the unexpected use of photography, and it was during this period her love for photography grew.
In 2007, after receiving an open-invitation from her Aunt in Maine, USA (whom was a writer herself, and Kathleen's main inspiration since childhood) Kath decided to up-sticks and soar over the shimmering Atlantic to experience America for herself. This is where Kathleen's real voyage of self-discovery began.
The people and surroundings of the small town of Cabot Cove were a dazzling contrast to her home town of Peel Hall; it was beautiful, serene and adjacent to the coast. Faring well in her new laid-back lifestyle, the art of photography came even more naturally to Kathleen, winning several notable prizes for her landscape photography, as well as portraits of local characters she befriended during her time there. Her proudest moment was receiving 1st prize in the highly-competitive "Amos Tupper Foundation" annual photographic competition.
After 2 years of traveling and photographing the local vicinity of Maine, Kath knew something was a-miss. As much as she loved the sleepy harbor of the cove, spending warm summer starlit nights exploring the ruins of Whipstaff Manor in the local village of Friendship and whiling-away her mornings reading the "dailies" with an all-American cup of Joe amongst the locals in the "Quality Café" - the hustle and bustle of Manchester swirled-still, deep within her heart.
Here we can skip forward to late 2010. Kathleen waved farewell (but not goodbye) to Cabot Cove, taking with her the photographic memories and writing inspiration once again granted by her Aunt. Kathleen found a small den she could call home, and took upon ingratiating herself back into the Manchester arts scene.
Kathleen can't name a top 10 of artists, books or films, as she feels there are too many she holds equally precious, but says the most important and moving song, lyrically, is "The Greatest Love of All", and believes it should be commandeered by the educational system as an everyday "modern hymn" to teach children the importance of strength of character and self-worth.
IAN MORGAN
Ian Morgan, 36, is an avid golfer, an avid Tonbridge Angels
supporter, an avid 1960's music lover, and he likes cinema films, such
as E.T. The extraterrestrial and the Jaws “quadrilogy”. He lives in
Tonbridge with his wife, Mary Morgan-Tonbridge (48), his two sons, Adam
and Vivian (both 6), and a small, mean-spirited cat-type animal. The
cat-type animal is called Chestnut. Nobody knows how old Chestnut is.Since the age of about 9, with a brief interlude between the ages of 15-22, Ian has been a fan of music. Right now, he can't stop listening to Jack Off Jill, Flyleaf, Exilia, Otep, BarlowGirl, Emilie Autumn, Tristania, The Divine Madness, Eyes Set to Kill...and other 1960's stuff like that. About those bands and artists, he is avid.
Two years ago, Ian was diagnosed with intestinal worms. He was forced to quit his job – he worked as a sewerman – and into an involuntary convalescence, where he discovered literature. Among his literary heroes, he counts the controversial Jeffrey Archer, the enigmatic Dan Brown, and the a bit hit-and-miss William Shakespeare.
With the intestinal worm colony in his gut shrunken down to a few hardened individuals, Ian looks to the future. The future is yours, Ian. Fly, Ian. Fly.
Fly.
CHESTER WHELKS
Born St Mary's Hospital, May 4th, 1979 (the Day Margaret Thatcher seized the office of Prime Minister)
Swefford "Chester Whelks" Taft caught 'the Midnight Disease' as an infant: Enthralled by the literary greats (Stevenson, Tolkien, Twain) his Trade Unionist father would relentlessly read to tire his crepuscular mind into a whimsical sleep, he displayed a nascent wordplay far predating the ability to read.
A precocious child, the young Swefford often found it hard to fit in. Thought of as a savant by many of his teachers, and frustrated at the remedial curriculum, he would often become disruptive, resulting in frequent exclusions from the classroom.
Taft found his calling when, attending the Radio One Road Show's call at the G-Mex in 1995, his LSD flavoured fury led him to throw a can of Tango at a member of Boyband MN8 while they mimed 'I've Got A Little Something For You'. This anger spilled over into a feverishly written review, which to his surprise was accepted for publication in Melody Maker, sparking a new and enduring interest in Music Journalism.
He has been criticised for his over-reliance on alliteration, which he swats away, describing it as a necessary evolution of his thought process, or "Spontaneous Narrative Parkour" (SNP). The rhymes, always relevant - born of the subconscious - supply a momentary foothold for the one way rock-hop he's blindly set out upon.
Chester Whelks currently writes for various websites on both sides of the Atlantic.
Swefford "Chester Whelks" Taft caught 'the Midnight Disease' as an infant: Enthralled by the literary greats (Stevenson, Tolkien, Twain) his Trade Unionist father would relentlessly read to tire his crepuscular mind into a whimsical sleep, he displayed a nascent wordplay far predating the ability to read.
A precocious child, the young Swefford often found it hard to fit in. Thought of as a savant by many of his teachers, and frustrated at the remedial curriculum, he would often become disruptive, resulting in frequent exclusions from the classroom.
Taft found his calling when, attending the Radio One Road Show's call at the G-Mex in 1995, his LSD flavoured fury led him to throw a can of Tango at a member of Boyband MN8 while they mimed 'I've Got A Little Something For You'. This anger spilled over into a feverishly written review, which to his surprise was accepted for publication in Melody Maker, sparking a new and enduring interest in Music Journalism.
He has been criticised for his over-reliance on alliteration, which he swats away, describing it as a necessary evolution of his thought process, or "Spontaneous Narrative Parkour" (SNP). The rhymes, always relevant - born of the subconscious - supply a momentary foothold for the one way rock-hop he's blindly set out upon.
Chester Whelks currently writes for various websites on both sides of the Atlantic.
No comments:
Post a Comment