The pub has changed, especially in the cities. Some might say everything changes, but the pub can be a good indicator to see how our relationship with each other in society has altered. In the last few years there has been complete change in the place of the pub, in its meaning and its function. It has nothing to do with superficial changes brought about by fashion, such as furniture design, shapes of glasses, types of drinks and the clothes people wear. A seventeen year old girl or boy on their way to see David Bowie in 1972, wearing crushed velvet flares, could have stopped off in a pub for a pint of lager and lime and were standing in a place of history where they were taking their place among others, some of whom would have fought in the First World War, many in the Second World War. They would converse, maybe not sharing the same immediate interests, but all the same, there would be conversations involving beliefs and sharing one's values and gaining insights into the lives of other people. Yet, the pub had brought them together, and had been doing so for a few hundred years, and those seventeen year olds could well have taken their own children in that same pub for a drink many years later. This inter-mixing of generations and different types had a democracy all of its own, a place away from the confines of ordered society. It was a place where people met their future partners, although sometimes a place of violence and criminal trading, but also a place for celebration, merriment and to remember a departed friend. It was a space to be alone, to take the newspaper or a book and sit by oneself; it was a place of solace. Landlords and landladies had their own distinctive character and this situation had existed for a few hundred years, but that has now changed.

The corporation has entered the high street and also inside the lives of people. The pub is now mostly food orientated, theme based and designed to bring in consumers, get them to spend and get them out the door to get other consumers in. A common sight now is to see a person entering a pub, taking out their ear pieces, check about themselves, see a group of people they had arranged to meet, join them, have a burger and beer that is out of the price range of many, and flick a card or phone at a device that will suck money from that person's bank account. The props and prices are aimed at a qualified class, the man with the evening paper standing alone at the bar has vanished, after a few hundred years, he has gone and with it the mixing and acceptance and learning about other people. The Corporate Self is the name of the pub near me, it's selective and it isn't democratic as it symbolises a society with marked divisions.

 Because of the way publishers are nowadays I'm thinking of self publishing - -  I have written a novel called A Comic Breakdown - what do people think of self publishing?  Here's the synopsis:

James Carolan used to be a stand up comedian but suffered a nervous breakdown after years of estrangement from society. His obsessive thoughts about the state and its control over members of society grew to an extent that his confused reasoning led him to believe that all areas of life were directed by the state, and that the state was using him, in his role as a stand up comedian, to propagate propaganda. Being at odds with others in the field of entertainment he hoped to gain greater insights into the mechanism of state control by working in an area of society that has been affected by conflict in an absolute way.

The character becomes increasingly socially alienated as he recedes further from everyday thoughts and pursuits. He journeys inwardly for safety and introspection, but the concerns that haunt him manifest deep distrust and suspicion of everything and anybody around him to a degree where his paranoia renders him detached and dysfunctional in the society he once had such an observant and sharp critical eye upon. How much of James Carolan’s experience is imaginary is impossible to tell. He believes that it is in the realm of the imagination that the state is intent to manipulate for purposes of maintaining control and they will use all measures at their disposal to do so.

Fulham in a European cup final - when they got to Wembley in 1975 I said to myself, 'anything is possible,' and it changed my approach to all things - but now...
I'm going - I have a ticket and will be travelling on the coach from Craven Cottage on Tuesday 11th May - I just wish my poor old dad was here - he would have said , as he always did when Fulham won (which wasn't very often for years), 'did you hear the score Pete? Fulham have goner mad.' - and he was right.

And talking of 'mad,' the election stuff is filling the tele screen - but what is this that has suddenly overshadowed it all? - politics - people really getting involved in politics - in Athens that is - real passion by people who are saying what we know, 'we are run by thieves' - and the tepid mid-manager Berkshire Hunts bleat, drone and bullshit thier way to a status that gives them massive perks, a lot of money and the chance to steal without having to go to court if caught in the act - mind, I will be voting, for what its worth - the first time for years - there's passion for you.

Book launch for my novel Malayn Swing

Wednesday 24th June 2009 at 6.30 pm
Edgar Wallace Public House, 40 Essex Street
London, WC2R 3JE
(Nearest tube - Temple)

Fooligan's out

Just a few words to say that my book An Unlikely Fooligan is out - if one is interested in finding out more he or she can read a sample from the book on this website - I was addding up my wealth and projected earnings, and if it continues as it has done, and I consolidate all my assets, I would say that in about ten years I would be able to buy a pushbike pump.

Johny Brown - just about the coolest guy in town!

The final blog of the year – not that I regularly write on the website, but here we go. Everybody, or nearly everybody who writes knows how hard it is to get published and find an agent, so I’ve been lucky in having a book published, God’s Lonely men, and another coming out very soon, An Unlikely Fooligan – and hopefully in a few months a work of fiction, Malayan Swing. I was also fortunate enough to be asked by Johny Brown to be a guest on his show, Resonance Radio FM 104; it went out on Friday the 19th of December between 11.30 to 1.30 am.
It was a good evening, Johny organised it so that some of my work was read out by an actress, Tilly and an actor Ben, and the engineer, John, asked me questions about my work and ideas that I have – Inga and Johny, as did everyone else, made me feel at home and relaxed – it was an enjoyable time, no doubt I spoke some nonsense, but it struck me that I hardly ever look at the work I’ve written with anyone, and hearing it read out was interesting for me – so, it was a top night with some good people – check him out, Johny Brown, a chap who remembers his punk background, has good ideas and means well – if there was more of them about 2009 would be a better time for us all boys and girls – Happy Christmas and have a good New Year.

So long Tough Alberto

I don’t add much to the website, which I should do, but here’s an update anyway.
My book God’s lonely Men came out last December and although not being featured in the mainstream media coverage, except for an interview with Dotun Adebayo on Radio Five Live, I have been lucky in having the support that I have. I’ve received quite a few e-mails from people telling me how much they enjoyed the book, people who mostly saw The Lurkers back when Fred, Barney and Deano were in the neighbourhood. I’d like to say thanks very much for your interest and support. I’m going to the punk festival in August with copies of my book and will be on a stall with Arturo.
I have another book coming out with the same publisher called An Unlikely Fooligan. It’s an observation of Japan made during my trips to Japan in 2002 and 2003. I have another book, a novel called Malayan Swing being published by London Books in a few months. I wrote the book in 1993 and 1994, I’ve tightened it up but the story has remained the same.
It’s been a year of massive contrasts for me, what with having my book recently published and my other books soon to be published, and my father dying in March. My dad was a sensitive man, and like me he was a bit of a storyteller. He was short in height and came from a large family in an area where poverty was the norm and one had to fight for what one wanted, and then still in his teens being sent to war. I have learned that whilst my father didn’t ingrain in me the skills and ways to be crafty and compete, or have material possessions and money, he instilled far more, and that was his humility; this was done by showing understanding to people who are weak and different and his kindness towards animals.
When I was a child he would tell me tales of a character called Tough Alberto, who would wreak revenge on those who were bullies. Tough Alberto was six feet tall and always dressed in black, he would appear on the scene when an act of brutish and cowardly behaviour was taking place and the bully would be put to right with superior fighting skills.
My dad’s name was Albert, his favourite actor was Douglas Fairbanks and he loved films, especially westerns with Gary Cooper and Burt Lancaster in them – they were always dressed in black; I didn’t piece it together until only a few years ago.
So I take care of my mum now – it’s what Tough Alberto would have liked to do.

Book Launch and stuff

The book launch went well, the people that came along seemed to enjoy themselves. There was a good atmosphere and feel to the place, and I'd like to thank all those who came along. Reading extracts from the book was a bit nervy, but a good time was had by all.
The gig I played with Gary Bushell's Gonads last Friday in Mansfield was a good time, (no money though, so nothing has changed there) long time since I've played the punk drumming though.
Gary turned up at my launch, as did John King, my publisher Martin, along with other good people and my old friends. Thanks for your support, best Pete

The Book: God's Lonely Men

My book, God’s Lonely Men has come out - finally. What a palaver!
Anyway, it can be ordered from almost anywhere and bought off the internet, i.e., Tesco Books online and Amazon etc; in the next week Paul Kelly who does my website will be putting something up on it about buying the book direct from Paul and me. I’ve got to say I feel embarrassed, if it was fiction I wouldn’t feel that it was so personal, but the people that I’ve spoken to about it have told me not to worry. I’d like to thank the people involved who helped put it together and the people who have contacted me about the book who have been very supportive; just to let you know that I appreciate it.
Hope the people who buy the book like it; it’s not Harry Potter so there won’t be mid-night queues of young people outside book shops wanting to be first in getting their hands on it, but all the same I hope it means something to the people who read it. Best, Pete

'Jam' man

Jam Man.
I went to a pub recently that has a ‘jam’ night, half thinking that I might have a go on the drums, but when getting there I realised that it wasn’t as ‘open’ as I supposed an ‘open’ night to be. It is a particular culture that in a way has amused me, and others I am sure, because of there being a predominant style amongst many who attend such things to identify with Americana yet clutch onto things that they believe to be ‘very English.’ I have found them quick to compromise in their acceptance of the spoon fed diet of ‘rebel’ ‘rack n’ roll’ fantasy world and quick to condemn the voice from the margins that actually does ‘rebel’ and often holds a mirror up to the values that are commonly accepted.
The provincial mind has come of age; cover band cretins abound. The ‘X Factor’ and all the other karaoke type of television programmes have prepared a dumb culture where many have a wish to aspire to the mediocre. It’s safe, of course, it’s predictable and it’s bloody boring, and the pony tailed ‘rocker’ extols ‘the blues’ in pubs that are empty until ‘the jam’ starts. The event is often advertised on boards outside the pub doorway, an admission to the dreary depths that the barren establishment has fallen to. The ‘bar’ fills to it’s normal congregation of being quarter full, and in walks those who watch others with a resentment and competitive eye. The lined faces of the ‘hardened’ blues men show years of dissatisfaction, a guitar case propped between their knees, a cola drink on a table in front of them, ready to play and sing a wail on mourning and songs that depict a life of sour mash whiskey and wanton women.
Being a drummer in a punk group many years back to a time when the face of the ‘blues rocker’ would crease in repugnance at the word ‘punk,’ I remember very clearly how adventurous and accepting to new ideas the ‘blues rocker’ was. I found them to be more narrow minded and fearful of difference than the people that they declared their venom against, these being the people who were seen by them to be ‘pop’ fans and musicians in ‘commercial’ groups, and those liking ‘black’ dance and pop music from the reggae to funk and the other styles that were deemed ‘straight’ by people who I have found to be among the most conservative that I have come across. The ‘weekend rebel’ acting at being ‘radical’ wearing the name of the ‘band’ on the tee shirt that gets washed and ironed and put in the drawer, has in my experience always held that patronising, snobby and condescending view of others with their musical taste; and that snobbery is all to do with fear that is borne on ignorance, and it is a common condition in the provincial mind.
The new ‘punk’ fashion pushed aside and ridiculed middle class English people speaking in an American slur and took themselves too seriously as they bathed in a provincial comfort zone being idolised by a girlfriend and a bunch of incestuous types.
As I was standing in the pub that night I thought of a play that I wrote called Leachfield that deals with a lot of this stuff. I mean good luck to people who want to come out and have a play; but I have all too often found it a humourless affair with many of the participants having had an irony bypass when their personality was being engineered.
Resistant to ‘outside’ involvement the main ‘players’ congregate by the side of the stage spending an inordinate amount of time tuning up before stuttering into a lifeless rendition of an overplayed song, wearing expressions on their faces that I am sure they imagine would fit into a ‘bar’ somewhere in the ‘southern states’ where they play the Delta blues.
Nowadays there is a greater eclecticism thrown into the music mix, but the unimaginative personality continues to exist. I looked across at the chalkboard, half hoping to see names like Big Bum Griffis, Slow Hand Sam, Blind Balls Baker – or something like that. I turned and caught sight of my reflection in the mirror behind the bar, ‘what are you sneering at?’ I said to myself; music accommodates all types, but this type of thing isn’t for me. So I took a quick look at the overweight bloke who was looking at me from the mirror and I went somewhere else for a drink – with a rendering of a REM hit having just finished that reminded me of a country and western song, and as I walked across the car park I was sure that I heard strains of that bloody Mustang Sally behind me.

Standards

Saw a programme on the television the other night, a documentary about the conditions that women live under in Afghanistan; they have been let down by the so called ‘West,’ and as it is for most ordinary people had the piss taken out of them. It’s cruel, grim and all the other words we can use to try and explain the way we treat each other.And the F. A. Cup Final was today, a game where many of the real fans can’t go and see, they’ve been let down and they’re also having the piss taken out of them. I read the price of the programme is £10; the fans of the game should boycott the whole thing. If I was going to spend £10 on a programme I’d stop myself, and if I had that £10 to spare I would rather send it to the woman in Afghanistan who was featured in the documentary, if I could that is – call me naive, but it’s a disgrace.

God's Lonely Men: the book to be released August/September

Hello, with a bit of luck my first book will be published in August/September by Headhunter Books. Everything is signed and underway so hopefully it will go to plan. I wrote to Stuart Pearce, the ex England football manager and present mnager/coach of Manchester City the other week. The reason why I did this is because Stuart is a punk rock fan and came to see The Lurkers play, a punk group that I used to be the drummer with, back in the days when Fred Flintstone took Dino for a walk. I met Stuart at a television studio eight or so years back and was surprised how he was still enthusiastic about his music.
Well, my phone rang yesterday and when I answered it there was the voice of Stuart Pearce, he told me that he had read my letter explaining that I had written a book about The Lurkers, being an 'outsider' and of my view of things around punk. Stuart told me that he would read the book and wished me the best of luck; which I told him the same. Pleasant person; it's nice when you bump into people who have a regard for people and things when they have achieved a status that many in the same position wouldn't bother with if it didn't gain them anything. Still, there you have it, best to all out there in 'blogland.'