DEEP SCRATCH

Tag: RIP

  • HORNITHOLOGY FOR JOHN SINCLAIR

    HORNITHOLOGY FOR JOHN SINCLAIR

    Hornithology
    (For John Sinclair set to Ornithology by Charlie Parker)

    1

    i’m thinking of you standing on the corner
    joint in my hand, in my head plays a band
    i thought i’d write a head for you

    for all that you did it’s the least I can do
    for all what you wrote on the blues is true

    and so I’m asking what can we do?

    as long as you stay in my head
    i’ll be feeling well and read

    (we cut our own path and on we tread
    but don’t forget to go to bed)

    2

    we’ll always have your music and your writing
    to brighten our day, and show a new way
    i really miss your singing and laugh

    but inside my heart I have your autograph
    outer space bop and anti-gravity craft

    obli be bop blamster dam

    dizzy bird and monk and rap
    muddy sonny ra and fats

    (ginsberg burroughs kerouac
    hope your happy in you nap)

    3

    i wonder how it is up in the jukebox
    up there in the mix with mingus hendrix
    and all the rockin’ jams that you love

    all the swinging cats an’ the poets you dug
    dancing like a teenager to wolf and bud

    i hear you speaking in my dreams

    a yusef miles and coltrane breeze
    roll up a scroll an’ cheers our teas

    (a drop of honey lemon squeeze
    in the land of ooh blah dee)

    –Steve Fly
    Amsterdam, 2nd April 2025.
    For John Sinclair (R.I.P)

  • Lee Scratch Perry – Rest In Dub

    Every DJ should have a wide appreciation for music plus a special focus on a particular artist. For me, Lee “Scratch” Perry was the one-stop embodiment of the entire culture. Scratch was a network of interconnected nodes across the planet, across genre and history, he was there at many of the turning points, yet remained musically experimental and uniquely Scratch at the same time.

    Reggae music has lost some of its major innovators recently, U-Roy and Bunny Wailer both passed within two weeks of each other have ensured that the heaviest soundsystem in the universe, dubs out to infinity. Rest in dub. 

    Bob Marley’s mentor! Nuff said, and Scratch produced many of those lush, relaxing butter kissed dub reggae slices featuring Bob and the Wailers. Speak to any decent sound engineer and let them explain to you how Scratch innovated music production, on a shoestring, to create spacious acoustic worlds using reel to reel tape tricks and magic. I was first properly introduced to his early Black Ark works via the triple CD Box Set: Arkology, that featured vocal tracks followed by the dubs. His methodology and remixology of overdubbing tracks resulted in degradation and enhancements of certain frequencies and tones. Dealing with tape, Scratch was able to experiment with saturation and like Miles Davis, and The Beatles, Scratch cut-up and stitch-edited back together recordings, to both add a further uniqueness and originality to his ‘Sound’ plus, to chop and change time, past-present-future all on one reel.

    During the 1990’s in the UK there was a resurgence and recycling of dub reggae into new forms, both upbeat Jungle music and downbeat trip hop/ambient electronica, was noticeably pulling on influences such as Lee Scratch Perry. Arguably, the early Mo-Wax sound was heavily drenched in a Scratch approach to filtered drums, deep sub bass and tripy echo-chamber ‘dub outs’. Many of the existing, original Dub Sound Systems crossed over and experimented in different genres leading up the millennium. Perhaps best captured in the collaborations between Scratch and Adrian Sherwood, plus the remix spin offs from these projects. Culturally, and from a musical perspective, the impact Scratch has had, together with all the other Sound Systems, artists, producers and recording engineers with roots in Jamaica and the Caribbean, in the UK is exemplary.

    Testament to underground movements and artists doing art for the love and community of it, the thrill of musical creation, experimentation and playback. Showing how to peacefully celebrate art, build community and stay healthy and happy, updated to what’s going on via the general heart. A toast to the original toasters, to Scratch and to those who selflessly shared music, art and culture, in service to some other ubiquitous force. Stronger than commerce, the force to keep experimenting, like a scientist, moving forwards, march, chant, dance and sing tales of conquering adversity. The mighty sound engineer god, my kind of god, if I were to want to worship such an entity.

    The Mystique of Scratch, adds another dimension to his personae, and so his music. A self confessed self-mythologizing multi-dimensional being, The Upsetter of the Upsetters. In the tradition of Sun Ra, Scratch included the scriptures and religious mythology into his music and into himself, self-mythologizing through sonics. Another defining attribute of great Reggae artists, the devotion – religious devotion – to the music, as the music is part of the culture, not just some entertainment on the side…central to the whole thing, the oneness of experiencing all the senses at once. 

    For me, in the late 1990’s, listening to Lee Scratch Perry while high, I became aware of some very attractive high-frequency phase shifting (like what happens when you play two copies of the same vinyl record and very slightly slow one of them down, or up) a new sonic world emerged for me, and from there when I heard the music from the likes of Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane and Sun Ra, I thought to myself, “wow, these cats are up and out there, playing in this other world”, it was kind of like a new dimension in sound. Scratch productions sent me to a similar place “outta’ space’ indeed, and that’s not to discuss what he was actually saying and singing. Scratch was a consistent labyrinthine puzzle maker, the Inception-Setter, who often spoke in tongues breaking down the linguistic barriers imposed by imperial forces. 

    Scratch was a poet too, a spontaneous preacher of Dub Science Mysticism, notably, distinguished by his ability to perform and present proof of concepts which enter through the ear and skin, to explore the rest of the human sensory solar system. As with Bob Marley, if his music is a church and/or religion, I am of it. Same with John Coltrane. I maybe model agnostic, a secular humanist but I can explore and appreciate and even temporarily “believe in” religious thinking via music. Scratch to me resembles a hermetic tone-scientist, and I can get on board and take the ride without worry, it’s a love dub trip.

    Listen to his new album for evidence of his broad spectrum of collaborations:
    Perry’s Guide To The Universe

    Rest In Dub

    –Steve Fly
    Amsterdam

  • Hi Kev

    Hi Kev,

    I thought you might enjoy an update as your all discombobulated and stuff, no longer here with us in this mortal rugby-scrum-of-a-form. I usually fucking hate these kind of notes to the deceased, you know the kind of thing: ‘hey, hey, hey bro…’ as if you can hear me, or as if you can read these lame words, however, with you mate, i thought it might make your spirit fizz, froth, and chuckle a little. And, it makes me feel less like i’m going so stour-crazy in your absence, and a bit more like your on a very very long holiday in some shit hole of a resort, with no wifi.

    Gordon Bennet, you really shuffled off the stage at a strategic point eh? sneaky bastid! and you set the 2016 death pool in motion that savaged many of your favourite artists like Prince, George Michael, Bowie, and Leonard Cohen. You woulda’ bin well gutted mate. Even Carrie Fisher died, maybe she’s already on the eternal dancefloor spinning on that galactic pole!

    Well, i suppose you’d want the low down on what’s going in town, and with your mates. A who’s who of who, and who’s doing who. Sorry, not tellin’…it’s just all as well as can be expected bro’, it’s not like anybody went and died or nothing like that, but indeed, some might be seen as the living dead on the dancefloor compared to yowa’ kevbot (had to drop the bot in here) Did i mention what a great time i had at your wake? man, after a few drinks i half expected you to walk in the door, pulling a Jesus move on us, but no. Seems you’re really dead, whatever that means.

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  • Kevin ‘Memory’ Lane

    Kevin “memory” Lane.

    “Hero’s get remembered, legends never die”–Evil Kenevil

    Ouch, sometimes people are snatched away truly before their time, and Kev was snatched away from us, all who knew him, and from those who did not have the pleasure of meeting him, or reading him, too soon. Way too fucking soon!

    Thankfully, he passed in his sleep, and i suspect he was fully up for it, fully ready to ride that pale horse into eternity with a wide grin. “come fucking on reaper, what you got, ay?” And so it goes. A hero beyond measure, both personally and to all of my friends from my home town, Stourbridge, and surrounding areas, Lye, Brierley Hill, Hagley, and the greater Black Country.

    I often referred to Kev as the true voice of the Black Country, a unique individual with a rare and raw talent for writing, coupled with his full-on, up front and principled social presence. A true legend who will be terribly missed by those who new him, and by those who did not. Kevin held the kind of fierce intellect and wit and worldly experience our society and its so called leaders lack.

    On more than one occasion i had encouraged him to publish his writings, and not just limit his writing ability and insights to facebook. I am sure that some of you reading this know exactly what i mean, Kevin Lane consistently schooled us with his status updates, honest, raw, funny, smart. Kev was a psychedelic wizard and at the same time a top boy, a lad, one of the boys. He somehow combined a number of personalities together, and broke down stereotypes, followed his own path and was his own man. He had his own dance, his own philosophy of life, his own music tastes, his own humour, his unique way of putting it. Kev seemed to me to be a truly free man, always up for trying something new, consistantly making you think, and always, without fail making you, and anybody in earshot, laugh out loud.

    Everybody must find their own way to grieve, and for me personally i must write, and write, because one fact i have learn’t, and continue learning from his tragic early exit from the stage, is that eight or ten words on facebook don’t do him justice, for me, Kev deserves a book, a statue and street named in his honor. Although i fully understand that many people now use the dating website to express a wise variety of emotions and thoughts, personal and otherwise, for me, it’s not the place to begin to pay tribute to such a wide-reaching honey-monster of a legend like Kevin Lane. This motherfucker deserves a few thousand words just for starters. So, strap yourself in. Go make a cup of tea and roll a spliff. The present author is about to take you on a journey down Kevin Lane. A lord, and a real shit kicking black country bard. The very least i can do is spend a few days pulling together just a few memories.

    So, about the dance…Kev was well known for his unique dance moves, he could be spotted a mile off, doing the Lanebot, or whatever name you wish to put on it, which involved a lot of shoulder movement, little footwork and a lot of smiling. It was a mechanical, almost robotic looking movement, and it was certainly unique to Kev, to the point where other people would try to immitate his moves, with little success but equal enjoyment. Every music event, and every party in Stourbridge will sorely miss Kevin, he was literally the center of the dance, a mascot and life blood of any party. One time around 1999, at a local rave called “Lifted” i remeber Kevin going full tilt on the dance floor, and on the pole. At one point, in a most hilarious manner actually licking the pole, and dancing around it like a cross between a Native American indian worshipping his totem, and a Black Country porn star out on the piss.

    Kev loved his music, and supported independent and local acts, most recently championing the Sleaford Mods before anybody else i knew, and always had his ear to the underground sound. A healthy mixture of punk, indie rock, soul, reggae, funk, classic breakbeats and spoken word, Kev would always be up for having a good time at any party, if there were music to groove on, he would be grooving away with all three shoulders. Kev loved good film and TV too, besdes his fantastic collection of pornography (to be donated to Dudley libraries) he sticks in my mind as the guy who turned me onto loads of cult films and future classics, again, before anybody else. Clerks, South Park, Adult Swim, The Black Mirror, Saxondale, were all introduced to me by Kev. Kevin was a taste maker, and had a sharp eye for cultural memes and movements. I would often visit him just to get the low down on what was happening, since i had been away from the UK for large chunks of time, and he always had another movie, fresh album or book to suggest, never disappinting with his selections.

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